A/N Hi friends! Sorry for the delay in posting, life's been keeping me busy! I hope you like this little piece I've manage to get done. Hopefully soon I'll be back to a regular posting schedule again. Enjoy!
28 BBY - Tatooine
Tiny whirlwinds of dust kicked up as the thrusters of Jango's Slave I engaged. Cye strode away from the vessel with a confident swagger in her brother's armor. She'd spent the last few weeks reacclimating to their old deception. She had every minute detail of his posture memorized. She adopted his mannerisms easily, even down to the tells no one else but her noticed. Not even the Kal Skirata and the Nulls caught any differences. No one ever questioned that they weren't dealing with Jango Fett himself. The only thing she couldn't do was pilot through hyperspace on his ship.
"Are you sure it's just the droid?" Cye asked. The vocal modulator she'd swallowed tickled her throat as she spoke in her brother's voice.
"Positive," Jango's response came through the helmet's integrated comm. "I did some research and got Zam to do the rest. It's on its own."
"Never heard of an independent droid," Cye mused. "Remember that one that led the charge in the mines? I wonder if it might be the same one."
"Doubtful. I'll be in range for the next hour. If negotiations don't pan out I'll meet you outside Mos Eisley."
"Copy that, Ori'vod."
The settlement had expanded since she'd last been there a couple years before, and not in a good way. Mos Eisley seemed to relish the scraps of Mos Espa, taking in the worst of the other city's illicit activities, goods, and people. It was a decent place to hide for someone who wanted to be ignored. It was also a decent place for someone to get robbed or killed in anonymity.
The twin suns were rising, casting a hazy orange glow over the haphazard collage of pocked stone and sandy duracrete structures that stretched outwards from the remnants of the Dowager Queen like spokes in a wheel. The narrow streets were packed in the early morning as the port city's denizens made their trades in the market and day laborers moved cargo from one freighter to the next before it got too hot to do anything other than drink and gamble. Cye wove through the crowd without much hassle. Sticking out in Jango's shining beskar'gam drew some eyes, but they were smart enough to stay out of a Mandalorian's way.
Towards the center of town, just beyond the old wreckage of the Dowager Queen, was the row of blockhouses that made up the original settlement. They were crumbling even by the low standard set for the spaceport, but they were built deep into the ground. That saving grace alone is what helped the town survive while the ports were under construction. Now the old blockhouses served as a hub for travellers, grifters, and drifters, the centerpiece being the Cantina.
Mos Eisley Cantina had a reputation. It's infamy was known not just on Tatooine, but on every nearby system. Even Coruscant had few places that compared to the degenerate clientele that frequented the establishment. It also happened to be the best place for discreet meetings and backroom dealings outside of Jabba's Palace. Especially if someone didn't want to involve the Hutt.
Cye ducked into the entrance and down the steps. Three bith and a Kitonack were on the small stage setting up and tuning their instruments for the day's entertainment. The greying, hunched human behind the counter did a double take as she pushed the curtains aside and sidled up to the bar.
"We're not open yet," he said warily.
"I'm not here to drink."
The nervous man busied himself with the taps, trying and failing to keep the worry from his shaking hands. "I don't want any trouble, Fett." So he recognizes the armor, Cye thought, wondering what her brother might have done to gain notoriety in the small cantina.
"I'm not looking for any," Cye replied in Jango's gruff tone. "I'm waiting for someone."
The barkeep opened his mouth to reply, but thought better of it and went back to his work, shifting away from the taps and away from Cye to busy himself with unstacking and restacking glasses at the far end of the bar. She cast her eyes up and left then blinked twice to activate the HUD in Jango's helmet. With a quick eye scan and flick she activated the sensors and ran a sweep of the room, checking for any hidden weapons and anomalies.
It wasn't the blaster rifle behind the counter that caught her attention. Every two meters around the bar was an electro-pulse pistol and a set of EMP grenades. She never saw so many in one place outside of a military arsenal. There was enough stored here to disable an entire star ship's computer systems if they were placed efficiently.
"Out of my way, mouth breather."
Heavy metal steps followed the tinny, feminine voice that echoed off the stone doorway. Cye turned around, hands on blasters as a massive, piecemeal droid entered the cantina. It looked to be made of leftover parts from an astromech production line, including parts from the line itself.
"You need to leave," the man behind the bar said with a vigor he'd not had when speaking to Cye.
"Why not?" The droid asked, their metallic voice icy with derision. "Maybe this time I'm a paying customer now that you aren't using my brothers and sisters as slave labor."
"We don't serve your kind here," the barman replied. Cye saw the cantina band duck behind the relative safety of their equipment. "No droids are allowed in this establishment. Especially you." He emphasized his words with his pointed finger before gripping the handle of the closest electro-pulse pistol. Before he had the chance to aim it Cye's blaster was in her hand and pointed at him.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Cye spoke in her brother's low rumble, not quite a threat; moreso a less than friendly suggestion. "Keep your hands on the bar where I can see them."
"I don't need your help, organic." The droid sounded almost disappointed.
"No, but I need yours. So I'd prefer you alive and fully operational." The droid looked over her brother's armor and cocked their head. "L3-37?"
"That's me."
"Good." Cye faced her T-visor towards the barkeep and nodded towards the back of the cantina. The dismissal combined with the blaster aimed at his face were enough to convince him to make a hasty retreat to check stock along the shelves at the back of the bar. She easily twirled the blaster and holstered it in one fluid motion, just like Jango. "Let's talk business."
They moved away from the bar and away from the cantina band that shakily came out from hiding. As curious as Cye was about what had happened here to earn this droid such a dangerous reputation, that wasn't something that Jango would ask. It only mattered that they could get the job done.
"So what do you want?" Elthree asked. "You don't look like you need a cargo freighter."
"I don't. I need transport to Coruscant. Discreet transport."
"Ah," the droid said with a nod of understanding. They straddled a chair and sat down across from Cye, their towering frame leaning over the chair back. "That I can provide."
"For how much?"
"Five thousand credits," they replied flatly.
"That's a bit steep, don't you think?" Another less than friendly suggestion.
Elthree remained unfazed. "Not at all. I know who you are. Someone of your renown, and dare I say infamy, must have a very important reason to need to sneak around on a no name freighter. I'd say you're getting a bargain."
"I know you're having trouble keeping steady jobs without an organic pilot to broker your contracts," Cye began to negotiate.
"That's because idiots like that waste of breath flesh sack see me and my kind as nothing but second class servants," Elthree spat. The servos in their hands whirred and squeaked as they clenched their fists and slammed one on the table in frustration. "I'm trying to run a legitimate business and they think they can swindle or slap a restraining bolt on me and take what's mine. I'm my own woman and I'll charge as much as any other organic would and not a credit less."
Cye remained unmoving during the droid's outburst, but she couldn't disagree. This was exactly what she and Jango were hoping for. A pilot desperate for work who wouldn't put up with or bow to authority or threats. She reached into her side pouch and withdrew a credit fold and tossed it over to Elthree. The droid flipped it open and paused, their optics flickering between the credits and Cye's T-visor.
"Five thousand now, and another five to stick around and take back an unlisted passenger from Coruscant." Cye leaned forward with easy confidence. "If that goes well then I'll have more business for you in the future. Deal?"
Elthree snatched the credits off the table and tucked them away. "When do we leave?"