Chapter 18 – Hero's Reward

[AN – So apparently the way to get lots of reviews is to have Corso brutally kill everyone. Well FINE, then! Review away. :D Also, if you remember the dance scene back in Chapter 3? I didn't realize that I was being influenced by one of my favorite documentaries, Mad Hot Ballroom. It's about a program in NYC public schools that teaches ballroom dancing to middle-schoolers. So you've got these 11-year-old kids learning how to merengue and foxtrot and stuff and it is just FREAKING adorable.

The fast song, where they're cutting loose and havin' fun, is something like youtube video K6U3FyJBv4 while the slow song is more like 9oDHw4wwTQI – except, of course, that Vacy and Corso aren't eleven. Soo… yeah. ;)

THIS chapter, however, is more strongly influenced by the "truth serum" scene from the movie Knight and Day.]

"… and I can't even begin to tell you how h'miliating it is to innerduce yerself as 'Captin' when you're getting onner shuttle."

The slaver snorted as he placed his next pazaak card on the floor of the cargo compartment. "Great!" he snapped at the drugged Mirialan. "Does that mean you'll shut up?" He turned to his Devaronian partner. "You sure we can't just shoot her? We could sell the parts…"

Since the interior of the compartment was dim as well as stuffy and hot, both slavers had glow rods perched over an ear, affording them just enough light to play. They'd pulled off their helmets and gloves – the slaves were bound and drugged anyway, and the heavy armor made the Tatooine heat even less pleasant. The Devaronian snorted. "In an Imp city? Neg that, Quan. Who'd buy 'em?" He peered at the cards that were out, then back at the ones he held in his hands.

Vacy was leaning against one of the other slaves, gesturing somewhat limply as she continued her seemingly-endless monologue. "I just don't unnerstan' why ever'body's always so mean t'me. I mean, sure, Skavak's mad now, 'counta when I got my ship back it had that cargo in it, an' every time he tries t'cheat me outta a job it don't work, but that ain't my fault!"

It was then that the entire vehicle jerked, stalled, and then started forward again at a slower pace. The floor seemed to tilt as the freighter headed up the incline. The human slaver cursed as the flimsiplast cards slid around. "Quit stalling, Senator, and make your borkin' play!" By now, he was gritting his teeth.

"His naaaame isn't 'Senator,' it's Makelllllli," Vacy crooned out in a lazy sing-song. "Makelli-belli fo-felli, a-poodoo-foodoo so-smelly, me-my-mo-melli. Makelli!"

At this point they were both glaring at her. "That one weren't part of the original haul anyway," groused Quan. "If we-"

But whatever he was planning was cut short as the freighter swayed viciously from side to side and then slammed to an abrupt halt. "Cuck it!" snapped Makeli, scowling in the direction of the cab. "What're those gristers slagging about for?"

They sat there for a long moment in stillness, save for the whimpering of a few of the slaves. Despite their near-comatose state, they had been able to pick up on the change in the situation. After a bit, though, even that quiet murmuring died down into silence.

"Hahahahahaha…" The Mirialan's laugh startled both of the slavers. The lurching of the vehicle had apparently tipped her over; she lay on the floor, now, a low, inebriated chuckle slowly rolling forth. "Youuu guys are in sooooo much trouble."

"Chaos take you!" hissed Makeli. The two men slowly got to their feet, stacking the cards and slipping them back into the packs, grabbing for their gear and shoving it back on.

A sudden crash followed by shouting and blaster fire made the slavers fumble for their weapons, staring up at the unexpected – but unmistakable – sounds of combat. Something (someone?) slammed against the roof, and there was a scream that trailed off.

Over on the floor, Vacy giggled again. "Tha's not chaos, silly!" she chirped. Her broad smile was unsettling. "Tha's Corso Riggs!"

Feet pounded on the roof, thundering toward the rear of the freighter. The gunfire continued, interspersed with small explosions and rough shouting. Eventually, though, it died down, and again, there was silence.

There was a heavy thump from behind the vehicle. Quan and Makeli edged forward, weapons drawn, toward the door.

With a scream of tortured metal, it was wrenched open. The slavers squinted as their eyes adjusted to the glare further ahead – sunlight and sand created a blistering whiteness from which a figure emerged, striding toward them.

About a third of the way in, it stopped. "Captain?" came a rough voice.

"Heyyyy, Riggs!" replied the cheerful voice the slavers had grown to hate.

"I'll have you outta here in two shakes, Captain," rasped the man who stood facing the slavers. He pulled out an enormous vibrosword, his eyes narrowing. "I just got a bit of killin' to do first."

"Corso," Vacy murmured. Her head lolled to the side and she squinted toward the commotion.

"Little busy here, Captain," he muttered. Hewie hummed and slashed in the darkness. There were a series of grunts and gasps. He heard the whine of a vibroblade deepening as it cut into his armor, and he knew he was running out of time. Don't let me die, he prayed.

"Corso?" This time her voice sounded more plaintive.

Somewhere within him he found desperate reserves of power he hadn't yet finished off. He lunged, twisted, and the slaver next to him fell. Corso stepped past him, toward the other. The floor was already slick with blood; he wasn't sure how much of it was theirs and how much was his. The second slaver fired point-blank at him, and Corso heard a series of faint beeps before the hum of his shield went dead. I got no time for this. He grabbed the barrel of the man's gun, jammed it up underneath his helmet, and crushed his hand around the slaver's. Blaster bolts lit up the inside of the helmet. The body spasmed, and when Corso let go, it dropped to the floor.

"Vacy!" Already scrambling toward her, it was a matter of seconds before he crouched by her side. He didn't need to hear her response to know where she was; he was worried about how she was.

"Corso…" He slipped his arms around her, lifting her gently. Her unfocused gaze finally settled on him. "Y'don't seem very happy to see me," she pouted.

That was it? That was the reason for the pleading tone in her voice?

He reached up with one hand, tilting her face a bit more toward his. "I am always glad to see you, Vacy," he said huskily. And with that he pressed his lips to hers, and when her arms pulled him closer and she clung to him, it didn't matter that they were stranded in hostile territory on a barren planet. He lifted his head, and took a careful breath. "I love you," he whispered.

And in the darkness of the cargo compartment, her smile was brighter than the twin suns' noon. "Oh, Corso," she whispered back. "I love you, too." She chuckled softly as she pulled him to her again. "What took you so long?"

"I'll make up for it," he murmured against her mouth. "I promise."