Chapter 17

Foyi awoke with a start, nearly falling out of the seat she had slumped in response to a cacophonous bang that startled her from her slumber. She blinked sleep from bleary eyes to see Rayf standing before the dejarik table she had propped her heels upon, pouring a dark liquid from a carafe into a pair of cups on a tray. It was the tray that he had slapped against the dejarik table's surface, purposefully creating a noise loud enough to rouse her. Steam rose in billowing clouds from the cups, trailing after his movements as he offered one of the cups to her, still displaying that wry grin on his face. Foyi took it with detached and automatic responses, briefly sniffing the aroma wafting from the cup, which was already making her more aware by its smell alone. It was a large mug of caf, and she felt her stomach growling in anticipation as a response to the aroma.

Rayf set a few more containers on the tray with more caution and less noise, then peered at her. "I'm sure you could use some more sleep, though I figured you would prefer to get moving and doing something that might get us closer to your sister, so I figured a nice cup of caf would keep you starry-eyed. Do you take cream or sugar with yours?"

Foyi did not respond as she brought the mug to her lips and consumed the entirety of its contents, the liquid hot enough to bring out sweat on her forehead, but not so hot that she scalded her tongue or the back of her throat. Rayf's grin fell as he watched her drink the entire cup, then place it back on the table, silently bidding him to pour more. She absentmindedly licked her lips and replied in a sleep-slurred voice, "Both would be nice." She sighed in contentment, rubbing her eyes in an attempt to awaken further. She had only meant to sit down and rest, take a few minutes to recenter herself, collect her thoughts, perhaps even spend a little time in meditation. Falling asleep had been an unintentional consequence of the injuries, pain, and stress of the last week or so; she could not remember the last time she had even truly slept, and a part of her lamented that she had to refrain from further lapses of judgment, as neither she nor Tama had the time for such a luxury. "I don't remember the last time I had a decent cup of caf. Yanibar isn't resplendent with niceties and nonessentials..."

Rayf poured more caf into her cup, then began spooning cream and sugar into its dark depths, looking at her for confirmation on when he might stop, but when she said nothing, he shrugged and stopped when the liquid within had become so pale it was nearly white. Foyi accepted the new cup with a grateful twitch of her lekku, remembered that Rayf probably could not read such nonverbal communication, and gasped, "Thanks," between gulps of caf.

Rayf watched her with a mixture of concern and interest, slowly stirring in a minute amount of cream in his own caf, then taking a small sip, enjoying the comforting heat and delicious taste of the liquid. They were both in the main hold of the Flamusfracta, having shed the vacsuits they had arrived in after Rayf had retrieved his credit chip and paid the Rodian taxi pilot for delivering them back to the docking bay in which Rayf's ship was housed. They had taken refuge in the ship, more to enjoy breathing somewhat clean air again and collect their thoughts than anything else, not bothering with peeling off the sweat-soaked layers of clothes they still wore. The blaster rifle Rayf had stolen from one of Vri or Sura's goons had been discarded on one of the seats in the room, while Foyi's disruptor rifle leaned against the dejarik table where she had placed it with respect, due to the volatile and astounding nature of the weapon. She had managed to peel off most of her Zeison Sha armor, though she had to admit she felt less protected, almost naked, without it, and her hands itched to feel the familiar curves, edges, and weight of her discblade. While she was not particularly comfortable slumping in the seat in her sweat-stained garments, she was simply too tired to care, grateful to have survived yet another near catastrophe in a long line of such occurrences since she had set out from Yanibar to rescue her sister.

"Foyi, would you like to take that caf intravenously? Or maybe I can soak a bacta patch with caf and just plaster a few of those on your back?"

Foyi took a moment to breathe from her fervent attempts to inhale the caf that had been given her. She thought about humoring him with a chuckle, but was too tired to even manage that. "Perhaps both. It would certainly be more efficient; we have to keep moving. We have a fraction of a lead on Tama's location, but we need to act on it soon, else this turns into another wild bantha chase, or someone else captures us for some random and nefarious purpose."

Rayf sighed in exasperation. "What we need to do is take a breather, Foyi. I'll be the first to admit that even I need to regain my breath after choking on carbon dioxide-saturated filters for the past few hours, and I know you need it too, no matter how much you're trying to convince me you're ready for lightspeed again."

Foyi gave him a glare, but could not hold onto her ire. He was correct, as usual, though she felt she had no choice but to continue at breakneck pace. Tama was counting on her. She finished the rest of her caf in a single gulp, then leapt to her feet to begin determined, revolving pacing about her chair and the gameboard. "You're right...we could use a breather. But Tama isn't getting a breather, and I doubt whoever the kriff this 'Shepherd' is isn't taking one either. We need to get to Yuelo, and find out whatever he knows about the Shepherd and whatever sick child slavery racket the two of them are running."

Rayf set his caf down and folded his arms, not removing himself from his seat. "And how do you propose we get Yuelo to cough up any information on one of his business partners?"

Foyi threw her hands up in the air in a helpless gesture. "I'm open to suggestions; you're the one who has more experience with Hutts and the kajidics."

Rayf gave her a dubious glance. "I'm not sure whether I should take that as an acknowledgment of my superior experience, or an insult."

Foyi ignored his consternation, continuing with a flurry of ideas. "Can we make a deal with him? Even talk to him?"

Rayf snorted. "Not likely. After causing all that ruckus in his pub, he's more likely to flay us alive and make a nice scarf out of your headtails than sit down and have a civilized conversation with us. As far as a deal, anything we offer would probably require a cargo hold's worth of credits we don't have, and maybe an eye or a couple fingers, if he's feeling particularly lenient. Contrary to popular belief, Hutts don't just backstab all their partners in crime and business unless they have far greater incentive to do so, and even then, they're going to be considering all the angles before they act. We would need to offer him a deal he just can't refuse if we want to take that route."

Foyi put her chin in hand, considering his words, wracking her brain for ideas of how to get the required information from Yuelo's grasp. She had little in the way of credits or material possessions, and though Rayf seemed better off in these areas than she, she had seen nothing to indicate that he was swimming in material goods and affluent wealth. She paced back and forth, her eyes falling upon the disruptor rifle and the blaster she had Rayf had acquired from their captors, weapons they had been forced to procure as temporary replacements for their preferred weapons. And as she stared at the rifles, a sudden memory surfaced in the forefront of her stimulated mind, and she snapped her fingers in excitement. "Did Sura ever reactivate the security system on his warehouse before we all left for the Mines?"

Rayf considered the question for a moment, reviewing his own memory. "I'm not sure," he mused. "I wasn't really paying attention; I was a little busy trying not to bang my head on the doorway as those mercs shoved me in that repulsortruck. Not to mention falling off shelves and tangling with pit droids." He scrutinized her, uncertain of how her question pertained to the conundrum at hand. "What're you thinking?"

"Sura had a fairly sizable warehouse; you think he had anything of value in there?"

Rayf reviewed his memories again. "Well, what I saw was mostly junk, spare parts, and slag, but I wasn't exactly auditing the place. I suppose there was probably plenty of valuables in all those sealed crates and cargo cylinders." A sly smile curved his lips. "Though there might have been enough there for an enterprising Hutt like our good friend Yuelo to fix his bar and turn a profit besides."

Foyi grinned as he caught onto the plan she was proposing. "Assuming our 'good friend' is willing to talk to us, he might be interested in a warehouse no one's around to reclaim. Especially one that contains databanks on everything Vri and Sura collected on finding Fische's Legacy. Not only would he get all that salvage and product stored there, but his thugs might be the ones to actually find the treasure, what with the headstart Sura and Vri granted them. And I doubt that Yuelo would be pleased to learn one of his chief lieutenants had his own quick score scheme on the side without cutting him into the expedition's potential profits. Assuming, of course, he's willing to talk to us."

Rayf scratched the stiff hairs adorning his chin and jaw with a grin. "He may want to feed us to vornskrs, but I've never heard of a Hutt who would turn down the prospect of free profit over a grudge."

"Will it be enough, though? Would Yuelo sell out the Shepherd for a warehouse full of parts and the promise of treasure that may or may not exist?"

Rayf shrugged. "We won't know until we try, at least. Assuming we can get past the turrets and security systems that may or may not be armed."

"The security systems that we bypassed last time with relative ease," came Foyi's response. "If nothing else, I heard someone has some technical aptitude who I'm certain has been itching to show off ever since he told me about it."

Rayf gave a self-conscious grin, then took a lengthy swig of his caf. Then he stood, stretching his sore and tired muscles. "Well, I would like to get my wan-shen back, if I could."

"You mean that stick you take out your failed Jedi frustrations on people's skulls with?"

"Says the girl who lobs a glorified datadisk at those who anger her."

Foyi grinned in mock hostility, also levering herself out of the seat with a lengthy stretch. "Perhaps you shouldn't anger me, then, hm?"

"I'll take that under advisement when we retrieve our respective 'sticks' and 'datadisks'."

Rayf and Foyi moved through the streets, alleys, and passages of the Trade District with quick and stealthy movements, though few passerby actually paid attention to the human and Twi'lek as they passed between storefronts and narrow alleys. Foyi found this fortuitous, signifying that as of yet, she and Rayf had not angered anyone powerful enough to place an alert or bounty upon their heads that would prevent them from showing their faces in public without taking a blaster bolt to those same visages. Rayf remarked in a low tone that this probably meant that Vri and Sura's expedition had gone unnoticed by Zietta and the ruling Anjiliac Clan, who were the ones that had placed the ban on entering the Mines in the first place, and would have set much of Point Nadir into an uproar if the Hutt found out such a large party of treasure hunters had violated her decrees. Particularly considering one of the primary orchestrators of the aforementioned scheme officially worked for the Anjiliac kajidic; Rayf further expounded that even if Vri, Sura, or some of their men had survived the Nadir spiders and found their way back through the winding maze that was the Mines, they would probably be laying low for awhile, or even looking to get off Resh 9376 as soon as possible. Thus, he surmised it was unlikely the pair would have to deal with Vri, Sura, or their ilk anytime in the near future.

Foyi took little comfort from his hypothesis, for this was all it truly was. Rayf knew the composition of the situation they would be walking into more than she did. She was merely grateful to see that what few groups of Anjiliac thugs were wandering the streets did not appear to be looking for them, and there were none of the dark combat armor and green cloaks of the Sable Dawn anywhere in sight. Not that that gave her any sense of security, as the pair of assassins that had stunned her and Rayf had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, despite the Force sensitivity of their quarry. Such thoughts let a deep sense of paranoia settle into her consciousness, and she could not help but keep her head swiveling atop her neck, her eyes and Force senses probing every shadow, dim corner, and being they passed, no matter how innocuous they appeared.

Having found Sura's warehouse with the help of Xan's map beforehand, the pair retraced the route from memory, until they found the same squat building of permacrete and durasteel, autoturrets hanging and swiveling from the overhang about its roof. Carbon scoring and black marks spattered the stone floor around the warehouse, the evidence of Foyi's diversion and the inherent excitability of Sura's security system displayed across the ground, garbage littered about the warehouse, and blaster scars across nearby buildings. The lights along the curved outer chassis of each automated heavy blaster were blinking red, signifying the autoturrets were active and searching for targets who dared to violate the sanctity of that which they protected. The heavy blast doors that were the only apparent ground entrance to the building were sealed tight, though Foyi could not see any other security measures from this angle. She crouched beside Rayf and concentrated, reaching out with her feelings, her perceptions beyond her own body, and let herself sink into the cool, undulating waters of the Force, barely breaking the surface, stretching out just enough to sense other presences past the doors of Sura's warehouse. She sent a probing tendril forth, careful to keep it narrow and focused, so as not to alert the questing senses of the Sable Dawn or any other hostile Force-sensitives that may be on this rock. Belatedly, she realized that Point Nadir may actually be a place for Force-users such as herself, her sister, and other Zeison Sha to escape the notice of the Empire.

Foyi refocused her thoughts, concentrated, and sent the current of Force energy past the building's walls, imagining what the interior of the sizable warehouse must look like, dredging up a mental map from what she remembered when she had been in there. She felt no sentient presences, no matter how hard she concentrated, though there were a few small lights of consciousness floating on the very surface of the sea that was the Force, belonging to the primal instincts and sensations of animals. One seemed vaguely familiar, and she wondered if it belonged to the gizka that had caused them so much trouble when they had originally sneaked into the warehouse's interior, but beyond that, she felt no lingering malice or hostility within the edifice. It was empty for now, and perhaps would remain so as long as she and Rayf wished to use it, as long as Sho Sura and his Ganks had been unsuccessful in navigating the tunnels of the Mines or avoiding the acid-spitting monsters lurking in the depths of the asteroid.

Foyi withdrew into herself again, then turned to Rayf, who similarly seemed to be regaining present awareness, having been immersing himself in the Force for similar purposes as Foyi's exterior analysis. He bit his bottom lip in thought as he stared at the threatening autoturrets. "As far as I can tell, there's no one home."

"Except for your gizka friend," Foyi replied with some confidence.

Rayf grimaced at that. "That little sleemo better steer clear of me if he knows what's good for him..."

"Assuming we can get back inside."

Rayf nodded, scratching absentmindedly at the hairs on his chin. "That's the problem. I don't think we should try the tactic we did last time; we're likely to get a bunch of passerby killed, and would cause undue attention to the warehouse when it would be better that we get back in as quietly as possible."

Foyi considered the problem, her eyes roving over the contours of the building, its sharp corners and foreboding lines bristling with the implied threat of the autoturrets' cannons; there were only a pair of the machines for each side of the building, but their range of motion was wide enough so as to cover each other's sweeping movements, so that anyone approaching the edifice would be caught in a crossfire between two turrets at minimum. Her tchun curled about her neck in a calming gesture, as if the appendage was trying to grant her comfort for the difficulties ahead. She could feel Rayf's eyes on her, studying her contemplative expression and awaiting an idea on how to proceed. Foyi ignored his regard and let herself become submerged with the Force, its waters swirling down around her and through her, suffusing her body with supernatural power simply waiting to be harnessed and unleashed. Her eyes snapped open, and she sprang free of the alley in which they were hiding, emerging from the shadows in a sprint that was augmented by the Force, so that an observer would likely only see her as a momentary blur of indistinguishable and amorphous form. The warehouses and soaring cavern walls of the Trade District stretched into indistinct lines around her as Sura's warehouse was suddenly only meters away, and then less than a meter, the blast doors appearing to jump toward her and meet her charge with unyielding durasteel. But she did not run straight into the blast doors, gathering the Force about her, shunting its limitless power to her legs and feet as she used her increased speed to provide momentum for her leap to the warehouse's roof. The Force-augmented jump sent her airborne, and for the briefest of moments, she hung in midair, the roofs of stores and warehouses stretching out around and beneath her in a convocation of architecture amongst the pressing weight of the jagged ceiling above. And then the toes of her boots struck the flat surface of the roof, and she tucked her body into a roll that fetched her up against one of the air circulation modules protruding like metallic tumors from the warehouse's roof with a noise loud enough to make her cringe. She scrambled to her knees and palms, gasping for air, quivering from the exertion of calling so deeply upon the Force in her already exhausted state. She scrambled to her feet, then crept to the edge of the roof, gazing across the street at Rayf, who was still crouching within the alley and trying determinedly to keep an impressed expression off his face. She then peered over the lip describing the perimeter of the warehouse's roof, her lekku dangling to either side of her head, and could just barely see the tips of the autoturrets' barrels languidly swinging back and forth; she could hear an incensed beeping noise from them as their alert status had been increased, undoubtedly from the brief glimpse of movement their sensors had been able to pick up from her Force sprint, but seeing no active targets, had yet to fire.

Foyi looked back to Rayf, who seemed as though he was readying himself to attempt something similar, but he halted when she sent a tendril of warning through the Force, the briefest brush of minds that advised him to remain still for a moment. The autoturrets had not fired yet, and neither had they locked onto any potential foes, but they were in a heightened state of awareness.. Foyi could feel Rayf's eyes on her, expectant and bewildered, but she did not meet his gaze, instead closing her own eyes and concentrating again. She drew deeply of the waters of the Force, as if slaking her thirst after far too long in the Yanibarran summer sun, and stretched out with her hands, the physical representation of her mind reaching through the Force. She felt Rayf's presence almost immediately, but focused not on his mind or spiritual essence, but rather on his material form, becoming intimately familiar with it, knowing almost every rumple of clothing, nearly every hair and imperfection of his skin. Rayf could feel her probing presence, and responded with further confusion she could feel on the surface of her subconscious; she ignored his uncertainty, looking past him and continuing to scrutinize his physicality. She imagined him to be just another object in the environment, and she studied the ripples his body made in the Force by merely existing, how those ripples interacted and connected with the stone beneath his feet, the buildings between which he crouched, the enormity of Resh 9376 itself. Then, feeling confident she understood where and how Rayf was in relation to the rest of the asteroid and to her, her hands clenched into fists and the air between them warped and shuddered as the Force was brought to bear. She opened her eyes in time to see Rayf, his face twisted in abject surprise, suddenly flying through the air toward her, moving so quickly via the pulling power of the Force that her eyes perceived him only as a vaguely humanoid smudge whipping through the air. Little more than a second later, Rayf came flying bodily past her, where he tumbled across the warehouse's roof until he slowed his momentum with flailing limbs, eliciting a hasty curse as he tried to slow himself enough to get back to his feet and retain some measure of dignity. Foyi let out the breath she had been holding without knowing she had and gave a great, shuddering gasp, letting her mind divorce itself of the exhaustive and heady power of the Force in order to regain some of her physical energy. She slumped back on the roof, heaving and gasping as lethargy and overextension settled into her body; being a Zeison Sha Warrior, her command of the telekinetic aspects of the Force was impeccable, but it was still tiring to call upon the Force so completely and in so many overt means with such frequency.

Rayf walked up to her, then dropped into a crouch. His breathing was slightly erratic as he attempted to still his body's natural reaction to a sudden and frightening situation. He grinned down at her prone form, admiration evident in his gaze. "Okay. I'm sufficiently impressed now, Foyi. You don't have to keep showing off for my benefit."

Foyi groaned as she sat up, rubbing her aching muscles and squinting through the haze of exhaustion placed upon her by events and the overwhelming nature of the Force. She bent forward, peering between her knees and craning her neck to see past the roof's overhang, to see the tips of the autoturrets' blasters still swinging back and forth. She could hear the furious beeping they made in their alerted state, as if the machines somehow knew that there were intruders sneaking past their guard, but had neither the range of motion nor the sensors to find them. Foyi pushed off the roof's flat surface and into a crouch, looking over her shoulder at Rayf with a dubious expression. "You know, Rayf, the whole galaxy doesn't revolve around you."

Rayf looked around at all the rooftops, the people walking through alleys and along streets, the landspeeders zipping through the streets carrying passengers, cargo, or both. He glanced over the edge of the roof, then replied with a grin, "From here, it certainly looks like it does."

Foyi groaned in consternation as she crept toward the same ventilation access she and Rayf had used to sneak into Sura's warehouse the last time. "If you're going to talk so incessantly, perhaps you could show a little gratitude for not getting vaped, laserbrain."

As she opened the vent access, Rayf sidled up beside her, the grin still plastered to his face. "Thanks for bodily throwing me through the air across the field of fire of twitchy autoturrets without warning me first, sweetheart. I greatly appreciate being dumped on my ass by the Force without my consent. I now owe you a lifedebt, and will follow you for the rest of your days."

"Oh stars, spare me," Foyi retorted as the vent panel opened with a tinny squeal of metal. She clambered inside before Rayf could say something more infuriating or sarcastic, and the Matukai followed shortly after. The pair quickly scrambled through the claustrophobic ventilation passages, passing intersections and winding around corners until they found the grating on the floor of the tunnel that they had used previously, dropping onto the top of the tall shelving they had used as an observation perch when first entering Sura's warehouse. Little had been disturbed since they had been taken away from the warehouse, with several crates, starship and droid parts, and parcels of unknown materials scattered over the area where Rayf had fallen after his unfortunate encounter with the gizka. Amidst this pile sat the deactivated DUM-series pit droid, having been retracted into its inert and folded state.

Foyi dropped from the top of the shelf, letting the Force absorb most of the impact that would have at very least sprained her legs and ankles caused by falling from such a height. She kicked aside a case of hydrospanners, then reached out with the Force, pushing her mind past her body until she felt the familiar presence of her lost weapon, a tangible light in the Force for her, as it had been crafted as an extension of herself and her abilities. She stretched out a hand, and the discblade came whirling out of the darkness, emerging from beneath one of the shelves where it had bounced and rolled after she had dropped it earlier. She gave a sigh of relief as she held the weapon in her hand again, using her free hand to caress the soft wrappings of its handle, the wicked curves of the blades radiating out from the circumference of its outermost metallic circle. She reached behind her and slipped the discblade back into its holster, and for the first time in the last several hours, she felt complete again, even for only a moment when her thoughts inevitably turned back to Tama and whatever plight she may be suffering. She looked up as a ripple of air currents disturbed her reverie, and saw Rayf grin as his wan-shen returned to his hand, where he hefted the weapon lovingly, putting it through a few practice spins and swings, like he was reacquainting himself with the staff weapon through some esoteric ritual to which she was not privy.

Foyi walked past him to the bank of terminals, screens, and holoprojectors set up on the far wall of the warehouse, at an angle from the pair of blast doors that allowed laborers and cargo to enter and exit the edifice. She tapped in a few commands, calling up an interface that would allow her to access the main functions of the warehouse, but was stalled when the security subroutines she wished to access prompted her for access codes. She glanced back over her shoulder to see Rayf still tossing his wan-shen about, then interrupted him irritably, "Hey, if you're done playing with your joystick there, I could use those tech specialist skills you claim to have over here."

Rayf appeared too happy to be reunited with his weapon to be perturbed by her crass remark, pulling the wan-shen to pieces in a flurry of motion that still dazzled the Twi'lek's eyes, despite having seen him do so multiple times already, and in combat no less. By the time his rakish swagger had carried him to the semicircle of computer banks, he had already replaced the multiple pieces of the traditional Matukai weapon on his belt and back. He stepped past her, one of his hands reaching out to gently push her aside, and began inputting commands. He pulled his datapad from a pouch on his belt, the haphazard shape and size of the device suggesting heavy modifications made for the purpose of slicing codes and computer systems of many varieties and levels of security. He plugged a jack from his datapad into Sura's bank of terminals, and started running codebreaking programs on his datapad, while slicing through the security subroutines on the terminals' interface. Foyi backed away to give him space to work, though she could not stop herself from pacing nearby, examining the contents of the overladen shelving and reading labels on some of the larger collections of crates. One of those crates claimed to contain packaged sweet-sand cookies, which instantly piqued her suspicions, so she tapped the release controls on the crate and peered inside to find rows of packages containing the aforementioned cookies, the colorful wrapping claiming they were an original recipe from the Wheel. Foyi picked up one of the packages, wondering if these confections had come from the same business owned by the angry and rotund Whiphid woman Pash had been delivering rolls and sweetcakes to. She dug through the crate, tossing packages aside as she excavated the bottom contents of the container, only to find it was packed full of cookies, as the label claimed. Frustrated, she pushed aside a few more packages, and found with a sense of accomplishment a tiny fracture in the bottom of the crate, a tab which when pushed to the side opened a hidden compartment in the bottom of the crate. Her hands disappeared into the darkness of the concealed compartment and came away with a package similar in size to those containing sweet-sand cookies, though the tough, silky paper wrapping it was opaque, preventing her from seeing its contents. The package was not labeled, save for numbers specifying its weight in kilograms, but she did not need labels to identify the substance housed within, for she had seen similar parcels in the hands of smugglers and addicts on Yanibar a few times before.

Rayf gave a cry of triumph as he broke through the encryption on Sura's terminals. "Foyi, this warehouse is mine...er, ours! It was difficult; Sura knew how to protect his things, I have to give the little blue guy that. But we don't need astromechs when Rayf Moors, Slicer Master, is on the job." He glanced back at her, probably to see if she was taking notice of the accomplishment he was so arrogantly expounding upon, and saw her still rummaging through the crate. "What'd you find?"

Foyi turned to him and held up the package wrapped in glossy paper. "I think I found something we can make a deal with."

Rayf's eyes opened comically wide as he saw the parcel, then trotted to her side and peered down into the crate's hidden chamber. He paused there for a moment, then opened another large crate beside it, pulling out several hyperdrive attenuators and a laser caliper before reaching down and popping the catch on the revealed compartment in its bottom. A moment later, he pulled a handful of packages wrapped in the same opaque paper and flimsiplast, his expression alternating between a grin of triumph and open-mouthed horror. Foyi peered at him expectantly, asking, "This is what I think it is, right?"

"If you're thinking it's glitterstim," Rayf answered breathlessly, "then, yeah. Spast."

"If Yuelo's like any Hutt you've described so far, this would have to be a deal he can't refuse," Foyi surmised, hefting the package of glitterstim between her hands. Even on Yanibar, normally so far removed from the galaxy as a whole, glitterstim had been a rare and valuable commodity, usually found in the hands of smugglers that came through the spaceport, many of the stormtroopers and Imperial officers of the garrison being their greatest customers. Foyi had never experimented with the spice herself, but she had heard that it tended to produce temporary telepathic abilities in anyone who took a significant amount, whether they were Force-sensitive or not. The fact that it was harvested from spice spiders, reacted poorly from exposure to light, and was only produced in mass quantities in a handful of planets in the entire galaxy made it incredibly valuable and difficult to procure if someone did not have the right connections. Its value was only increased by the fact that most governments strictly controlled or simply outlawed its use, and the illegal transportation and sale of glitterstim and other illicit spices had made many criminal organizations like the Hutt kajidics and Black Sun exorbitantly wealthy, practically running the entire criminal underworld of the galaxy with the power given them by their competing interests and control of the spice markets.

Foyi began searching other crates and cargo cylinders, finding concealed containers within the bottoms or walls of an alarming number of them. Meanwhile, Rayf returned to the consoles and used his sliced access to bring up the warehouse's manifest, which listed in exacting detail the contents of every container, cargo cylinder, and crate stacked upon the shelves or against the back wall. Trusting in the security of his computer systems, Sura had not been shy about listing the actual contents of each container, not just the decoy objects and products, and according to the manifest, most of these containers contained at least a small amount of spice awaiting sale, everything from ryll to tempest to glitterstim. Apparently, Sura was well-connected, and most of these crates had already been purchased and were awaiting shipping or delivery to buyers all across the galaxy. Rayf turned to Foyi, who was busy replacing the contents of the crates they had ransacked. "There's enough spice here to make a Hutt drool uncontrollably, Foyi." He reconsidered that remark. "Well, drool even more than normal. Yuelo would have to be one spiteful son of a Sith harlot to pass up an opportunity like this just being dropped onto his tail like this." He glanced about the warehouse wistfully. "You know, we're sitting on a literal fortune here..."

Foyi replaced one of the packages of glitterstim in the crate labeled "Sweet-Sand Cookies", then turned to him, crossing her arms dubiously over her chest. "I don't really care, as long as it makes Yuelo greedy enough to give up what he knows about the Shepherd and allows me to rescue Tama. Besides, what would we do with all of this stuff? Sell it? Become the galaxy's greatest Force-sensitive spicerunners?"

Rayf shrugged. "We'd be unique; I doubt there's a lot of those running around." He looked down at the head of the wan-shen sheathed at his belt, like a dagger riding his hip, and sighed. "Though the Matukai have always held themselves to much higher standards by the very fact that we are able to sense and touch the Force. I'm certain the Zeison Sha are similar."

Foyi nodded. "None of my lessons ever mentioned whether it was 'forbidden' or not to be a glit-biter, though I'm sure it would be frowned upon. As long as these can be used to help us get to Tama, I don't give a flying mynock how many credits we're sitting on."

Rayf smirked and turned back to the terminals, inputting a few commands and codes, then finally pulling the jack of his datapad free of the terminal's port and replacing the device in the pouch reserved for it. "Well, I've reprogrammed the security system to recognize us as owners of the warehouse, and changed the access codes to all the doors and entry points, so if Sura or Vri do come back here, they're going to find it difficult to get in without the Force or high explosives. I also made a copy of the manifest and the holomap that Sura put together of the Mines, both of which I figure could be used to entice Yuelo into not nailing us to the wall upon seeing us again."

"You sound confident."

"Really? I'm a better actor than I thought."

Foyi thought of when they had first met in Baruk's Bar, then shook her head ruefully. "Not really, considering the display you put on when we first met."

"In my defense, I was temporarily drunk, though I don't think the same could be said of you when you were groping that Houk."

Her expression grew fierce as she leveled a threatening finger at him. "Don't."

His grin was practically radiant. "Whatever you say, muni."

"I said 'don't', dammit!"

Rayf merely laughed as he turned and walked toward the blast doors, Foyi following after, feeling more than a little self-conscious.

The Nest had changed in subtle manners from the first time Foyi had visited, and she could not see any of these changes being positive or appealing. It was still a confusing warren of winding tunnels and haphazard chambers artificial and natural, as if it had originally been dug out by a hive of spice-crazed Killiks with no sense of unity or direction in their efforts. But now these walls were pockmarked with the scars of recent battle and directionless violence, blaster burns and carbon scoring accompanying graffiti made from the different colors of spilled bodily fluids and washes of splattered blood. The underlying sense of violent tension and incessant malice that had permeated the close, cloying air here had become an angry hum, a vibration at the edge of her Force-enhanced perceptions. Wanton violence, death, and destruction had occurred in these tunnels recently, resulting in the cessation of life for dozens, and while Foyi saw no bodies sprawled in the tunnels as she followed Rayf inexorably back toward the Cruelest Cut, the absence of such gave her no comfort. This was the portion of the shadowport frequented by the most violent, dangerous, and degenerate of spacers; for all she knew, the mercenaries, assassins, and bounty hunters here had eaten the corpses of those they had killed before their remains had gone cold. They passed few people as they wound their way through the labyrinth of cold and jagged stone, and Foyi made certain not to make eye contact with anyone they met, for everyone who ventured here had appendages close to blasters, vibroblades, or other weapons, and some carried their tools of death and violence openly, as if challenging all those they met to try and attack them. Foyi and Rayf gave those most hostile and suspicious of purveyors to the small businesses and waystations within the Nest a wide berth, and no one decided to accost them, making their passage tense but uneventful.

Foyi kept her glare on a pair of Trandoshans with Wookiee pelts and braids adorning their armor, carrying ACP Scatter Guns in their clawed grips, until they had turned a corner, grunting and growling to each other in private conversation. She caught up to Rayf, who continued to walk purposefully, exuding a confident and fierce personality that was almost a physical aura about him, and had served to deter more than one blaster-happy lunatic in the claustrophobic spaces they navigated. "What happened here?" she whispered beside him, pointedly staring at a disturbing smear of blood splattered down one wall, in amidst a storm of blast points from laser weaponry.

"Remember that shootout we started at Yuelo's? Pretty much everyone in the Nest wants to shoot everyone else, so once someone starts shooting, everyone starts shooting." He said this nonchalantly, as if the horrid occurrences within the Nest were merely a fact of life and existence itself, though Foyi could see the pain in the depths of his eyes, the slight grimace that tugged at the corners of his lips. He could feel the raw, ragged edges of the Force in this place, the omniscient energy field reacting to the pain, the rage, and the death that had occurred here.

The rest of their walk was accomplished in silence between them, and before long they found themselves before the open, unbarred doorway of the Cruelest Cut once more. Foyi was dazzled by the size of the tavern again as the pair carefully strode down the short flight of stairs onto the cantina's main floor. The atmosphere was still rife with the acrid stench of spice being consumed and burned in large quantities, smoke and vapors from more intoxicants than she could identify clogging her nostrils, forcing her to take shallow breaths through her mouth, which saved her somewhat from the more onerous odor of blood and burned ozone from overwhelming laserfire. The number of patrons arrayed around the dozens of tables were mostly spread out, small groups of individuals belonging to the same factions or mercenary companies keeping large distances between other similar groups, nursing drinks with one hand and fingering holstered blasters with the other. There were marks of carbon scoring on the walls, the floor, and the balconies ringing the upper tiers of the cantina. One of the observation platforms on the back wall had had all its viewports completely blown off their frames, signifying some sort of explosive event, or perhaps determined and sustained blasterfire from weapons far more powerful than normal blaster rifles and carbines. She could see faint smudges on some of the tables and spots on the floor where blood had pooled and been scrubbed clean. The din that had pervaded the Cruelest Cut's ambiance on her first visit came primarily from the screens on the back wall and the holoprojectors displaying bloodsports from around the galaxy; few of the patrons present spoke above a conspiratorial whisper. Only one scantily-clad Twi'lek stood behind the bar, and she offered no more than a weak and strained smile whenever someone came to the bar to refill their drink, which was not often. Foyi let her mind expand past her body, barely dipping her consciousness into the Force's eddying waves, and physically recoiled, the tension and implied threat so thick here, it was like a palpable layer of the atmosphere itself. No matter the level of violence that had occurred in the tunnels of the Nest, it had been the most heinous and vicious here, the epicenter of the raw, pulsing wounds that sent waves of pain and rage through the Force around her, with a ready and expectant air, as if those gathered were merely waiting for an excuse to begin blasting again.

As Rayf and Foyi began walking into the Cruelest Cut, acting as though they were merely another pair of patrons looking for a drink or to kill some time in front of one of the screens, they noticed that almost all eyes in the cantina were turning toward them. Foyi ducked her head, trying to look inconspicuous, while Rayf fixed his gaze on the bartender and the counter surrounding her, as though his only focus was getting himself something with which he might get inebriated on. Apparently, neither one of their attempts to remain innocuous was succeeding, for as they passed the nearest tables, those seated began to rise, drawing blasters. Foyi snuck a glance to either side of her and saw looks of malice, murder, and incredulity on the faces of almost every patron in the tavern, recognition glinting in their eyes. There was a disturbing number of Anjiliac insignias present on those gathered, either tattooed into their flesh or stenciled on their armor, and almost everyone carried multiple types of blaster weapons, several of them actively pointed at the human and Twi'lek walking across the bar's expanse. As they continued further into the Cruelest Cut's interior, those patrons who remained seated stood, unsheathing their weapons, some aiming at her vitals. Foyi itched to reach for her discblade or the disruptor rifle strapped across her back, but she could feel the bloodthirsty intentions of the patrons, and knew they were simply waiting for her or Rayf to make any sudden or hostile movements, barely restraining themselves from filling the air with lethal energy bolts.

Rayf still seemed unconcerned as he walked straight up to the bar and the Twi'lek woman stationed there, who was staring at him with a mixture of surprise, hostility, and begrudging respect. He leaned against the bar and Foyi stood beside him, keeping her hands at her sides, her stance loose, gathering the Force about her that she might spring into action at a moment's notice. The thugs were closing in now, hemming the pair in a cage of armored bodies, blaster barrels, and the cantina's bar. Rayf took a glance at all those suddenly standing so close, and gave a light chuckle. "I'm just ordering a drink, guys. Nothing stellar happening here."

The bartender laughed, a mirthless sound as she braced her elbows on the opposite side of the bar, her nose within mere centimeters of Rayf's own. "You and your muni are either the bravest or most stoopa koochoos I've ever laid eyes on. After what you pulled last time you were here, Yuelo's not gonna let you just walk away this time, kung."

Foyi leaned across the bar as well, dropping her ready stance; if the thugs decided to start shooting, there was not much she could do about it, even were she fully rested and truly one with the Force. "We're cousins, actually, and we've business with Yuelo."

The Twi'lek woman turned her disbelieving stare between both Rayf and Foyi, and Foyi could not determine whether the bartender was attempting to decide if Foyi spoke the truth, or was still discombobulated by the fact that the two responsible for such death and destruction had returned to the scene, where they would undoubtedly be killed. Rayf folded his hands atop the bar and continued Foyi's sentiment, saying in quiet tones, "We think Yuelo is going to want to know what we have to offer him. We're confident we can come to an arrangement that's beneficial for all involved."

The bartender scrutinized the human and Twi'lek companions, trying to discern whether they were serious or not, and was only greeted with the same, calm facades. Her eyes flicked to the thugs closest to Rayf and Foyi, and the two of them suddenly felt well over a dozen blaster barrels jammed into their sides and backs as the distinct sound of blasters being primed whined in the thick silence. The bartender's gaze grew hard as permacrete, and she barked orders to the companions in a voice as sharp as a vibroblade as several of the thugs and mercenaries stepped closer. "Pasta mo rulya!" In response, both Foyi and Rayf spread their hands away from their bodies as the thugs grabbed Rayf's blaster rifle and Foyi's disruptor rifle, then began a thorough examination of their bodies through a jarring, rough pat-down involving far more hands than Foyi was comfortable with. She grimaced as a Kubaz's searching fingers found her discblade in its harness beneath her cloak and ripped it free, while a pair of Weequay busied themselves pulling all the pieces of Rayf's wan-shen from his belt and back. The bartender watched patiently as anything looking remotely like weapons were taken from them, and no less than two of Yuelo's thugs had firm grips upon their arms and shoulders, making certain neither Rayf nor Foyi could attempt anything untoward. She spoke directly to a Zygerrian who, based on the way the others seemed to defer to him, was one of the leaders of this group, with sharp demands, her voice brittle as carbonite ice. "Take them to Yuelo; he's been awaiting this meeting with great anticipation." She turned to Rayf and Foyi, granting them a sultry smile she usually reserved for her favorite customers. "Bona nai kachu, sweets patogga. Kako kreespa."

"Not if Yuelo's as smart as I think he is", Rayf returned with a confident air, though Foyi could see his confidence was little more than an act. For her part, she said nothing, saving her strength and her ire for the approaching meeting with Yuelo. Foyi simply hoped that what she and Rayf had to offer would be enough to entice Yuelo into giving up what information he had regarding the Shepherd and Tama. The Hutt's thugs began roughly shoving her and Rayf forward, leading them in a rowdy cluster toward one of the narrow openings on the far wall of the cantina, denoting close tunnels curving off into other portions of Yuelo's establishment. At first, she believed the tunnel they all crammed and jostled their way through was the same passageway that led to the gladiator pit where she had nearly had her face ripped off by a Barabel, but the contours of this tunnel were much more jagged than the previous one had been, and it curved off in an opposing direction. It covered significantly more distance as well, and Foyi was just beginning to feel the oppressive sensations of claustrophobia and violation from the close confines and the sweating bodies rubbing against and jostling her when the tunnel suddenly opened up into a chamber nearly as large as the taproom of the Cruelest Cut. It was dimly lit by only a few glowstrips set into the stone walls and luma globes upon stands standing equidistantly throughout the room. The center of the room was dominated by a large cage of crisscrossing bars made from durasteel, with a single swinging door on one side and projectors along the floor and ceiling of the conveyance, able to create a force field or ray shield about its exterior. Nothing was presently in the cage, save for several smears and splashes of blood that glinted in the dim light, an epitaph to recent violence. More patrons and bodyguards ringed the outer edges of the room, either standing with weapons at the ready, or seated at small tables and booths eating, drinking, and exchanging a menagerie of currencies amongst themselves, paying and receiving bets. The air in the room was rife with celebratory attitudes, the aftermath of excitement induced by some sort of gladiatorial bout that Rayf and Foyi had arrived too late to witness. As they were shoved into the chamber, the taunts, jeers, cheers, and idle chatter began to fade into quiet murmurs and searing glares; apparently, the members of the audience were already well-acquainted with the previous actions of Foyi and Rayf in the cantina. They were shoved forward so abruptly they nearly lost their balance, and were practically dragged around the cage's perimeter to the far side of the room, whereupon a dais heaped with cushions, rugs, and blankets sat the enormous bulk of the Hutt known as Yuelo. He sat in a slumped and contented manner, his heavy-lidded eyes half-closed, as though the violent activities that had just occurred in the room were so banal and routine they were little more than a sleep aid to him. Arrayed around him were Houks and Nikto in piecemeal armor, blaster rifles and longblasters held across their chests. Standing behind and a little to the side of the Hutt was another large being, his arms crossed before a heaving and blood-spattered chest, his small eyes piercing with a determined and fell gaze upon all those who dared to meet his regard, as if he viewed all other sentients as mere objects, tools, or even prey. It took a moment for Foyi to recognize the species the creature belonged to, for she had never seen one of his kind before, but had heard of their immense strength and imposing presences from spacers' tales recounted to her by her sister. The creature was bipedal in structure, standing over two and a half meters high, covered in tiny scales of greenish-blue, taller than the largest Wookiee she had ever seen, and twice as wide in girth, his body bound with bulging cords of muscle. His humongous hands ended in fingers almost the size of her lekku in width, encrusted with dried blood, his knuckles scraped and chafed from heavy punches. His enormous head sloped up to a bald scalp over a prominent brow, flanked by pointed ears like wings adorning the sides of his face, a flat bony plate where his nose would be were he human, his large gaping mouth filled with tiny, pointed teeth, save for the pair of lengthy incisors that protruded over his bottom lip. His only articles of clothing were a purple garment about his hips and thigh, bound around his waist by a gilt belt, while bands of gilded metal wrapped around his upper arms and wrists, the entire outfit appearing to be more akin to a costume than anything meant for modesty or protection. His gaze swept back and forth over the assembled crowd, then settled upon Foyi and Rayf with a glower of hatred, derived from the fact that they were simply alive. It was a Mandallian Giant, and based on the blood streaked across his sweating form, he appeared to be the winner of some contest of violence and ferocity that had just occurred in the cage so prominently displayed.

Foyi tore her gaze from the spectacle of the Mandallian Giant only reluctantly, for Yuelo's slitted eyes had opened wide into a vacuous, baleful gaze. She had expected to read fury in his reaction, or even perverse glee at seeing the pair that had caused him so much trouble in the last few days brought before him, unarmed and within the grasp of his minions. But what she saw was something that made her skin crawl, a cold, reptilian expression that was practically indecipherable. She felt as though she was reduced to a mere slab of meat in that gaze, and he was giving great consideration to whether he should eat her or not. She had heard of Hutts sometimes eating those that displeased them, though judging by the tales she had heard, they preferred to find more creative means of dispatching their enemies, usually involving some horrendous aberration full of fangs and claws. She tentatively reached out in the Force, sending small eddies of perception toward Yuelo's mind, attempting to influence it in any way that might benefit their continued survival, but she found a confusing mass of thoughts and sensations she could not even begin to relate to, much less quantify or influence. It was like sticking her hand in a container, expecting cool, malleable clay with which she may knead to her uses, and instead finding the container full of garbage worms undulating and slithering around her fingers. She withdrew her mental probes with a shudder; she had heard of some species that were resistant to the persuasive powers of the Force, not necessarily due to a natural mental or genetic immunity, but because their brains and thought processes were so completely alien to the predominantly humanoid experience. Perhaps Hutts could be classified as such. She cast a worried glance at Rayf, and found it both comforting and infuriating that he maintained an expression of collected assurance. A brief mental touch of his feelings revealed that he had reached the calm center within himself, falling into the Force and drawing strength from it; this was not another display of false bravado.

The murmur of voices and multiple conversations occurring simultaneously began to fade into near silence as Yuelo stared at them for a lengthy, uncomfortable moment, his eyes rolling about in his head as he scrutinized them closely. There was a rumble in the back of his throat as he inhaled and leaned forward. "I must admit that I did not believe my men when they told me the two who had caused such damage and wanton anarchy within my establishment had returned, their faces undisguised, walking free and tall as if they owned all Point Nadir. Honestly, the both of you perplex me, not only in the fact that I do not know who you are, but in your actions as well, as they must be taken only by those who are precociously confident or supremely stupid."

Foyi was shaken, not by the imposing presence of this Hutt, but by his voice, his mellifluous speech, the words rolling off his tongue in a cultured and careful accent, as if he took great care and pride in enunciating each word of Basic in the correct manner. His Huttese accent was nearly nonexistent. The fact that he could actually form the flabby lips the length of vibroblades around such precise and syllabic sentences had to be a noteworthy feat in of itself. Despite this, when she spoke, she found her voice to be even and assured. "Who we are is not important, Yuelo; what you can do for us, and what we can do for you in return, is."

Yuelo gave a short, barking laugh of surprise. "Indeed!"

Rayf spoke up, his voice equally serene. "The...'incident' the other day was a regrettable consequence of trying to make one of your associates more cooperative. You see, we're looking for something we lost, and we thought he may know where we might find it, and when he finally decided to be talkative, he named you as a source of further information."

Yuelo's laughably small hands rested comfortably on his expansive girth as he leaned back, giving them a look that was more shrewd than it was enraged or disbelieving. "And might I ask if this associate happened to be one Captain Ak-vir Vri?"

"The very same," came Foyi's affirmative reply. "He named you explicitly as a means by which we might find 'the Shepherd'."

Yuelo's eyes opened wider, and some of his guards tensed, awaiting their master's kill order. The Mandallian Giant looked positively bored by the conversation, curling his fingers into fists and shifting from one foot to the other in impatience, as though he would rather be hitting someone in the face than listening to all the conversing around him. The Hutt let out a great, rumbling exhalation, as if there was thunder in his gut. "You claimed to have lost something, which corroborates with what Captain Vri intimated to me after narrowly escaping your...persuasive techniques. Am I to assume that what you have lost is something in the Shepherd's possession? A young Twi'lek female, by any chance? Another 'cousin' of yours?"

Foyi struggled to keep her countenance unwavering; she should have foreseen Yuelo already knowing they sought the Shepherd merely to find Tama. Knowledge was power where this Hutt was concerned, and she could see that this knowledge made Yuelo profoundly smug, an expression on the creature's wide and grotesque face she had not wanted to see. She glanced at Rayf, and though his face had remained neutral, she could see him sweating along his hairline, something he typically did not do even in the midst of combat. Foyi faced the Hutt again and forced her head high. "She is important to us, to be certain, and we wish to be parted from her no longer. Vri told us that she was sold to the Shepherd as part of this slaving side racket the two of you are running, and that you, Yuelo, are the only one on Point Nadir who knows where the Shepherd might be found."

Yuelo sniffed derisively, as if neither her words nor the circumstances at hand fazed him in the slightest. "And for this, you caused such havoc in my cantina? For a simple name and location?"

"You may find that I'll do anything for those I care about."

Yuelo gave a wet, guttural chortle. "And so you reveal your affections for your lost female." The Hutt leaned forward again, his eyes narrowed. "I do not know who taught you to negotiate and coerce, little Twi'lek, but you could do with some further lessons, or a better teacher."

Rayf was about to speak up, attempting to salvage some measure of diplomacy from the debacle that the conversation was fast becoming, but Foyi cut him off, continuing to speak in concise and sharp tones. "If you're done regaling yourself with your own voice and whining about the damage to your obviously still functional and popular bar, you may be interested in what we have to offer you in exchange for simple information, Yuelo."

What few whispered conversations that had been occurring about the perimeters of the room suddenly ceased, giving rise to a thick silence pregnant with tension. It was unlikely that Yuelo was spoken to in such a manner on a regular basis, but if the Hutt was surprised, or even livid at the insulting and demanding tone of voice Foyi had taken, he did not show it. In fact, he seemed pleased; perhaps he relished the implied threat and challenge Foyi and Rayf represented, the fact that there were still sentients out there who were not intimidated by his presence into silence and abject sycophantic groveling intriguing him. Yuelo gave another short, barking laugh, shaking his immense head back and forth in a manner that reminded Foyi of a large, flopping gelatin. Rayf did not look at her, but she could feel his quiet admiration like a soft eddy lapping at the shores of her mind. Yuelo's gaze fell upon her, needling her with his regard as though she were a specimen of a previously unknown species. "Despite your lack of respect and penchant for random vigilante destruction, I believe I like you, little Twi'lek, and I am willing to listen to whatever proposition of business you have to offer. Be aware, however, that despite the reputation of my species, I am no backstabbing scum. The arrangement between the Shepherd and I represents a significant cash flow and a long-standing relationship of professional business and healthy respect for each other's privacy. Based on what you have said so far, I doubt any meeting you plan on having with the Shepherd will end in a civil and nonviolent manner, and so I implore you not to waste my time with anything of less value than that which I have cultivated with the Shepherd. That is, if you wish to leave this room still drawing breath."

Foyi looked pointedly to Rayf, who took the cue and raised his hands showing he was still unarmed and making no sudden movements. He slowly lowered his hands to his belt as the blasters arrayed around the pair shifted to his head, but a wave of Yuelo's stubby fingers prevented them from firing. Rayf carefully opened the pouch on his belt and withdrew a datapad on which he had recorded the copies of the manifest of Sura's warehouse, as well as the holomap detailing the Mines and the most probable locations for which to search for Fische's Legacy. A Nikto beside Rayf snatched the datapad from his hands and spent a moment flipping through its files, most of which had been encrypted, though enough of it had been left in simple Aurebesh characters so as to support Foyi and Rayf's claims that the files on the device represented valuable commodities. As the Nikto subordinate looked through the datapad's contents, Rayf ignored him and spoke directly to Yuelo. "On that 'pad is the complete manifest to a warehouse owned by one of Vri's associates that I'm certain he neglected to clue you in on. Not only was this enterprising individual using his warehouse for lucrative shipping arrangements, but those shipments were laced with hidden caches of ryll, tempest, and glitterstim spice, all high-grade materials." Yuelo's eyes opened so wide at that claim that Foyi was convinced they would emerge from their sockets and plop on the dais before him; she had the distinct impression that Yuelo had not meant to so visibly display his interest, and could not contain his reaction. The Nikto gazing at Rayf's datapad gave Yuelo a brief nod, confirming that as far as he could see, the data supported Rayf's claim. "And if that's not enough to pique your fine sense of business and profit, then you may also be interested in the side project Vri and his associates were working on in their spare time. It may be riskier, and I can't speak for the true accuracy of the information, but there is also a copy of the most detailed map of the Mines ever made, all for the purposes of finding the lost treasure trove of Salovan Fische, his 'Legacy'. My cousin and I are certain that what you find here will be more than a fair trade for some simple information, and discretion on your part."

Yuelo made a slight gurgle in the back of his throat as he considered their words, his enormous, slimy tongue momentarily emerging from his maw to slather his lips with mucus. "Assuming that everything you offer is all that you claim it to be, exactly what do you wish in return?"

"Simple. We want to know who or what 'the Shepherd' is, where he is and where he would have taken the children you've been acquiring for him. And we want your word that you'll say nothing of our imminent arrival, and won't warn him we're coming."

"My word, hmm?" came Yuelo's purring response. In her peripheral vision, Foyi could see Rayf mouthing His word? Seriously? She ignored him as she ventured a step forward.

"Yes. Your word. I am aware of the reputation of your species, Yuelo, though I doubt it's fairly earned, for I believe you to be a man of personal honor and integrity, and thus your assurances that the information you provide is valid, and that you will do nothing to hinder us in righting the wrongs of the Shepherd."

"You assume that I will provide you the information you seek."

"I assume you're not going to let the opportunity we are practically handing to you pass you by."

Yuelo made a sound she could only describe as a growl, his glinting eyes fixated on her. "Even if what the two of you are offering me is real, what makes you think I will not simply take it from you? The both of you walked into my sanctum of your own free will, and now are fully at my mercy. I need only to give the order, and your corpses will be left to the massiffs to feed upon, while my tech specialists slice your pathetic codes and encryption and claim the warehouse for my own, where I can determine whether what you say of this fortune of spice and my chance at the fabled treasure of Salovan Fische are true."

Rayf shrugged, seemingly unconcerned by the threat made on his and Foyi's lives. "Well, you could certainly do that Yuelo, though you may have some difficulty finding the warehouse, considering I didn't include its location in that datapad, or on any part of mine or my cousin's persons. Not to mention the place is a virtual fortress, with more defenses than I think you can throw men at, none of which you could ever hope to disarm without our personal codes to deactivate those defenses and even let you in."

Yuelo waved a dismissive hand. "Please. Point Nadir is a port of no significant size. It would not take long for my men and resources to find this warehouse of yours, as well as neutralize and slice through your defenses. I see few reasons why I should have any need for either of you, reasons that are outweighed by the fact that neither of you have yet to answer for the havoc you caused here the other day, as well as the damage my reputation has suffered due to it." The Hutt had barely finished his threats when all the blasters aimed at them pressed against their heads, throats, and other vital areas on their bodies. One Weequay even jammed his blaster rifle into Rayf's groin with a sneer, and the human gave him a withering glare before responding to Yuelo.

"Did either one of us say the warehouse was in Point Nadir? You seriously believe that we would present such a valuable stockpile to you if it were in a place well within your reach? We're all intelligent sentients here, Yuelo; give us some credit, at least. You could kill us and feed us to your pets, sure; good luck in finding that which we are offering so generously for such a paltry amount on your part." He crossed his arms before his chest, standing defiantly before Yuelo, meeting his gaze with an unwavering stare. Foyi matched it, keeping her expression neutral as the Hutt's eyes swept over her, looking for any hint of deception or weakness in the pair he undoubtedly found most infuriating. Inwardly, Foyi felt both fear and annoyance, as once again Rayf was attempting something both dangerous and surprising, as his bold bluff had not been discussed with her beforehand. He had merely decided to attempt such a bold-faced lie of his own volition, trusting that she would play along, which she intended to, though she made a mental note to slap him upside the head if they survived this encounter. She put her hands to her hips, ignoring the multitude of blaster barrels jammed against various parts of her body, and said in a calm, demanding voice, "What's it going to be, Yuelo? Are you going to have to clean another bloodstain off your floor, or would you prefer to be fortuitously rich in exchange for a little hard data?"

Foyi and Rayf waited impatiently, trying not to flinch every time one of Yuelo's thugs tensed behind his weapon, the blaster barrels chafing against their garments and skin. Yuelo's tail was tapping the dais with a rhythmic and surprisingly weighty sound, his disturbingly reptilian eyes flicking back and forth between their respective countenances. The atmosphere in the room was so quiet, so thick with ready threat and expectant violence, Foyi waited for one of the thugs to pull his trigger just to cut the tension. Yuelo's tail thumped for a final time, producing a sound loud enough to cause vibrations in the floor at their feet, and when he spoke, his voice was soft with a deadly keen edge. "Your fortitude has impressed me in the same manner that your offer has intrigued me. However, as it stands, we are at an impasse. I will give you nothing of what you seek until I can validate the existence of this warehouse and its riches you so fervently extol, and you refuse to divulge such information until you know everything of the Shepherd that I possess."

"A predicament, to be sure," Rayf offered noncommittally.

"What can we do to ensure that our proposed trade occurs?" Foyi asked.

Yuelo's sanguine gaze speared her. "You can gain my confidence in the two of you. You believe that I am a being of integrity, though I cannot say the feeling is returned, for all I know about the two of you is that my cantina is only one area of this asteroid that has suffered at the destructive and anarchic tendencies of your determination. Before I deal with you, you must answer for the damage you have caused here, and that suffered by my reputation." Yuelo leaned so far forward, he looked as though his bulk would cause him to topple forward off the dais. "You disrupted one of the more profitable fights I have arranged in recent months, and caused no small measure of damage to those profits and my reputation as a fight coordinator and entertainer. You owe me a fight. If you acquiesce, you will have proved your own integrity, and I will be willing to give you the information you need at the time you transfer to me the data regarding your warehouse and Fische's Legacy."

Rayf wrinkled his brow, his calm demeanor shattered, replaced by indignity and outrage. "A fight? This is your idea of proving ourselves to you, Yuelo? I thought we were dealing with a civilized being here..."

Yuelo's eyes became slits so narrow, they were mere slashes of red in his mottled and wrinkled flesh. "Perhaps you misunderstood me, human. I was merely being polite when I said the word 'acquiesce'; you actually don't have a choice." Both Foyi and Rayf were suddenly grabbed by multiple hands and forced to their knees none too gently, causing the Twi'lek to cry out as her weary and sore knees struck the stone floor hard enough to clack her teeth together, while Rayf gave a grunt of pain as one of the thugs seized a fistful of his thin hair. Yuelo's regard shifted from Rayf to the Twi'lek, and he said simply, "You will fight, little Twi'lek."

"No!" Rayf yelled, nearly rising to his feet again before he was stuck by no less than three blaster stocks to his spine and forced to fall to his knees again, groaning in pain. Foyi made an unintelligible noise of denial as Rayf was injured, but a rough, calloused hand seized her tchun and wrenched her head back with an agonizing pressure. Rayf was breathing heavily, but he was able to bite out a few words of anger. "If...someone has to fight...let it be me. Keep her...out of this...you've no right!"

Yuelo ignored Rayf completely, still staring intently at Foyi. "You will fight, little Twi'lek," he repeated with a purr. "Before you escaped the disaster you caused in my bar, I saw how you handled that Barabel. How a tiny schutta such as yourself was able to best a creature filled with such rage and so high on spice he could no longer think coherently, who felled a Yinchorri with his wits fully intact, is beyond me. But you impressed me, and you will impress me again, and we will commence with business. Or your annoyingly blusterous friend will have his brains vacated all over this floor."

Foyi felt the fingers wrapped about her headtail loosen, allowing her to crane her neck enough to look to Rayf. Pain twisted his face into a grimace, and his continued gasping made it difficult for him to speak, save for a solemn, "No." She could feel his distress in the Force, his fear for her safety and her life, his belief that no matter what happened here, they had failed to persuade Yuelo and that the Hutt would only end their lives after he had had his fill of cruel entertainment at their expense. He would rather suffer the wrath of Yuelo and his thugs, to have his head shredded by blasterfire, than see her beaten bloody in an arena for the Hutt and his sycophants' perverse amusement. But Foyi sent him a calming eddy of thought and feeling, assuring him that she would be fine, that she had no intention of dying today. Thoughts of Tama were forefront in her mind, and despite the physical and spiritual stress she had suffered over the last few days, the aches and pains she felt still present in her body and the exhaustion still trying to creep in, she was determined to do what was necessary to see her sister again. She would do this if that was what stood in the way of achieving that goal, and she would survive to rescue Tama. For her, the choice was simple, and so she craned her neck back to face Yuelo and managed a fine edge of durasteel to her voice when she spat out, "I'll do it."

Yuelo's wide slash of a mouth grew impossibly wider, forming a morbid and feral grin. "Then you shall fight in the arena provided you, the cage, my little Twi'lek. You will fight to the death; nothing is worth fighting for unless ultimate risk is involved, don't you agree?"

Foyi admitted to herself that she did, though she dared not give Yuelo the pleasure of knowing that. Instead, she asked simply, "Who is to be my opponent?"

Yuelo's hand came up slowly, then hooked a thumb over his bulging, lumpy shoulder. Foyi followed the direction indicated, and felt her heart sink into her guts as she saw that he was pointing to the Mandallian Giant standing behind him. The immense alien's gaze was predatory, as though he were sizing her up for his next meal, and his hands clenched into fists she was certain were the size of her entire head. Foyi tried to keep the fear from twisting her features, but she knew it was prominently displayed on her face.

She had a bad feeling about this.