Canderous:
"Whoa. Look at this kid. He's a kath hound chew toy!" Mission exclaimed. The girl circled the corpse, jabbing it where she saw appropriate.
"So that old bastard was telling the truth." I bit down on my cigarra.
"He's still an old bastard," Mission grunted.
The Wookiee growled at her.
"What?" she demanded. "He is."
For as old as he was, Ahlan Matale wasn't very bright. The only person remotely interested in helping him, he insulted. Then to make matters worse, he tried to bribe her a meager sliver of what the child could have made on a poor day of scamming folks on Taris.
Mission handled it better than I wished. She was satisfied with a handful of crude remarks before she stormed out of the Matale Estate, Wookiee in tow. I had snorted and tossed my lit cigarra butt on the floor as I followed them.
Rian had known something when she decided on sending the ragamuffin duo out on this mission. The girl didn't put up with any guff, which was all that Ahlan Matale had been capable of producing. And if she ever got out of line, the Wookiee was there to calm her.
It made for a boring afternoon. It could have been worse. Sure, the ancient ruins that Rian was headed to sounded challenging, but she was stuck with that Jedi bitch.
After that petty squabble in the Ebon Hawk, Rian had drunk herself into a frenzy and passed out. Mission had been wise enough to have us slip out before Rian woke. I was glad to not be present for that headache.
Mission was a headache all to herself. She seemed to still hold a grudge for me nearly killing her. If there was ever a next time, I made a note to make sure that I follow through.
Mission snapped the dead boy's datapad shut and slipped it into a sack that she tossed at the Wookiee.
"We should let the Sandrals know that Cassus won't be coming home for dinner anytime soon," Mission said.
The Wookiee rumbled something, which she scowled at. Aside from my native tongue and Basic, I was familiar with Huttese, Twi'leki, Rodese and the Cathar language. It was rare to see a Wookiee in a spaceport and my people had never battled against them, so it would have been a waste learning the language. Now, it was bothersome.
I wouldn't have doubted that those two were planning to kill me. It wouldn't have been intelligent, but it would certainly have brightened my day. I was a warrior, not a diplomat; I would welcome the chance to face off against two worthy combatants instead of wearing the meek smile of a Jedi whipping boy.
As we walked through the plains towards the Sandral Estate, Mission and her Wookiee huddled together and whispered. I resisted the urge to light another cigarra. This trip to Dantooine had already cost me more than half of Davik's cache. I was going to have to find a leaf shop soon if this was to continue.
"This is private property! By what authority are you trespassing on this estate?" The protocol droid bumbled up to us.
Mission giggled. "I have never met a protocol droid that wasn't stuffy."
"Please explain yourself, child," the droid clucked. "Otherwise I will have to call on the war droids if you do not leave the premises."
I fingered my repeating blaster, ready.
"Now you just wait a minute," Mission demanded. "I'll have you know that I can be on this property anytime I feel like it. What your rusted out brain can't handle is—"
The Wookiee's roar interrupted the girl's tirade. Mission scowled.
The droid turned to face the Wookiee. "Cassus Sandral is dead?" it asked.
The Wookiee nodded.
The droid sighed. "Then it is as we feared. You should speak to Nurik yourself. He will want to question you on the details of his son's death."
The massive doors to the estate creaked open and the droid ushered us inside. I ignored the request to disarm and kept my eyes on the fine woven carpet.
An older gentleman greeted us in the foyer. A gnarled hickory stump of a man, Nurik Sandral had seen better days. His red rimmed eyes reminded me of the mad rage seen in a wild animal caged.
"I have been informed by my protocol droid that you have news about my son, Cassus," he said slowly. The gravelly timber of his voice made me think that he had once been a man of worth.
Mission darted a glance to the Wookiee. He muttered something to her and she sighed.
"Cassus Sandral is dead," she said reluctantly.
"Cassus is dead?" Nurik Sandral's dark eyes widened as if he had just noticed us. "I was afraid of this, yet in my heart I knew it must be true. What happened to my son?"
"He was killed by kath hounds while exploring the Dantooine ruins." Mission reached a hand out and curled her fingers in the Wookiee's stomach fur.
"Kath hounds…"
The man's eyes were unsettling. There was something in the way they trailed over the room like a diseased kinrath. If he tried to look at me I would cut them out.
"I was so certain the Matale family was to blame," Sandral said. "But this changes nothing! My son is dead, why should I shed one tear about the disappearance of my bitter enemy's son?"
The Wookiee snorted.
"I must ask you something," Sandral said. "My son had a diary. His private, personal thoughts. Now that he is gone, I have nothing else to remember him by. Please, the diary means more to me than it ever could to you. I will give you 100 credits for its return."
Mission smiled until she received a stern look from the Wookiee. Her lekku twitched as she handed Sandral the datapad.
"Keep your money," she grumbled.
"I thank you for this." Sandral ran a reverent hand over the datapad before he tucked it into his robe. "The diary is all that I have left of my Cassus. We have nothing further to discuss. Please, leave me to my grief."
Sandral walked from the room, leaving Mission to stare at his back gap jawed. The Twi'lek girl scowled and stuck out her tongue at the man as he exited.
"Well, what do we do now, Big Z?" she asked. "We can't really go knock on his door and say, 'Hello there, grieving man! We don't believe you when you say that you don't know anything about Shen Matale's disappearance.' Damned Sithspawn."
"You are from the council, are you not?"
A tall, slender woman emerged from a doorway. Another Sandral, but her age gave her a naïve compassion that her father lacked.
"Looking for Shen Matale?" she asked.
Mission shrugged. "We just came to tell Nurik Sandral about his son."
"My name is Rahasia, Nurik is my father." Rahasia clasped Mission's hands in her own and offered the Twi'lek a polite bow.
Mission stared skeptically at the commonplace courtesy.
"You must forgive my father," Rahasia explained. "He hasn't been himself since Cassus disappeared. He is mad with grief and is convinced that the Matale's are responsible."
"And you're so certain they're not?" I stepped forward.
Rahasia swallowed the gasp that tried to escape her throat. She stared up at me defiantly, her eyes pools of shadow.
"My father is not thinking rationally," Rahasia said crisply.
Mission glared at me and waved her fist. I sighed and lit up another cigarra.
"We found Cassus' body," she told Rahasia. "He was killed by kath hounds. The Matale family had nothing to do with it."
"Cassus is dead?" Rahasia's eyes widened for a brief moment. "Then it is as we feared, though I am relieved the Matales are not responsible."
"We better get back and wait for Rian," Mission suggested.
The Wookiee was the first to reach the door. I followed quickly, if only to avoid destroying that damned protocol droid that was spraying air freshener in my general vicinity.
"My father is a good man," Rahasia continued to our backs. "I just don't want you to judge him too harshly."
"Harshly?" Mission stopped. "Why? What has your father done?"
Rahasia glanced back at the door her father retreated to, then faced us. "You must understand that my father has been under a terrible strain. I have no wish to disobey him, but there are matters where even my father's authority is not absolute."
"Talk," Mission ordered. "Stop dancing around the topic."
The woman's dark eyes darted suspiciously around the room. Rahasia sent the protocol droid off on some worthless task before her attention was once again ours. She lowered her voice.
"My father has kidnapped Shen Matale," Rahasia whispered. "He feels that this is a way to get back at the Matales, a way to get even for the disappearance of my brother."
Mission was startling in her ability to handle the situation so professionally. Only a slightly raised eyebrow betrayed the child's collected exterior as she promised to free the Matale whelp. A terse handshake and a trite farewell later and we were able to leave the estate.
In the relative safety of outside the Sandral estate, Mission crouched over the grass and batted at the overgrown blades. Her face was as sulky as it was thoughtful.
"You don't think there's more to look at here, do you?" Mission asked the Wookiee.
The Wookiee replied in his brutish tongue and scratched the back of his head. Mission sighed.
"That's what I thought," Mission agreed. "That maybe everything wasn't what it seemed."
"What's our plan of action now?" I asked.
Mission crinkled her nose in my direction. "We sneak into the back of the property and bust Shen out."
"Lead the way," I said. "I've got your back."
"Zaalbar has my back," the child snapped. "You could go suck on a thermal detonator for all I care."
The last person that spoke to me with that tone had their tongue torn from their jaw. The child needed discipline and I was unwilling to teach her the virtue. Let Onasi try. Despite his military upbringing it was obvious that he had a weakness for beautiful faced children.
"Let's just be quick about it," I grunted. "I'd like to return you to Rian in one piece."
