Chapter 9.

By Carycomic

NAR SHADDA

(10 B.B.Y.)

The costumed crusader looked at his would-be captor. A human female with long black hair; blue eyes just a shade lighter than her hooded cloak and mid-skirt; brown spacer boots; and a red tunic off-set by some kind of gold emblem resembling a Basic capital "w." But, what really captured his attention, at that moment, was the bayonet-tipped sporting blaster she had aimed straight at his head!

"Forgive me if I sound like an echo," said the Hawk-Batman. "But, did you say 'Hapes Consortium,' Miss…?"

"Diana Themiscyra," she replied. "Special Agent Themiscyra, Royal Hapan Constabulary to you."

"And you're placing me under arrest?"

Agent Themiscyra nodded.

"In that case," her alleged prisoner continued. "… you might find that a bit difficult. After all, you're on a world controlled by the Hutts. In a sector of the Outer Rim where even the Empire has trouble enforcing its authority!"

"Which should make my interrogation of you all the easier," she countered. "And thereby allow me to accomplish my mission all the sooner."

The Hawk-Batman merely smiled.

"What's so funny?" growled Agent Themiscyra.

"Well, if I had a morbid sense of humor, I'd say 'The mini-bowcaster slowly being pointed at the back of your head.' "

The Hapan policewoman scowled at him. "Do I look like I was born yesterday?"

"You're certainly acting like it," replied another female voice.

Agent Themiscyra slowly looked over her right shoulder. Sure enough, the Huntress was there. Her mini-bowcaster aimed right at the spot verbally indicated thirty seconds earlier.

"I thought I made it clear when you hired me," continued the Huntress, "…that I would handle everything!"

"I got worried," replied Agent Themiscyra. "You missed your last two progress reports! So I activated a homing device I planted on the inner hem of your cape."

"What part of 'barring unforeseen circumstances' did you not understand?"

"That depends. Is _he_ one of those circum-?"

The Hapan policewoman was cut off by the impossible sight she now saw before her. Namely, the complete absence of the Hawk-Batman and Arnwes Kar!

"How in the name of…?"

"Never mind them," snapped the Huntress. "I've got the one we really want to question!"

The Huntress lowered her right arm (mini-bowcaster and all) while simultaneously raising her left arm. The clenched hand of that arm holding the cage currently holding the shrunken Rek'oj prisoner.

"Did you rent a two-seat speeder at the spaceport? demanded the Huntress.

Agent Themiscyra nodded, adding that the younger woman should follow her. It was only after they were truly out of his sight that the Hawk-Batman faded back into view. With his right arm immobilizing Arnwes Kar's upper torso. While the latter's mouth was gagged by the former's left hand!

The former waited a couple moments to be sure the two women were gone. Then he stood up, partially loosening the vise-like grip of his right arm, while using the index finger tip of his left hand to establish a comm-link with Arfive back in the Tappratine.

"Red? It's me."

The electronic scolding that ensued was brief but intense.

"Sorry," replied the costumed crusader. "Been busy. I need you to run a full background check on a Bith physician named Redu C'to. Medical school attended; next-of-kin; the works! Also, cross-check all recent cargo runs between Peridon's Folly and Nar Shadda against all recent passenger flights from Xa Fel and/or Kuat to Nar Shadda. See if they have any shipping company names in common."

The transceiver-equipped "batarang" he had discretely left behind earlier just before setting out to Arnwes Kar's apartment had provided him a wealth of information while en route back to the clinic. Yet it had also raised some highly interesting new questions. Foremost among them: what technology had been developed that allowed a KDY 21 blaster variant to shrink people? Why was that of such concern to a special agent from the xenophobic matriarchy of the Hapes Consortium? And what, if anything, did those two matters have to do with midi-chlorian-laced water from an Ambrian lake?

Nor was he the only one mentally asking himself questions. On an adjacent rooftop, Shatterfist (currently also known as "Jondo Grahrk") looked at his quarry through a pair of infra-red macrobinoculars. Finally, however, he lowered them in order to turn and look at his newest traveling companion, Harlek Wynn of Dathomir.

"Follow the women. Ascertain whether they're his partners or just allies of convenience. Meanwhile, I'll take care of this Hawk-Batman, myself."

The scantily-clad Dathomirian wench smiled and nodded. "Anything you say, Mr. J!"

Back in the devastated waiting room of the "free clinic," the Hawk-Batman returned his attention to Arnwes Kar.

"Now, it's your turn. If you want to get off Nar Shadda alive, you better give me some more information. Where does Blobbo the Toydarian live?"

"W-W-Why do you want to know?" the spice-addicted Bimm nervously stuttered.

The Hawk-Batman glared at him.

"Xa Fels are being transported to this clinic for some kind of medical 'treatment', involving lake water from the planet Ambria. No doubt, injected hypodermically. But, the lakes of Ambria are tainted by the Darkside of the Force. Consequently, the midi-chlorians in that water induce a gigantizing mutation almost immediately upon injection! And, considering how dangerous Ambrian wildlife is reputed to be, I can only surmise that Hapan blasters- -like this one that I confiscated from Gnort Gneesmacher- -are being provided to the mercenaries, smuggling the water, for their own protection. With the gunrunners, themselves, being paid off in contraband glitterstim! The only question still remaining is… who can handle that much trafficking? And, right now, the only one who can answer that is your ex-partner, Blobbo. Because we both know he doesn't have the brains to run a smuggling operation this massively well-organized! So, for the last time; where-does-he-live?!"

Arnwes Kar let his shoulders droop as he stared at the floor in defeat.

"He lives. . ."

". . .far longer than either of you will."

They both looked up in the direction of the clinic's main entrance and subsequently beheld… Shatterfist in all his shirtless glory.

NAR SHADDA SPACEPORT

(DOCKING BAY WMM-1881)

One of the oldest jokes on the Smugglers' Moon concerned the question of how one could tell the difference between sunrise and sunset with such a smoggy atmosphere. And the half-serious answer was always the same.

"If the smog has dark purple streaks, the sun is down. If it has bright purple streaks, the sun is up!"

And it was the latter hue that both women saw as they disembarked from the rented landspeeder.

"Don't ask me to apologize for my actions, because I don't regret them," snapped the Hapan special agent. "In fact, it's you who should apologize to me! Keeping an unloaded carbine aboard your ship. Most unprofessional!"

"That's the way it was given to me," snapped the Huntress right back. "It's a Siang lance from Kilia IV!"

"From where?"

"Kilia IV. It's a planet near the Kathol Rift that's the site of a lost colony from the Draggulch Period! Or, at least, that's what my old wilderness survival coach told me. Scouts for my people came across it just after the end of the Clone Wars. According to their year-long study of the place, the descendants of the original settlers have reverted to a medieval level of existence. With the Force being referred to as plain old 'magic' governed by an indigenous goddess called 'Mystryl'. And with museum pieces like this one locally called 'Siang lances' being seen as elite weapons. Reserved for use only by elite Force-sensitive warriors, locally known as 'Rangers'!"

Diana Themiscyra was flabbergasted by this revelation.

"Does the Empire know this planet exists?"

The Huntress shook her head. "My people decided to keep it a secret. So that we could use it to give our Shadow Guards-in-training their final exams in wilderness survival."

It was at this point that the two women suddenly remembered their shrunken captive. Rek'oj the Ayrou once again laughing… and with his laughter once again sounding like a songbird slowly being strangled to death!

"What's so funny, short stuff?" demanded the Huntress, glaring at him through the bars of the rodent cage.

"Heeheeheeheehee! The Empire might not know about this lost colony now. But, they will when I get back and tell Lord Vader!"

"And just how do you intend to do that from in there? At your present size, no less?"

"Because I'm gonna help him!" a third, decidedly female, voice suddenly proclaimed.

The Huntress spun about, her mini-bowcaster already half-way up and taking aim! But, fast as she reacted, the intruder, Harlek Wynn, of course, was even faster. Knocking the weapon from out of the former's right hand, with a large wooden mallet, in an almost balletic counter-clockwise arc. Then, halting that arc, only to reverse it… and thereby turn the mallet into a battering ram. One that knocked the wind right out of the Huntress even as it knocked her flat on her rump!

And all in less time than it takes to tell.

"You want some of this, too, Blackie-locks?" the Dathomirian demanded. "Or are you gonna be as smart as you look and let me have the little fella without any further mayhem?"

Diana immediately assumed a defensive stance, turning the Siang lance upside-down like a Hapan short sword.

"Bring it on, wench!"

tbc