Okay, I wasn't stupid. We took her for a spin, with all four of us trying out the controls. She flew beautifully, and Atton was nearly swooning with envy. I haggled and threatened and pretended to nearly walk away from the deal. But I'd made up my mind as soon as Rahid had told me her name; this was the ship I wanted. And in the end, for less credits than the real list price of the new Hawk, I was the proud owner of the five year old Falcon class cruiser Phoenix.
The entire process took another hour, but finally we were flying the Phoenix to her own hanger at the Iziz docks. As part of their services, the transport broker will help make arrangements for storage of the vehicles, if the customer wishes. For a surprisingly modest monthly fee, I could park the Phoenix in a private hanger as long as I needed to. Security was excellent, which relived my mind, considering that I wasn't actually residing on the same planet as the ship. I also had access to maintenance services ranging from simple cleanup to full restoration. I paid extra to have the Phoenix fueled up, provisioned, and completely cleaned, inside and out. Any actual maintenance and/or modifications I wanted to leave to Bao Dur.
Not a bad day's work, I thought with satisfaction as Atton commed the others and we headed out to catch up. I just hope Canderous likes it.
We still had a couple of hours before we were due back at the hotel. Ladria, Mira, Megari and Visas had put their shopping time to excellent use, and were more than willing to pause for a quick snack break. I was hungry, and had missed lunch. Spotting a street vendor who sold delicious-smelling meat pies, I purchased enough to feed all of us. Munching the steaming savory pie, I proudly told the other women about the Phoenix, Atton and Dax chiming in with enthusiastic details.
"Sounds perfect," Mira said, smiling at our enthusiasm. I nodded happily back.
"So how are your errands going?" I asked generally.
"I think we're about finished up," Ladria said, indicating the satchels all four of them sported.
Megari's looked to be the most full, which only made sense, having even less than I did when I hooked up with the crew of the Ebon Hawk. I saw she was wearing a new outfit of a casual tunic and breeches with beautifully crafted boots which I bet Mira talked her into. Always pretty, she was especially so with her face flushed with the steam from her meat pie, the new pale blue tunic setting off her gorgeous purple eyes. She looked happy, and I was glad to see it.
"I don't have much else to do," I said. "I need to stop at the jeweler's and pick up my father's ring, and the tailor wants me to come by for a final fitting."
"Oh yes, clothing," Visas said, handing me another satchel. "Here is yours. We hope you like what we chose for you."
"I'm sure I'll love them," I said with a smile. "Thanks so much for doing that."
Arriving at the clothing shop, Dax and Kex stationed themselves outside the door, having first ascertained that it was the only way in or out. Atton elected to return to the hotel, grumbling about female shopping binges. I thanked him sincerely for all his help and promised that he'd have first shot of taking her for a real cruise soon. He smiled widely, and abruptly kissed Ladria soundly, much to her surprise and our amusement. He said something in her ear that I assumed would have made her blush if she wasn't so good about hiding her emotions. Waving to the rest of the party, he strode off.
No other customers entered while we five women went about our business. I was quite certain it was due to the forbidding-looking pair standing guard. I made a mental note to tip the seamstress handsomely, feeling guilty for possibly costing her sales.
The rest of the shopping went smoothly, even the irritating, boring business of standing still while the tailor made sure my wedding dress hung correctly. I flatly refused to wear the popular style that was so form fitting the bride was reduced to a mincing hobble. Nor had I wanted a bell-skirted monstrosity that had required a durasteel frame that she had suggested when I had been here with Elder Evana; the thing looked like you could hide a swoop bike under it. The dress I had chosen was a comfortable, sleeveless garment made of a silky pale blue fabric that skimmed my body without being overtly clingy. The skirt was draped in such a way that standing still it looked like a simple straight line, but in actual fact allowed me full range of motion. I can't stand clothes that don't allow me to move. That's biggest reason I rarely wear heels, despite my lack of height.
While I was suffering the tailor's clucking and poking, Megari was browsing the ready-made racks, choosing things to add to her and Danni's wardrobes. Ladria, Visas and Mira idly wandered around. I had an excellent view of most of the shop in the mirror, and saw them approach a table full of rather racy underthings. To my amusement, with studied nonchalance Ladria sifted through the offerings, chose a few and paid the woman at the counter. Mira sorted through the table with enthusiasm, gathering a substantial collection in a colorful pile. I resolved to check it out myself when the tailor released me.
Megari was still adding to her pile of clothes when I was finally free, so I had a little time to look. I made my choices, and paid as she was stowing the last of her purchases in her satchel. We left, considerably more laden, although I was surprised how compact the capes and wedding dress actually folded down to. I was pleased that the capes I had ordered earlier were ready to go, and the dress hadn't needed any last adjustments; the seamstress had simply wanted to make certain of the fit. I didn't mind her being meticulous, even though I really hate to have to stand so still. She had done a beautiful job.
I had dropped off my father's wedding ring at the jeweler's as we had left the hotel. I knew Mandalorians didn't customarily wear rings, and didn't actually expect Canderous to. I did hope he would understand why I offered it though, and wanted him to have it. I had thought about it for some time after I had emptied my lockbox. I knew my father would have liked Canderous, once he got over him being Mandalorian. However, Dad had been built more like Atton, although a good ten centimeters shorter, and he had had slender, long-fingered hands; the ring might fit Canderous' pinky. I had estimated how much to size it and hoped I had guessed right. After collecting it, we headed back to the hotel.
Everyone scattered to their various rooms, and I trudged toward mine, Mira, Dax and Kex in tow. My bodyguards refused to let me out of their sight until I was safely in Canderous' keeping, and I had assured Mira that Dax was free to go once we got there. Canderous and I had gotten a three bedroom suite, so that the honor guard could stay with us and still ensure privacy all around. I knew Mira had taken a room by herself, and that likely we wouldn't see either Dax or Mira until the next day. I made shooing motions at the pair of them as Kex followed me into the suite. Grinning, they waved back and disappeared down the hall. Kex grunted something I chose to think was a friendly 'see you' noise and headed to the room he was sharing with Kelborn and, theoretically, Dax.
"How did your errands go, Wildcat?" Canderous asked after giving me a thorough and toe-tingling kiss hello.
"Very well," I said enthusiastically. "I have a few things to share with you later," I added with a suggestive wink.
"Do you now?" He said, quirking an eyebrow.
His grin turned wolfish, and I restrained myself from grabbing him and dragging us to our room. I was hungry; the meat pie had barely taken the edge off. Hmmm. Sex, or food? I was about to ignore the hunger pangs and suggest I give him a private fashion show of my new underwear when my stomach disagreed with me loudly. I sighed.
"Let's get you fed, Wildcat," Canderous said with a rumbling chuckle. "I can see your new…outfit…later," he hastily amended his original choice of words as Kelborn, Xarga, Zuka and Tagren wandered in. I gave him a rueful smile and agreed.
After checking if Kex wanted to come along, the seven of us headed to a nearby cantina that the hotel clerk assured us had excellent food as well as every imaginable alcoholic beverage in the galaxy. Shortly, we were seated and digging in to a most delicious meal. The waiter was a little nervous having six large, fierce looking Mandalorian warriors at his table, but relaxed a little when he saw how much we ordered. Having just put out about half the value of my parent's estate, I refused to let the size of our bill to bother me.
Dinner was lively enough. Canderous gave an edited version of his conversation with Carth Onasi. I was receiving the full version mentally while he talked and was impressed all over again that he actually knew the man. He did share with everyone his little joke concerning me, and while I didn't really approve, I couldn't help but laugh.
"You should have seen him, cyar'ika. He was astonished I was getting married in the first place, and it was so obvious he expects you to be something just short of a Sith Lord," Canderous said almost gleefully, his chuckle rumbling around the table.
"I suppose that's better than a cantina whore," I said sweetly, causing Zuka to nearly choke on his food. The rest of them laughed. Canderous shook his head.
"I'll never live that one down, will I?" He sighed.
"Nope," I said cheerfully.
We finished up our meal, and decided to explore the cantina further. The dining area was set apart from the other entertainments, although they had a small Bith band playing quietly in the background. We wandered about, gaining a few dirty looks from other customers that were quickly concealed when one of our party looked directly their way. I thought at first it was because the honor guard insisted on surrounding Canderous and me; six Mandalorians take up a lot of room. Plus none of the honor guard were being particularly polite about getting people out of their way. They weren't overtly shoving or being verbally abusive. They simply walked the direction they wanted, and expected anyone in their path to move. Unsurprisingly, this worked.
Gradually I realized that the hostility I was feeling wasn't so much due to our bodyguards' attitude as the simple fact they were Mandalorian. And, after a moment of monitoring the mood, to my astonishment I understood that many of the people in the room were eyeing me with disdain. I was bewildered.
Why is half the bar looking at me like I sold the Republic to the Sith? I asked Canderous. And the other half like they expect you guys to help negotiate the contract? Wait, okay, I get that…if I didn't know you six, I might be scared too.
The hell you would, Canderous answered with an inward chuckle. Cautious, maybe.
Do you even know what you look like to someone who doesn't know you? I asked rather tartly.
Depends on what you mean by that, Wildcat, he replied, amused. And to be frank, I don't really care. Nor should you.
I thought about that, and nodded. Maybe not. But suddenly, I don't really feel like hanging around for a drink.
We can leave if you like…
But you don't think we should. Why? I had caught the disapproval in his tone.
He sighed in my head. People fear and dislike my kind, and for good reason, he said simply. You can leave, and hide from it, or you can face it down. Your choice.
I sighed back. You're right. We'll stay.
That's my girl, he said approvingly.
We found a table, and ordered. I chose wine, and asked for water as well. The Mandalorians ordered several pitchers of ale. The waitress, a pretty Twi'lik with gray eyes and lovely blue-green skin, jotted down the selections and left as hastily as she could. I could feel her nervousness and carefully masked hostility and tried to smile at her reassuringly. She gave me a brief searing glance as she retreated and I tried not to let it bother me.
Our drinks arrived quickly, and I read between the lines that it was a subtle hint to drink up and get out. As I was assimilating this, a large man who looked as if he could take any one of our party on without breaking a sweat approached. He was beefy, practically without a neck, and while he was a head shorter than Canderous he was nearly as broad. He wasn't, however, Mandalorian; no clan tattoo on his upper arm, which the cut off sleeves of his stretched to the limit shirt showed clearly. His face might once have been handsome, but at some point he'd broken a cheekbone that hadn't been properly healed; it gave him a slightly lopsided look. Plus his nose had been rearranged so many times that it was wide and flatish, contrasting oddly with the strong square jaw and high undamaged cheekbone.
"I'm sorry, but no underage allowed here," he said in a calm, almost friendly tenor, much higher than I had expected.
"Huh?" I said, looking around. Then I realized he meant me. I laughed in surprise.
"She's of age," Canderous assured him.
I smiled, giving him a nice display of teeth. He didn't return it. I sighed, and dug for my Republic ID, handing it over. He scanned it critically, relenting when he couldn't find any sign of it being forged.
"Sorry, miss," he said, handing it back. "You're just small for a Mandalorian; I assumed your father didn't know we were a restricted cantina. Nothing personal."
"No problem," I said with a friendly smile. "You have a bar to run, after all. And he's not my father."
"Oh," he said, looking uncomfortable. "Well, enjoy your evening."
He wandered away. As I was stowing my ID card, I was startled to find a folded piece of paper tucked behind it. Curious, I smoothed it out. In a hastily scrawled hand, it read:
I can help you get away. Get to the 'fresher and we'll smuggle you out. Don't worry, we'll take care of your captors.
I stared at the paper, not sure whether to laugh, cry, or throw things. I had been blocking the mood around me as best I could, knowing that a good many people in the bar seemed to think I was either being coerced or, worse, voluntarily fraternizing with whom they viewed as little better than animals. While I wanted to scream, I also had to admire the guy for his guts; he really did seem to think he was rescuing me.
"I think," I said slowly, "We ought to get out of here when we're done with our drinks."
"What do you have there, cyar'ika?" Canderous asked, taking the paper from my numb fingers. He read it, and his face blanked.
"I see." He ran his hand through his hair and down his face. "Well, can't say I'm that surprised. Brave fellow," he added as an afterthought. He passed the note discretely to Kelborn, who scowled briefly upon reading it, then went as blank as Canderous. The other four had nearly the same reaction.
"If we try to leave right away, he'll likely take that as evidence that I am with you against my will," I said just loud enough for our table to hear. "If we stay too long…well….I just don't like this at all," I said a little lamely.
"Nothing we can do about it, unless we want to start a brawl. Not that I mind that idea," Canderous said with a sudden wicked grin. "But I don't fancy watching Atton's glee as the others bail us out of the local jail."
"Speak for yourself, Mandalore," Xarga grinned. "I don't plan on being taken alive."
"Oh, that's a real help," I said irritably.
"Might not have a choice," Tagren said, starting to grin himself. He pointed with his chin over Canderous' head, and we turned to see about six large guys approaching the table. Two had vibroswords, the other four blasters, and they looked ready to use them. I slowly eased my chair a little away from the table, ready to grab my swords, and felt Canderous go on full alert.
Let me handle this, I said to Canderous, and after a pause, he nodded.
Give it a shot, Wildcat, he answered, and gave a subtle signal to the others to be alert, but not try anything…yet.
I smiled brightly at the approaching party. "Good evening, gentlemen," I said in my friendliest voice.
"Miss, you can come out of there," the one who seemed to be in charge said without preamble. He was nearly as big as the bouncer who had slipped me the note, as were the rest of his companions. He had a nice face, though, and a quick scan of his aura showed me he was honestly trying to help me. Wonderful. "You don't have to stay with this rabble."
A low growl only I heard reverberated through my head. I shook it off, still smiling, but casually put my hands closer to the hilt of my blades.
"I think there's a misunderstanding here," I said easily. "I'm fine where I am, and my husband would object to losing my company. Let me buy you nice men a drink, I do appreciate your concern."
"Husband?" he said, clearly thrown. Then he scowled. "You're far too small to be Mandalorian."
Why do people seem to love pointing out the obvious? Like I hadn't noticed by the permanent crick in my neck that I don't look the rest of the world in the eye?
"I'm not," I answered shortly. No pun intended. "Not that it's your business. Now, how about that drink?" I smiled. less winningly.
He looked at me long and hard, and I stared him down. "You're either lying, or have incredibly bad taste in men," he finally said. "Where did they take you from?"
"Look, mister, I've tried to be reasonable," I said, shifting gears and giving him my coldest look. "I am here, having a drink with my husband and his kin, and it's none of your concern. Go away now, there's a good fellow."
Canderous and the others were glaring daggers at the intruders, who were starting to look nervous. But the man with the nice face continued to stare at me, frowning. I scowled back.
"Try to help someone," he said, not quite sneering. "I never thought I'd see the day when a woman of ours would choose to keep company with this trash. You're either brainwashed, or crazy."
I'd had it, and jumped to my feet. Canderous and the others followed suit. The disapproval of the bar in general and these men in particular had been buzzing around me like a persistent insect and I was getting cranky. I'm not used to being hated by otherwise nice people that don't even know me. At worst, I was used to being invisible.
Nice face's companions looked like they wanted to back up but stood their ground.
"I am neither brainwashed nor crazy." I used my calmest, most reasonable voice, but inside I was seething. "You have courage, which is all that is keeping me and these men from challenging you for your insults. We are not looking for trouble. Walk away. Now."
For the first time, he seemed to notice that I was armed. He took in my stance, my blades, the calm determination on my face, the fire in my eye and suddenly, truly understood I didn't need or want help.
"Take this outside," the voice of the bouncer cut through the tension.
I continued to lock eyes with my would-be rescuer. He and his buddies seemed relieved at the interruption, and I smiled in satisfaction.
"No problem," I said coolly. I gave Nice Face a look that told him I saw his fear. "We were just leaving."
I threw some credits on the table and stalked past the hostile party. Grim-faced, the Mandalorians followed. I was so angry I couldn't see straight. Snarling with frustration, rage, and, although I didn't want to admit it, humiliation, I punched the side of the building hard enough to crack a knuckle. I barely felt the pain.
"Damn it," Tagren said regretfully. "That could have been fun."