What Do We Do With A Drunken Pilot?
Twenty eight drinks later, Canderous gave up on his attempt to get sloshed, but not before he beat Chuundar's record of eighteen. He found Pol enmeshed in talks with the women folk and her Jedi. Not wanting to intrude on women's business, he signaled to her from afar and left the party. Pol timed her exit from the conversation and vanished into the crowd.
Bastila parted from the women's group. Mission and Juhani didn't translate as well as Pol did and she had grown tired of being fussed over. Just fabulous I might have a face like a pie, but the Wookiees think I am adorable. Oh no! Maybe I smell too! Carth was still standing and speaking by the time he found Bastila. She shrank a little at his approach, as much time as she had for the Republic pilot, drunken men generally got her dander up.
"Hi Bastila, how's the Wookiees' favorite teeny tiny china doll?" Carth staggered a little. He had proven himself to be a manly enough human for the male Wookiees by drinking almost as much as they did. This meant Jolee was permitted to translate some of the cheekier dialogue.
"Hello Carth, you are drunk," she accused, then added peevishly, "And I am not 'teeny tiny'."
"Yeah gorgeous hic I know I'm drunk, but you are little, not in a bad way or anything; you're pleasingly petite. Aw, don't look like that; good things come in small packages." He slurred a little and tipped his glass in a toast.
"You are going to spill your drink, Onasi. And if you persist in calling me gorgeous, I will show you what really comes in small packages." Bastila threatened a little and leaned away from the unsteady drinker. At least he has his shirt on.
"It's just as well, beautiful; I've already had way too much." He put his cup down on the walkway.
Oh dear… patience, Padawan Shan. "Carth, is there something you wanted?"
"Yeah, I uh, wanted to apologize for overreacting. You girls aren't bad, look at what you did here. This is a good thing!" He swept his arm wide to encompass the vista, almost clotheslining Bastila. She ducked neatly out of the path of the drunken limb.
"Well, thank you for noticing. Apology accepted, and I am sorry for not telling you."
"Sheesh, that's ok hic. Hey Bastie, how 'bout a dance?" Carth smiled dopily. His eyes, dilated from the darkness and the booze, looked soft, but blacker than onyx. He held out his arms and Bastila side-stepped them. "Well, I guess that's a no." He chortled. "Ya know gorgeous, I'm actually not that bad a dancer."
"Carth, when you speak can you actually hear the words that come out of your mouth, or is there just an all Bith band playing a drunken waltz?" Bastila patronized.
"The latter," Carth admitted, with a grin.
"If I dance with you, will you shut up?"
Carth held his right hand to his breast and tried to look sober. "You have my word as a soldier of the Republic."
"Well, since I can't hear the drunken music in your head, I suppose you will have to lead then." Against her best judgment, Bastila accepted the dance and waltzed with the drunken pilot.
Swoop Garage / Cargo Hold
Sprawled across two mattresses on the garage floor, Canderous opened one eye lazily, and spoke aloud. "If you thought you could sneak your ass in here and take my knife from me while I'm inebriated, you were wrong. Put the boots down, Pol. I see you."
"But I GOT the knife!" Pol stamped a foot childishly and the stealth field failed, revealing her petulance.
"The idea is that you disarm me while I am wearing the knife, like a professional. Not that you go through my things like some paltry thief. Hell, even Republic could manage that." He sat up. "And put the knife back, I won't have weapons in our bed."
"I thought you would have been all for that. Scared of what I might do?" Pol teased, replacing the knife.
"No. Having a weapon in or under your bed is dumb. It's like saying to any would-be attacker, 'Here kill me with this!'"
"So, what if they bring their own weapon to come spike ya?" Pol asked.
"Turn it back on him as soon as you get the chance. This lesson is over." He answered succinctly.
"Ok. So how drunk are you?" Pol asked.
"Barely drunk at all, and its fading fast," Canderous complained. "How's your injury?"
"Fine now, and almost completely pain free…Wanna fool around?" Pol flopped to the bed beside Canderous.
"The Ebon Hawk's swoop garage is not the most romantic place for this." He said, looking down at Pol. "You wanna go fight in the cargo hold instead?" He asked.
"You want to fight? You don't want to… uh…" Pol asked looking worried. Is it me or does he know?
"Of course I want to, but I would like it to be more memorable… And not in the hasty cargo hold kind of way either,"
It will be memorable for me. "Ok, fine. Let's fight." Pol said. She jumped up, hauled her love to his feet, and they marched down to the cargo hold.
Canderous bragged outrageously as they walked. "How about we make this more interesting, since we both know who will win…"
"A wager?" Pol asked.
"Mmm hmm. Speaking of which, you owe some Wookiees 100 credits. Since you're already out of pocket, I will be fair on you. We won't spar for credits."
"Ok Chief, name your terms." Pol said as she moved a stack of crates to the extremities of the room.
"When I win, I get one hour of your time, in which you have to do everything I ask of you." Canderous smiled a dark challenge. Indicating a heavy crate he said, "Leave that to me."
"When you win? Pfft! I defeated Mandalore!" Pol trilled, "Why do you only want one hour?"
"I did say 'everything I ask' Pol, so if I were you, I would be grateful it is only one hour, and you have yet to defeat me, so drop the attitude."
"Ok. If I win, you devote one hour to meeting my every whim, effective the second the fight is over." Pol countered.
"And what might they be?" Oh, this sounds good.
"Not telling. Lose and you'll find out." You're going to fix my swoop bike!
"Have it your way, but I am not throwing the fight just to find out. So we have an accord." Canderous spat into the palm of his hand. Pol copied the motion and they shook.
Pol waited for Canderous to make the first move. He swung out at her and she dodged the punch, landing one of her own on his forearm. Wow that was a clumsy shot she chided herself. Canderous caught her arm as she tried to pull away and twisted it cruelly. Pol threw up her leg to kick her way free of the hold, brought it crashing down on his shoulder, and regretted it immediately. Ugh! What was I thinking? He unbalanced her easily, and she hit the cargo hold floor with a thud. She lay there a second, waiting. Canderous stood over her, a frown on his face.
"What's wrong with you today? You sure you're up to this?" He taunted. "Yeah? Well then get up. You're not done yet, Champ. Best of three," Canderous stretched out an arm lazily and grabbed Pol's belt buckle. With a smooth jerk, he pulled her to her feet. They faced off again. Canderous grinned in spite of himself. That's one to me.
Pol swung her leg out low, trying to knock the feet from under him. Canderous jumped over her leg, grabbed her under the arms, and flipped her over his back. Pol got personal with a Plasteel container. When she landed, she looked about and realized she was out of bounds. I have to find his weakness.
"That's two to me rag doll." Canderous laughed. Pol made as if to charge him, Canderous dodged the feint and took a king hit to the side of his skull. He swung to return the hit, but overreached himself when Pol ducked away. He took a chance and it paid off: he managed to catch Pol's belt again, pulling her closer. Pol leaned back as far as she could, digging her heels into the corrugations of the cargo hold's flooring to buy some time. With swift fingers, she released the clasp on her belt buckle and the belt came away in Canderous's hands and she spun out of range. With a Force leap and a swift kick to the chest, she knocked him to the ground. Yay me!
"And one to me!" smiled Pol. They took their places again.
"You're getting better."
"I kinda cheated." Pol admitted as she circled Canderous.
"That's not nice, Pol. If you can cheat, I can cheat too."
"Pfft, whatever. I'm still gonna beat your ass!" Pol boasted, shadowboxing like a fool.
"Oh, really?" Canderous lowered his fists; grabbed the waist band of Pol's trousers, and dropped her pants. Pol froze. Eeeep. Canderous grabbed her legs and threw her over his shoulder and into a stack of empty crates. Pol landed awkwardly with her trousers around her ankles.
"Nice panties. How come you never wear those to bed?"
"They're new, blame Mission." Crazy teen Twi'lek taste…I look like a Nal Hutta joy girl. Pol stood up and redressed herself coyly while Canderous stared.
Oh, bless you, Blue. "My hour starts now. Come sit by me." Canderous corrected a crate and took a seat. Pol sat beside him obediently. "There are some things I've been dying to know, and so for the next hour, you have to answer my questions, truthfully."
"Ok. Ask them."
"First of all, rub my back. That blow to the shoulder caned like hell." Pol stood up again, Canderous removed his shirt and folded it on the crate she had vacated. Pol massaged his aching shoulders tenderly.
"Were you 'involved' with Malak?" He asked.
"No, I wasn't involved with Malak, not that way." Pol continued her work weaving the slightest bit of Force into her touch, so that she could heal him without suspicion. Pol eyed the shirt. That he had folded it so precisely came as no surprise, given the discipline of the military code he had been raised with.
"Pol, have you been involved with anyone?" He asked.
Pants down? Damn you Canderous, I really didn't see that coming. "Next question!" Pol laughed and blushed. "It's a sad case of too young, then too Jedi, then too Sith, in that order. And then I fell for this rogue Mandalorian with a latent paladin complex…" Pol teased.
"Paladin what… Are you drunk? Pol, I'm a sleazy old dirt bag with dishonorable intentions. What did you think you were going to do with me if you won our wager?"
"I was going to get you to fix the accelerator cable on my swoop bike so I can race again. I hear the circuit on Tatooine is to die for." Pol admitted.
"Probably in more ways than one, is that all you had in mind, Champ?"
"No, I was going to make you polish my boots with your shirt; I like the idea of you half naked at my feet." Pol kneaded Canderous's neck brusquely, and he sighed shamelessly, enjoying her ministrations.
"Hmm, that would have been… tolerable. So Pol are you…?"
"Am I what?"
"Have you ever…"
"Ha! You're asking me THAT? Oh, that's so funny, and you're so sweet. Ha-ha." Pol giggled nervously and reddened. Thank the Force he can't see my face. "Why did you ask me that?"
"Because like I said, I am a sleazy old dirt bag with dishonorable intentions, and I like to know these things."
"Well, what do you think, Chief? Am I, or aren't I?" Pol taunted.
"I'd say you are." Canderous craned his neck, trying to see Pol's reaction. Pol caught him at it, and grabbed his chin and the back of his head; she righted it roughly, cracking his neck and spoiling his view. "Ahh, that's better. Pol, you ever consider a career as a chiropractor? This is a real gift you have."
"No, I haven't considered a career in chiropractics. What makes you think I am a…?" Pol stressed over her lack of experience.
"Your naivety," And the fact that you can't even say it without blushing.
"I'm not naïve." Pol continued the massage, getting a little rough in her agitation.
Canderous groaned appreciatively. "You're naive if you think I'm sweet. Ahh… that's the spot, right there, girl your hands are gold!"
"Well, Sir The-Ebon-Hawk-isn't-romantic-enough-for-this-paladin-knight-Ordo, if you must know, I have not been 'deflowered'" Pol admitted.
"I knew it." Damn! Damn! Damn!
"Pfft. I was too busy conquering to fool around. It's not an easy life for a woman, you know! I had to wear a mask and those god-awful robes and platform boots to get the respect I deserved. And that's not to mention all the killing. You try being five foot three and having a face like a pissed off fairy for a day and see how much fear and respect you instill, tough guy!"
Canderous grinned. "Poor Pol…" Hey, she does look like a pissed off fairy…
Pol stopped massaging. She stood behind him with her hands on her hips. Her volume increased as she made her complaint. "Yeah, poor Pol is right! I finally drop the hokey Jedi religion and all the Sith conquering business, and in my noble fight to repair the galaxy do I finally get some? Noooo! But you can bet if I was a male, I would be getting some action! Instead of the hero treatment I so rightly deserve, I get lumped with the one Mando'ad in creation who's too bloody well-mannered for a quick roll in the cargo hold!"
Before Pol could finish her angry diatribe, Canderous roared. "Oh, that is IT!" He twisted and seized Pol by her hips. When she tried to resist, he overcame her, pulling her roughly into his lap. "You just have no idea who you're fooling with, do you?" He reprimanded her huffily.
Pol laughed in his face. "No, and I don't care." She answered, kissing him before he could hazard a response. Pol's happy internal dialogue sang words like: Hooray! And, At last!
Unfortunately for Pol, Canderous was the victim of his own internal dialogue as they kissed.
Oh Pol…. Few more couldn't hurt…She's so fine… Maybe the cargo hold isn't so bad…Damnit Ordo, stop this now! …But she's so…Breathtaking … Ordo show some restraint! Bah She's a warrior. She defeated Mandalore. I can't go through with it. You're too good for this, Pol. Not here, not this way.
Canderous gently eased her away with a few well placed kisses. "No Pol, I can't. You will always be Revan to me. You are divine, and you should be treated with respect," he said duskily when they came up for air.
Her eyes were a mix of relief, pleasure, disappointment and confusion as they searched his for answers. "After all that 'I'll show you what a dirt bag I am' bravado, you're putting me up on a pedestal?"
"For now," Canderous explained. And damn you girl, for teaching me a moral code worthy of my notice. "It'll make taking you down more enjoyable for us both later." Canderous tried to sleaze the last line out; giving it his best measure of impropriety, but Pol wasn't buying it. She stated her opinion wordlessly, kissing him on the tip of his nose. She smiled; her eyes said a gorgeous 'thank you', and she left the room.
To Tatooine
Carth awoke with a blazing headache, and was greeted by Jolee Bindo. "What happened?" He asked. The pilot felt like he had been hit by a truck load of bantha poodoo.
Jolee chuckled. "We had to carry you back to the Hawk, and you sang the entire way! It was very entertaining, but now it is time for you to fly. You up to it, kid?"
"Ugh… I suppose." Carth dressed and headed to the cockpit.
Bastila was there with caffa. Well this is a pleasant surprise. She handed him the non-spill cup and left without a word. Oh well, guess I'm not that good a dancer. The pilot ground out the drilling hangover with willpower and discipline, then set a course for Tatooine. Let's see how well I fly through trees with a hangover. Ugh, crazy Wookiee drink.
He was joined by Pol and Canderous once they made the leap to hyperspace. Pol nudged Carth meaningfully. "You know it's fairly safe to say you can stop watching Bastie all the time now, our little secret is out." A wicked grin dominated her mouth. There was a hint of humor in the Mandalorian's eyes too.
"Huh? I wasn't watching her. I don't watch her." Carth sipped his caffa.
The Mandalorian spoke up. "Sure Carth, you only watch the space next to her a…" Pol clamped a hand over Canderous's mouth just in time.
"Ya know if you want her to notice you more, you could act on that, rather than just drunken dancing and ogling her from a distance." She suggested sweetly.
Carth gaped at the accusations, as well as Pol's advice. "I do not ogle her!"
Canderous escaped Pol's hand for a second. "Yes you do! Champ you saw - it wasn't even a distance! He was looking right at her t…" Pol's hand regained purchase and ceased Canderous's coarse tirade.
"Pol, you're a first-class idiot, and you, Canderous, ha, I'm not even going to say what I think there ha-ha." Carth dismissed them with a shake of his aching head.
Pol huffed in annoyance, and left the cockpit. What a nerf-herder. Who is he trying to kid?
When Pol was gone, Canderous whispered to Carth. "Making them mad usually works." He strolled off whistling. Carth shook his head again and tried to recall details of the celebrations on Kashyyyk. Nothing improper was forthcoming. We just danced, it's not like I tried to kiss her or anything…did I? Nah…umm…
Tatooine
Tatooine is an arid desert, bereft of water. Its native inhabitants are the Tuskan raiders, commonly called the Sand People and the Jawas, a small race of sentients. It had been colonized, mined, and then deserted again hundreds of times over. Businesses mining its ore rose and fell due to the substandard quality of the mineral. Czerka was one of the few corporations that had remained, and according to Lena, Griff had been working for them last.
Carth set them down in the Anchorhead spaceport, Pol and her crew left the Hawk. They split up; Jolee took the Jedi to the Cantina to ask about tourist attractions, Star Maps, and other points of interest. Carth and Zaalbar handled the docking procedure, registering the Hawk's mooring. Pol took Mission and Canderous to the Czerka office to track down Griff.
When Carth returned to the ship, he was met by a delivery man. "Hey buddy, I don't think that's ours." He said pointing to a crate labeled 'livestock'.
"This the Ebon Hawk?" The store man asked as he wheeled the crate towards the loading ramp.
"Yeah," Carth confirmed.
"Well then, this is your problem now." The delivery man unloaded the box in the cargo hold amid protests from Zaalbar and Carth.
"Wait, what's my problem?"
"Sign here, sir." The delivery man gave the letter of dispatch to Carth. "I am just following orders."
"No way. Whatever that is, you had best send it back because it is not ours. We didn't order anything." Carth insisted.
"It's paid for, sir. And as you can see here on the notice, my instructions are perfectly clear, though we were expecting you two weeks ago."
Carth examined the paperwork incredulously, "Two gizka?"
"Yes, sir," said the delivery man jadedly, "Though it has been two weeks, so there will probably be more than that by now."
(This is bad.) Zaalbar groaned.
"Yeah Z, but I guess we don't have a choice." Carth signed the paperwork and the delivery man left.
(Don't open the box Carth). Zaalbar warned.
"What's that Zaalbar?" Carth asked as he noisily pried opened the crate with a crowbar. Sixteen gizka bounded out. Three of the gigantic toad like creatures were dead at the bottom of the box. "Uh oh," Carth looked at the gizka guiltily as they bounded about the Ebon Hawk.
Zaalbar knocked Carth in the back of the skull lightly with his paw, (You idiot.)
Cantina
Bastila lead the dusty trio into Anchorhead's cantina. After several fruitless conversations with drunken Czerka employees that resulted in the liberal application of Force slaps, Jolee took over the role of lead investigator. He spotted a hunter, and settled in for a quiet ale and a conversation.
"Your best bet is the Tuskan raiders; they know more of this land than I. In my travels I have not discovered anything such as that which you seek." Komad Fortuna drank the ale Jolee had bought him. "They are dissatisfied with the colonization, though, and attack on sight."
"Perhaps if someone talked to them?" Juhani asked. Bastila smiled approvingly at the Cathar.
"A quandary, they do not speak basic and I have met no sentient as could speak their language. If I had the money, I would purchase a droid, for I would like very much to ask them of the Krayt dragons." The gold Twi'lek sighed.
"There are droids that can interpret Basic to the Sand People?" Jolee asked.
"Yuka Laka has one in his store, but he asks a fortune for it." Komad explained.
As they left the cantina, the Jedi discussed how to buy the droid. "Young Mission drives a hard bargain, we should ask her to come with us." Juhani suggested.
Jolee agreed. "And if it comes to it, we could ask her for a loan, since she now has all my credits, too, the scallywag!"
"She is with Pol seeking news of her brother; it would be kinder to let her have this time." Bastila stated. "As it so happens, I drive a pretty hard bargain myself." She sniffed imperiously.
"This droid, even at a reduced price, could cost us all of our credits," Juhani said. Truly, they didn't have much to spare.
"That is why once we are done with it, we sell it back." Bastila explained shrewdly.
Jolee grinned. "Off we go, then!"