"Normal speaking."
Thoughts/dreams.
"Huttese words."
(Speaking in Huttese.)
Tatooine, 24 BBY
The smallish room was darkened when Kitster Banai walked in, the dusty curtains drawn firmly shut to ward off the bright Tatooine suns. The young pirate could make out the outlines of many machines, some complete and others piles of scrap. There were shelves full of mechanical inventions and inside some of these lay datachips containing information, maps, and codes. A desk of sorts was settled off in the corner, several smaller machines, a battered datapad, and an ancient holoprojector scattered across it. In the middle of the mess, his head buried in his arms, rested a tall young man around Kitster's age.
"Hey, Cap." The pirate nudged the sleeping man lightly. "C'mon, time to get up." He prodded his friend again.
"Whazzagoinon?" The man sat up, blinking groggily. Seventeen-year-old Anakin Skywalker looked at Kitster somewhat reproachfully, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
Kitster grinned at his friend affectionately. "It's time to go, baatu baatu." He said cheerfully. "Everyone's all ready to go, 'cept you."
"Mm." Anakin mumbled, blinking. "Kitster, 'm tired. Lemme sleep."
"Sorry, Cap." Kitster sang cheerfully. He seized the other man by his shoulder and pulled, forcing Anakin to get up, swipe the datapad and several datachips off the table, and follow his friend out of the tiny hut into the sun.
"Ow." Anakin had thrown up his right arm to shield his eyes and was now rubbing it, wincing.
"Be careful! That's your bad arm, remember?" Kitster scolded, letting the other go. He was shorter than Anakin by a few inches and his skin was darker, turned almost black by the Tatooine suns. He had dark, quick eyes and an easy grin, a scar on his cheek from a stray blaster bolt, and short- cropped black hair that stuck up wildly. A blaster was holstered at his belt and he was stout and well- muscled from years of hard work.
"Now I do." Anakin said, slightly more coherent. "It's early." He defended himself. "You'd forget too." Anakin was the opposite of Kitster, tall, thin, and blonde, with hair long enough to show a curl and bright blue eyes. He had plenty of scars on his bared arms but none on his face and he was wiry, quick-looking, with a world-weary air under his good nature, especially in the early morning.
"It's not that early, actually." Kitster corrected. He pulled Anakin's hand away from his arm, examining the long, dark red scar that went from Anakin's elbow to halfway up his arm. "Anakin, you should really see a doctor or something." He said worriedly. "It's been almost two years now. If it was going to get better, it would have by now."
"I'm not going to see a doctor." Anakin said flatly. "They'll only tell me that I gotta get my arm cut off. My arm is fine, baatu. You worry too much."
Kitster snorted. "Yeah. So whenever you try and lift it, it doesn't hurt."
"It's fine. I can pilot with it. I'm left- handed, anyway." Anakin said firmly. "Now c'mon, let's go. Seek won't be happy if we keep him waiting."
Sighing, Kitster agreed and the pair walked away from the hut and into a large, mazelike canyon. The suns were nearly halfway through the sky, baking the deserts of Tatooine, but the smooth stones of the canyons, too far from the suns and their heat, were cool.
After several minutes of walking, Anakin and Kitster turned a corner and arrived at a seemingly smooth, impossible to climb wall. At the top, a large cave yawned and the silver flash of a sleek ship could be seen.
"Wald didn't put the Lady back far enough." Anakin observed.
"Wald never puts the Lady back far enough." Kitster pointed out. "Good thing Seek knows how to put the Dragon away." He said cheerfully. The Dragon-Speaker was Kitster's personal ship, a Redthorn-class scout ship designed for law enforcement. It was the Dragon that went in first, scoping out for the Lady and the third ship in the pirate fleet, the Moderation.
Anakin snorted, irritated. He treated the Red Lady like she was his child. He even talked to her on occasion. He walked up to the wall and shouted up in Huttese. (Wald, open the door.) Someone called from inside the wall, and with a loud, rusting creak, a part of the rock wall swung inward, revealing another dank cavern, this one lit up by torches, mostly because Anakin couldn't steal away the power needed without attracting unwanted attention.
(Aye, Cap!)
Anakin and Kitster went inside, nodding to W. Wald, a Rodian, and climbed up the set of roughly hewn stairs. Behind them Wald closed the door and bolted it, following his friends up the stairs.
(Cap, with the Moderation inside, there isn't enough room in the cave for the Lady.) Wald explained. (And Hondo won't move her to make room.)
(He's a trouble maker, Hondo.) Kitster muttered. (He won't stay with us for long. He wants more.)
(I'll be sad to see him go.) Anakin said wistfully. (He's a good pirate. He'll go far, someday.)
(I don't think he likes be under your leadership. He finds it insulting and a blow to his pride to have to listen to you and Kitster.) Wald chirped. (He still thinks you a boy, Cap.)
Anakin rolled his eyes, reaching the top of the stairs. (He can think whatever he wants. As long as he does what he's told, I've got no problem with him.)
Kitster and Wald nodded agreeably. Anakin's pirates were loose and relaxed. As long as no one turned traitor and everyone did their work, there were no problems.
Another door opened to reveal the makeshift hangar bay, the cave in which all three ships were docked. Hondo Ohnaka and his Weequay pirates Turk Falso and Pilf Mukmuk were leaning against the Moderation, Hondo's Flarestar-class ship. The circular ship was well- polished and neat, in better shape than the rather battered Dragon and Lady. Anakin's ship was the largest, a sleek silver and yellow Roh- class shuttle that Anakin picked up on Nar Shaddaa and modified for the life of a pirate ship. Seek was waiting patiently by the Dragon, his red hair vibrant even in the dark. He and Kitster were the only ones who flew in the Dragon. The Red Lady was the only ship that could carry everyone, but Anakin usually flew her with Melee, Wald, and Jonash Solo, a man the gang found on Iego, homeless and drunk.
"Are we ready to go, my friends?" Anakin called out, gleefully rubbing his hands together.
The assembled pirates roared happily. They hadn't been out raiding for over a week and the pirates were eager to get back to business.
"What's the plan, Cap?" Jonash shouted.
Anakin grinned. "Same as usual." He trotted over to the battered holoprojecter that sat in the center of the room and stuck a datachip in the slot. A map of the Nar Hutta system sprang up, its famous "Smuggler's Moon" revolving peacefully. "There's going to be a small band of smugglers, in three or four ships, leaving Nar Shaddaa in three days. They're carrying spices, weapons, and slaves."
A collective hiss went around the room. With the exception of Jonash, every single pirate had touched by some form of slavery. The Weequay pirates, all of whom had lost relatives to the roaming bands of slavers, were particularly fierce in freeing slaves, hoping to find some lost family member or other. No pirate was quite as ferocious in fighting slavers than Anakin, but, Kitster rationalized, that was to be expected.
"So we pounce on the smugglers when they are clear of the system? Before they reach hyperspace?" Hondo asked.
Anakin nodded. "Aye. The Dragon will be in the system first and alert us when the smugglers leave."
"Aye, Cap." Kitster said. Seek grinned, his face flushing with excitement.
"When you call us, Hondo and I'll bring our ships down and deal with the smugglers. And Hondo, let's not destroy the ships this time. There are slaves aboard, and we don't want to kill them."
The Weequay pirate nodded reluctantly. "We will hold back."
"Good." Anakin nodded, satisfied. "Boska!"
The pirate gang cheered and began to climb into the ships, brimming with excitement. Anakin was last to board the Lady and he turned to look for Kitster.
"Baatu baatu." He called. "Don't get lost this time!"
"Choy? I did not get lost!" Kitster roared, outraged, but Anakin was already gone, laughing. Kitster smiled despite himself and climbed into his ship. "C'mon, Seek. We're leading the way."
"Again?" The redhead grumbled. "Ah, fine."
Still smiling, Kitster Banai settled into the pilot's chair and started his ship. Looking out to see that his comrades were clear, he guided her forward and accelerated, swinging the Dragon-Speaker out into the open desert and up into space, his baatu hot on his heels.
A Glossary of Huttese Words and Phrases (in Order of Appearance)
Baatu baatu- Brother
Boska- Let's Go
Choy- What?