Chapter 8

Rayf had put The Flamusfracta into a steady, elliptical orbit around the asteroid, an unassuming flight pattern that he had explained in an aside to Foyi was expected of regular visitors. His hail had not been answered yet, but he also assured her it was customary for Point Nadir Traffic Control to let visitors sit and stew for awhile. "After all, they need some time to give us a nice long scan, make sure we're actually someone who's supposed to be here."

Foyi felt her tchun twitch nervously. "And...are we supposed to be here?"

Rayf shrugged. "Not necessarily, but those who are 'in the know' on Point Nadir are allowed to come and go as we please. Just as long as Traffic Control gets a match for my vessel in their databanks, and I don't put up too much of a fuss about the local 'port authority' shaking me down for fees, we won't have a problem." Foyi looked nonplussed, to which Rayf merely shrugged again. "What do you want? It's one of the most secret shadowports in the galaxy, run by Hutts, slicers, and gangsters."

The comm terminal crackled, and a flat, authoritative voice spoke in clipped tones. "Welcome back, Captain Moors. You are cleared for landing. Follow the beacon and do not deviate from the provided course."

Rayf pressed the button to answer the hail. "Thanks, boys. Always great talking to ya." There was no answer to his cheerful remarks, save for a flashing light seen in the shadows of the comet's bulk, pulsing above the gaping maw in the side of the icy stone. Rayf adjusted the ship's approach and opened the throttle, the Firepray wheeling through the black. The dark void, blacker than the space and the stone surrounding it, grew in the viewports, like the distended jaws of an exogorth swelling to swallow their ship whole. Foyi could not suppress a twinge of subconscious claustrophobic discomfort as the darkness swallowed them. She felt as if the dark, ice-slicked walls of the comet's gullet were pressing down on her chest, her face, her lekku, despite the fact that the tunnel must have been over five hundred meters in diameter, which meant there was plenty of empty space between the exterior hull of the ship and the interior walls of the tunnel. Rayf's hand input a few commands on the console before him, and The Flamusfracta's exterior lights snapped on, ghostly cones of light that illuminated only a small portion of the tunnel ahead, which twisted and turned out of sight. Foyi leaned forward as objects floated into the light, and she realized she was looking at debris and torn sections of starship, from vessels throughout the centuries who had been not so fortunate in navigating the tunnel's confines. There was an inert CloakShape Fighter spinning slowly on its wings, its rear maneuvering fin sheared off from some long-past catastrophe. A large section of fuselage with exposed holes that denoted ejected escape pods whirled past the upper portions of the viewport, close enough that Rayf had to dip the starship downward to avoid it. As he steered the ship around the sharp corner in the midst of the tunnel, they had to juke and dodge through several torn sections of hull that had once belonged to a lengthy, sinister vessel that had been shredded when impacting the bladed corner of the tunnel. Closer inspection revealed it to be the mangled corpse of a Derriphan-class Battleship of the Old Sith Empire, marking the vessel as thousands of years old. Even as they passed beneath one of the large portions of the hull, Foyi had to suppress a shiver as weak but no less malevolent currents of the Dark Side lapped at her subconscious, icy claws caressing her brain. She looked to Rayf to see if he felt it as well, and the slight furrow in his brow showed that he had.

A few moments of silence sliding through the dark and avoiding the detritus of those who had come before and never left deposited them in a wider section of the tunnel, which only increased in scale, until the walls fled out of range of the exterior lights. But now they had come into a humongous cavern, the exact dimensions of which were unfathomable due to the distance and the cloying darkness beyond their view. But the contours and perimeters of the caverns could be glimpsed only in part, for there were infrequent clusters of lights along the outer edges, denoting the tangle docking clamps, umbilicals, enclosed catwalks, and languidly-floating chains that provided meager accommodations for visiting starships to secure themselves in the lack of gravity. As the ship sped through the open, lightening darkness, more shapes came into view, some stationary, others moving quickly back and forth. There were small shuttles and skiffs zipping across the cavern's expanse, heading to the starships tethered along the outer walls, while others were returning the an extensive row of docking bays, large, rectangular structures protruding from the far wall of the cavern, where hundreds of small lights provided a gloomy, eerie sort of illumination across the back wall of the cavern. There were the occasional starships piloted by other visitors or residents of Point Nadir, some maneuvering around Rayf and Foyi to leave through the tunnel they had entered, while others sidled up to the haphazard and disconcerting snarl of random, slapdash docking capabilities along the outer walls. Foyi was glad to see that Rayf was steering The Flamusfracta for the boxy hangars looming ahead, their open blast doors protected by atmospheric shields, keeping at bay the insatiable hunger of hard vacuum.

Foyi peered closely at the bright rectangle of light coming toward them, seemingly to swallow them whole, as had the tunnel before it. She stood slightly from her seat to crane her neck and thus increase her visual range about the viewports. "What...is this place? This cave...it's humongous. It must be the entirety of the comet; is Point Nadir completely hollow?"

Rayf shook his head, a bemused smile on his lips. "Not even close. This is Fische's Cove, named for the first pirate to have the vapebrained idea of setting up a base here. It's where all the ships dock, unless you've got lots of creds and an in with Epsis, and you can afford to dock in one of the hangars. It's true, the cove takes up a large section of comet's interior, but this comet is a lot larger than it appears from space." He turned to her with an expression that was both anticipatory and apprehensive. "You haven't seen any of Point Nadir yet, Foyi."

His tone was confusing, and she cocked her head toward him, her tchin arcing slightly in an unspoken question. "Is that a good thing...or a bad thing?"

Rayf shrugged as the hangar dominated the viewpoints, the shimmering environmental fields clearly in view. "Give it a couple hours...you'll be able to answer that question for yourself."

"You mentioned a word I haven't heard before: Epsis. Who's that?"

"Epsis is a what, made up of whos, I suppose. It's one of the major players in Point Nadir here. Not unlike Nar Shaddaa, Point Nadir has no formal, recognized body of government, but some sense of law and order is maintained by the local crime syndicates. An offshoot of the Anjiliac Clan is in charge here, run by Zietta the Hutt; they run a lot of spice, contraband, and especially slaves through here. Next in power is Epsis, the organization I freelance for. They're a bunch of techno wizards, slicers, and black marketeers, focusing on experimental, proprietary, and military technologies. They're run by Liash Keane, an Ubese with a mean streak the size of Hutt Space if you get on her bad side, but not so bad to work for if you actually know what you're doing."

Foyi gave him a suspicious glare out of her peripheral vision. "What is it that you do for Epsis, exactly?"

"I've picked up some technical skills while keeping a low profile and living on the edge. Turns out that I'm not just good at flying ships or hitting people with sticks, but I have a natural affinity for slicing electronics and fixing droids and such. I've never given a direct commitment to Keane's organization, so I'm not exactly assigned any tasks that are too dangerous or important, but I'm tolerated here. It's why I'm allowed to dock in The Slips, which are this row of hangars ahead of us...assuming I pay all the fees and dues that come with getting the special treatment."

The Flamusfracta cruised into the confines of the hangar, this one in particular being large enough to house two starships of the same size, though not much else. The hangar was a brightly-lit space containing spare cargo cylinders, labor droids in recharge mode, and a floor crisscrossed with refueling hoses. Foyi felt a sense of vertigo as the starship tipped backward and settled on its rearmost section, completing the landing sequence, the rafters and catwalks near the ceiling hanging far above her head through the viewports. Both Rayf and Foyi unbuckled themselves from their seats and clambered down into the belly of the ship, heading for the door that would let them exit into the hangar. Foyi felt a strange, ill sensation spreading from her chest and down through her digestive system, as if the juice and nutrient bars she had consumed a few hours before were only now just spoiling in her stomach. She recognized the cold grip of fear and the ecstasy of excitement coagulating into a potent, poisonous mixture in her body. She felt a sudden certainty, a closeness, a familiarity she only felt when Tama's presence was nearby. Foyi paused before the door and tentatively dipped her hand into the limitless ocean that was the Force, feeling about for the residual current, the ripples having been left by the metaphysical passage of her sister. Desperate to catch a glimpse of her sister, to contact her Force presence again, to feel the familiar mental touch of her sister, to send her a message of reassurance and encouragement. But she drew back as the waters grew cold around her; there were dark shapes moving in the depths, and they had sensed her, perhaps had felt her presence long before she had registered theirs. She broke the surface in fear and desperation, and emerged into the waking world once more. Foyi blinked rapidly until her surroundings came into focus again, to find Rayf standing in front of her, his hands on her shoulders, his gaze locked with hers.

"Hey, you alright? I lost you there for a moment, but I could feel you reaching out through the Force...and then I felt your alarm. What happened?"

Foyi stepped back, shrugging Rayf's hands from her shoulders. "I...Tama is here, Rayf! Or, at least, she was...I can't be sure, my senses are so...clouded for some reason." She rubbed her temples as she massaged the headache that was beginning to manifest within her skull. "There are other things here, too. I mean, other Force-sensitives, tainted by the Dark Side. I...I think they saw—felt—me, but I don't think they found me."

Rayf's mouth was a thin, grim line as he considered her words. "That's what I was afraid of. I've always been very careful while here, because I too have felt sinister presences in the port. If we keep a low profile, we should be fine. But keep your senses sharp, and let me know if you get any other insights as to Tama's location or well-being. The bonds of family are strong, especially so in Force-sensitives, and your ability to hone in on her presence may be the ticket to actually finding her."

Foyi was about to argue, to retort with an angry jab that her senses were plenty acute and she could handle herself. She had to pause and recenter herself, allowing her to see clearly. Rayf had merely been concerned for her well-being and state of mind, so she reminded herself to give him a chance, to not be so hostile to her only ally. In the end, she merely nodded, and Rayf, with a last glance at her, opened the door and they stepped out into the hangar together.

They found a trio of Houks awaiting them at the bottom of the ramp, dressed in padded armor, blaster rifles and vibroblades on their backs, Anjiliac insignias emblazoned proudly upon their chest and shoulder armor. None of the Houks' expressions were inviting, and the middle one displayed a wide smile that was not even remotely pleasant. Foyi's hand began to reach for one of her weapons, but Rayf greeted the trio with a wide grin of his own. "Tornu! How's my favorite extortionist in the whole wide comet?"

The Houk with the toothy grin let his smile slip a little, obviously annoyed. "Moors, it's been awhile. But when I heard you were coming in again, I thought I'd swing by and reacquaint myself with your ugly mug." His gaze shifted to the side, then narrowed. "Don't remember you traveling with company. Who's this then?"

Before Foyi could answer, Rayf threw a startling arm around her shoulders and hugged her close. "Tornu, this is my cousin, Oola! She helped me out in one of my last jobs, so I figured I would show her how far you really have to go to get a decent drink in this galaxy."

One of the other Houks snorted, and Tornu's grin returned, although it was merely a component of his disbelieving expression now. "Cousin? Really?"

Foyi gave Rayf a dubious glare, but he was still focusing on Tornu. "Yeah! Distantly related! One or two-" Rayf glanced down at Foyi. "-species removed. Give or take. Real handful most of the time."

Tornu's grin turned malicious. "You know, you get tired of babysitting her, we could always take her off your hands. As they say, 'what's a Twi'lek amongst friends', right?"

Foyi took a threatening step forward, but Rayf's grip on her shoulders tightened, halting her. "Well, I appreciate that, Tornu, I really do. But I think I'll keep an eye on her for now. May aunt would have my asteroids for dinner if I let anything happen to Lil' Oola here, and I know you don't know my aunt, but she could tear the arms off a gundark. No joke."

Tornu gave a humorless chuckle. "If you say so, Moors. Now, as fun as it is listening to your ceaseless lies again, you know what I'm here for."

Rayf sighed, but he kept a smile plastered to his face as he withdrew his credit chip. "Yeah yeah, I know. So what do I owe ya?"

"You got any cargo?"

Rayf shook his head. "Nope."

"Your 'cousin' counts as cargo, so that'll be extra. You here on a job?"

Rayf gave him a disgruntled glare. "You know I'm not going to answer that either way."

Tornu sneered. "I'll take that as a yes, then. How long you staying?"

"As long as I need to."

Tornu was calculating now, counting on a few of his stubby fingers. "Okay...then that'll be two hundred credits."

Foyi's jaw dropped, but Rayf was already handing over his credit chip. Tornu plugged the chip into a datapad, scrolled through a few options onscreen, then handed the chip back to Rayf. His grin grew wider, and he gave Rayf a mock, sadistic grin. "Pleasure doing business with you, Moors. Welcome once again to Point Nadir. I hope you and your 'cousin' enjoy your stay."

Rayf tucked the credit chip away, a wide grin on his smile. "And I hope you and your goons meet a friendly Nadir spider." Foyi did not know what a Nadir spider was, but she knew by the human's insincere tone that his response had not been meant positively. For their part, the Houks merely turned around and left, laughing amongst themselves, perfectly happy with the money they had deprived Rayf of.

Foyi waited until they had left the large, echoing hangar, then turned to Rayf. "Why did you just let them walk away with so much money?"

Rayf merely shook his head in exasperation. "Those nerfherders work for Zietta the Hutt, and thus have all the power of the Anjiliac kajidic in this shadowport behind them. They make rounds to all the berths and hangars, collecting 'docking fees' from those who visit, even semi-regulars, like me. You don't want a fatal meeting with Zietta, you let yourself get extorted, simple as that. Welcome to Point Nadir, by the way."

Foyi stared at the exit from the hangar, as if she could burn holes through the unseen backs of the Houks by sight alone. "So...we're cousins?"

Rayf shrugged. "Honestly, if I'd told them you were my slave, or girlfriend, or bunk-buddy, they probably would have believed that more readily. However, that would have probably made you hit me, and I did not feel like getting hit today. So yeah, now we're cousins."

Foyi let an exasperated sigh escape her lips. "Fine. We're cousins." She walked to the bottom of the ramp, taking a large inhalation of the stale, artificial atmosphere, coughing as she took in the acrid scents of chemicals, spilled coolant and fuel, sweat, overly-filtered oxygen, and a musky, mouldering odor she did not recognize. She was also surprised that the gravity was not considerably lower than what she had experienced on Yanibar and Nar Shaddaa, though she could not deny a small lightness in her chest and a minute spring to her step. Her footsteps rang in a dull echo in the empty hangar, and she felt the sound had a forlorn quality to it.

Rayf strode down the ramp as well, his boots clanking loudly on the metal deck, as if he were perfectly fine disturbing the solemnity of the otherwise empty hangar. "So...", he began. "What's our next move?"

"We have to locate Tama. When I reached out with the Force, I felt her presence, but I wasn't able to pinpoint her exact whereabouts. I'd like to try again..."

"...except for the other Force-sensitives who may or may not be friendly," Rayf finished. "Yeah, alerting them probably isn't the smartest first move. So we'll need some more tangible clues to follow."

Foyi nodded. "Exactly. So I thought I could try and find out where the Anjiliac sleemos who took her are."

"Well, Zietta and her Anjiliac goons are all over this station. So, we'll need names or some sort of identifying characteristics to track them down. Do you know what ship they were flying here?"

Foyi shook her head. "I don't know the name of the ship. But I would never forget what it looks like." She had made certain to commit every detail she had seen of the L4000 transport, embedding the memory of the ship and her sister's capture deep within her lekku.

Rayf was thinking over her words, his eyes lighting up as he considered several ideas. "Do you think you'd be able to identify the ship through security footage, or a holorecording, or something like that?"

She faced him, already impatient to learn what ideas he might have. "I'm certain of it. What do you know?"

He gave her a rakish grin. "It's not what you know, Foyi, it's who you know. Come on...there's a guy who owes me a favor who just so happens to be in charge of a lot of security measures here in the Slips. If the people who kidnapped Tama docked their ship here, which I would bet a gizka's ass they did, then there's a record of it. Just let me do all the smooth talking, and we'll soon know the names and captains of every single ship in the hangars here." He then strode across the deck to the exit, practically skipping in anticipation, or possibly due to the lighter gravity, and Foyi followed him, eagerness and urgency twisting together in her chest.

The exit from the hangar opened into a series of cramped tunnels and thin thoroughfares haphazardly dug through the rough interior of the comet. Dim lights flickered on and off due to the fickle nature of the electrical systems that supplied them with power, while the occasional lamp cast shifting, eerie shadows. There were other beings passing through the tunnels, shoving past the pair with barely a glance and the occasional uttered curse or demand to make way. There were enough travelers moving to and from the hangars known as the Slips that there were points in the thoroughfares where Foyi found herself literally shoulder to shoulder with Houks, Nikto, humans, Mon Calamari, and even a fearsome Anzati. It was a confusing jumble of shapes, voices, sights, and smells as they walked briskly through tunnel after tunnel, turning corners and following switchbacks, until Foyi felt dizzy just trying to remember the way back to their hangar. It was only moments later that she realized she had completely lost her bearings, so she kept Rayf's muscled back in sight, making certain it did not disappear into the morass of moving bodies. They came to a section of tunnel where the expanse between the enclosing walls widened, and she began to see multiple doorways, some open, others closed, leading into other caverns, tunnels, and what appeared to be shops, judging by the flashing signs and "windows" that surrounded these particular entrances. The crowds were thicker in this section of the comet's innards, and ahead, she saw freestanding edifices that were not simply carved into the rock and ore. Rayf maneuvered around a trio of Devaronian males whose facial features suggested common ancestry, then angled his approach for a building near the end of the thoroughfare running adjacent to the Slips. It was a low, squat establishment of stone and metal, its entrances sealed by blast doors and watched by sensors and holocams. A single guard stood outside the door, an armored Ubese with a DC-17m Interchangeable Weapon System, a threatening piece of tech from the Clone Wars. Rayf strode up to the Ubese as if he was meant to be there and exchanged a few words in a low tone, the Ubese responding in clipped, digitized phrases. A moment later, the main entrance slid up and out of sight, and Rayf beckoned Foyi into a stark, spartan lobby. A protocol droid with silvery, rusting frame greeted and beckoned them through the small lobby and down a claustrophobic hallway to another door at the end, which opened up into a small, dimly-lit office. The room contained a desk, a staggering amount of computer equipment and screens that were turned away from Rayf and Foyi's sight, and a pair of chairs that were little more than metal frames shoddily welded together. Behind the desk, regarding them with an expression that was truly unreadable, was a male Duros, his crimson eyes glowing slightly in the poor illumination. He was dressed in a dark, neatly-tailored suit jacket over a maroon shirt, and his thin, green fingers were steepled before his chin. As Rayf entered the room, his brow rose slightly over his left eye, but upon seeing Foyi, his gaze narrowed, perhaps in suspicion.

Foyi stood in the doorway, unsure what to do, but Rayf flopped into one of the extremely uncomfortable chair and propped his boots on the Duros' desk, causing his glare to change to anger and shift to the human male. "Puzell! How's my favorite Duros in the sector?"

Puzell's reply was dry, soft, and concise. "I believe I'm the only Duros you know in this sector, Moors."

"And that's why you're my favorite! There's no competition to compare you to!"

Puzell's fingers unraveled from their interlocked state, and he placed his palms flat on his desk. "My time is very valuable, Moors. Do not make me regret choosing to see you. Either tell me what it is you think you need, or be on your way."

"We need you to help us find a ship we're looking for," Foyi interjected, refusing to be ignored by this Puzell character.

Puzell's gaze slid slowly and inexorably to her, as if he were dragging his eyeballs across his inner lids. "And you are?"

"My cousin," Rayf answered for her with a jovial air. "See, my cousin and I are looking for a certain ship we lost track of back on Nar Shaddaa...or possibly Yanibar...it's all a little confusing, so I'll spare you most of the unnecessary details-"

Puzell raised a hand, his gaze flicking back and forth between Foyi and Rayf. "I'm going to stop you there, Moors. I'm an underboss for Epsis. I have more responsibilities than your inattentive mind can comprehend, but fulfilling the roles of information broker or starship salesman is not amongst those."

Rayf nodded, conceding the point. "True. But one of your responsibilities is monitoring all starship traffic in and out of the slips, and keeping a copy of the logs and docking information archived at Traffic Control, just in case Epsis needs to know exactly who's in Nadir at any given time. That is on the list, right?"

Puzell was actively scowling now. Foyi could feel his rising ire like a hot splash of liquid across the tips of her lekku. "On my list, yes, but that is no concern of yours, especially considering you're merely a freelancer for us on an occasional basis. If you actually committed to working with Epsis, you might be able to pull a little more weight around here. But you haven't, so you don't. I'm not letting you into the security footage or the docking records, Moors. I don't care what you need them for, it's not going to happen."

Foyi stepped closer to the desk, until she loomed over the Duros. She had dipped into the deep, black, frigid waters again, the Dark Side rising and churning within her. Images of Lido suffering and dying beneath her fists swam into the forefront of her mind, but she feared them no longer. Instead, she relished the memories, steeped herself in them, allowing herself to bathe in the unnatural but not wholly unwelcome bloodlust. Her fists clenched at her side, and she opened her mouth to speak, but Rayf's hand had reached out, his fingers contacting her wrist with a gentle brush. She could feel warmer, more soothing waters suffusing her form. Rayf was attempting to calm her, to grant her peace and halt any rash actions she might take.

Puzell, for his part, was not Force-sensitive, so he only saw an angry Twi'lek glowering at him, and not only was he not the least bit intimidated, but he was profoundly unimpressed. His scowl met Foyi's regard, then shifted to Rayf beside her. "This is your muscle, Moors? This is what you think'll get me to help you out with something you know I refuse to do? You're more pathetic than I remember, Moors."

Rayf's grin did not leave his face, neither did the teasing mirth leave his voice. "Well, I'm about to get a lot more pathetic, 'cause I'm calling in that favor you owe me."

Puzell's face blanched, and the Duros elicited a lengthy groan. "You're not serious."

"Deadly. You owe me, and I'm collecting. All we need is some footage and some names, and we'll be on our way."

Puzell glared at him, then sullenly turned to his terminal and began tapping away at the keys. He swung around in his chair, his emerald index finger stabbing at Rayf sharply. "Fine. I'll do this for you and your 'cousin', Rayf, but after this, I owe you nothing. You hear me? We're square."

Rayf gave him an innocent grin. "Of course, Puzell. I wouldn't have it any other way."

The Duros turned to his terminal again, and he replied without facing them. "What ship are you looking for?"

Foyi replied without hesitation. "It's a Maka-Eekai L4000 Transport with Anjiliac markings. Looks like it's seen a lot of action. Its crew consisted of Houks, Nikto, and Weequay mostly, and its cargo was at least one slave. A Twi'lek female, fourteen years of age."

If Puzell was perturbed by the fact that there were slavers' ships moving in and out of Point Nadir, he did not show it. He scrolled through several options and menus on his screen, then turned the screen so that Foyi and Rayf could see. They were looking at different log entries and clips of security footage from the holocams established in every single hangar in the Slips. He scrolled down, then highlighted one section of footage, which maximized the screen, and showed a somewhat grainy, muted recording of a L4000 Transport sliding into a hangar bay not unlike the one that Ray had landed The Flamusfracta in, though this one was considerably larger, and housed more than one vessel the Transport's size. As they watched, the starship's boarding ramp lowered and disgorged several Weequay, Houks, and Nikto, as well as a small host of members of other species bound in a chain of connected manacles and stun collars. Foyi leaned over the desk until her nose was within centimeters of the screen. The feed was full of static and heavily pixellated, but she was certain that one of the prisoners was a Twi'lek female, and judging by her build and height, one who had not reached maturity yet. Her eyes scanned the rest of the feed, taking in the ship and what she could make out of its crewmates. She took a step back, finding it difficult to breathe, but somehow keeping her voice steady. "That's it. That's the ship we're looking for."

Puzell seemed bored with the development, or at least apathetic. He maneuvered the cursor to another section of the screen, selected an option from a menu, and a list of numbers and letters appeared, chronicling a complex set of docking registration information. When he spoke, he did so in a flat monotone. "The ship's name is the Nexu's Grin, registered under a Captain...Ak-Vir Vri." He glanced at both Rayf and Foyi, and the green shade of his cheeks had gone a tad gray. "You do realize who Vri is, right? He's one of Zietta's top slavers and slavehunters."

"Is he and his crew still here?" came Foyi's snappy reply, unconcerned with who the bastard that stole her sister was or who he was connected to. "Where'd they take the slaves?"

Puzell exited the menus he had selected and turned to face her, his expression brooking no argument to his next statement. "In answer to your first question, yes, they are still here. And in answer to your second, I've no idea, nor is it any of my business. I've already given you two far more than I should have, and I'm not going to dig any deeper into the Anjiliacs' dealings. You two want to poke the Hutt, be my guest, but don't drag me down into your lunacy."

Rayf stood, straightening his tunic as he did so. "Well, you've been a great help, Puzell. We'll be certain to come back to you if we need any more assistance, okay?"

Puzell pointed a stern finger at the door. "I don't owe you anything anymore, Moors. Get out of my office."

As Rayf and Foyi left the Epsis command center, Foyi's entire frame was practically vibrating with tension and excitement. She walked past the Ubese guarding the door without even registering his—or hers, she could never tell—presence, her eyes snapping back and forth, as if she would see Tama being led down the wide tunnel she was in before her eyes. The resolution on the security holo had been horribly grainy and indistinct, but she had definitely seen Twi'leks amongst the chain of slaves led off the ship she now knew to be the Nexu's Grin, and one of them had matched Tama's exact build and gait. It had to be her. She was here, perhaps not far away. All she had to do was find her, save her, take her home.

A dark thought swam up to her conscious mind, adding an action to her impromptu mental list, one that was not entirely unwelcome. And make Ak-vir Vri and his thugs pay. Make all the Anjiliacs pay.

She was even now contemplating the thought of her discblade entering the Weequay captain's forehead when Rayf came to her side, running an uncertain hand through his thinning hair. She snapped out of her cold reverie and thoughts of bloody vengeance, and refocused on where she was, the goal before her: her sister's location and safety. Rayf had a sly grin on his face, though it did not quite reach his eyes, which evoked more than a modicum of worry. "Well, Puzell was even more helpful than I thought he would be. I didn't even expect to get that much out of him, despite what he owed me."

"What did he owe you?"

"Oh, just his life. I saved him from getting shot under the table at Under The Table."

Foyi wrinkled her brow, running his words through her mind again to make certain she had actually heard what it had sounded like. "Wait, what?"

"Under The Table. It's one of the bars in Point Nadir. Kind of a reference to the three most common things that occur under tables at that establishment. Drinking oneself under the table, making illicit dealings, and getting shot under the table, in no particular order or priority, mind you. I made sure someone who thought it a good idea to murder an Epsis underboss did not get the chance, and Puzell owed me for that...until today. Which means if we end up needing any more help while we're here, he'd probably space us before getting involved anymore than he already is. So...we're on our own from here."

"Then let's find Tama."

"How? Can you still sense her?"

Foyi concentrated for a moment, her mind seemingly leaving her body as she tentatively expanded her consciousness into the jumbled sea of sensation and feeling. After a moment, she shook her head. "I...I can't get a fix on her. I can feel her presence, but as if from far away, more like an...echo, rather than a voice. Does that make sense?"

Rayf nodded. "Most beings leave some sort of impression in the Force no matter where they go, whether they are currently in that spot or not. It could be...that she's no longer in Nadir..."

Foyi cursed under her breath. She cast a hopeful glance up at Rayf. "Could she be locked up somewhere? Maybe held wherever the slave market in this comet is?"

Rayf shrugged. "Or she could be in the hold of some starship already halfway across the galaxy." Foyi's expression became a grimace of anger and despair, but Rayf continued. "But you know who would know?"

Foyi's fingers curled into fists so tight, her trimmed fingernails cut small, bloody grooves into her palm. "Ak-vir Vri."

"Exactly. Puzell said Vri and his crew were still here, which means they either didn't land very long ago, or don't have any immediate concerns with which to occupy themselves. And in my opinion, ship crews that are in port and listless typically spend most of their time around the cantinas."

"Then let's check every cantina in this lousy ball of dirt and knock heads until someone tells us how to find Ak-vir Vri."

Rayf could not suppress a grin. He realized, probably more so than Foyi did, that going from bar to bar roughing up anyone and everyone was not a particularly efficient or safe way of gaining information. But considering the majority of those beings likely to be in these cantinas were slavers, mercenaries, murderers, rapists, and all manner of other lowlifes, he would not have any hard feelings putting a scare or two into them. His hand unconsciously slid closer to the pieces of his wan-shen on his belt, and he said, "Let's go find us a Weequay sleemo then."