Suggested Listening:
To Athens - John Williams (from Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny) | ...back to coruscant
Oxley's Dilemma - John Williams (from Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull) | ...don't make a mess
"Look familiar?"
Din glanced over at me from his pilot's seat, and I could sense the smirk. I sat up and looked further over the viewport as Coruscant loomed into view beneath us. He brought us down into the very port where we had our first adventure together, and as we strode down the ramp side by side, my senses tingled — it felt like only yesterday that the rancor had gotten loose and I had met Din again under that ship. I had a visceral memory of little Grogu sitting on a shipping container, the sharp, desperate breaths hurting my lungs as I ran to rescue him, only to be shown that he was perfectly capable of looking after himself. Long before I knew his name. Long before I even knew Din's name.
"You gonna be okay here?" Din's voice snapped me out of my reverie as we strode away from the ship. "Last time… it didn't seem like a place you wanted to be."
I chuckled to myself and glanced over at him.
"Last time was a long time ago." I looked around at the shimmering lights of the city, a small smile lifting my lips. "I'm feeling a lot more confident this time."
He nodded, but adjusted his stride to be a little closer to me, as though to provide an additional feeling of safety.
Now, as we walked through the port, everything was so different than the last time. I recalled how I had snatched the coinpurse out of Din's outstretched hand and disappeared into the night, terrified that a threat lay around every corner, afraid of my own shadow.
After the last few months… The last few days even… Coruscant didn't scare me anymore.
The bounty was supposedly an easy one — Fane Reth, an Arcona small-time criminal who had robbed a business on Navarro and skipped out on his trial. Din had tracked him down to a casino here in the city where he had allegedly been holing up.
"I can't believe you brought Grogu down here," I hissed as we descended into the lower levels. I pulled my hood up so that it hung low over my eyes — not that we could ever be low-profile with Din's armor. My face was still marred with the ghost of a black eye, but I figured that if anything, that would give me credibility down here.
"Hey," he muttered defensively, though I could hear the hint of a smile. "He did okay."
"I'm sure he did," I chuckled, following him down a side street. "Back then he could throw a full-sized rancor like it was nothing."
"He could lift up a mudhorn like it was even less than nothing," he said, almost wistfully, followed by a throat clear and, I suspected, a gruff clench of the jaw.
"I wonder what he can do now," I ventured. Din didn't say anything. I walked a little closer to him and lowered my voice. "Lets go visit him. Like you talked about. See what he's learned."
He came to a stop and took a long breath.
"Come on, it'd be good for him!" I had almost said 'you' but I figured it was a bit early in this phase of our relationship to psychoanalyze him directly to his face. "You can give him the chainmail you had made for him."
"… Maybe," he grumbled eventually, but there was a definite undercurrent of excitement at the prospect in his voice. Then, he jerked his head toward a run-down looking metallic building, the shine dampened by patches of rust and graffiti. One of the windows in the front was broken, and the neon sign was hanging by one corner. "That's the casino."
"Huh," I deadpanned. "It's no Canto Bight, is it?"
We slipped through the crowds, navigating the shadows until we found ourselves in the narrow alleyway around the corner from the casino's entrance.
"That's him," murmured Din, peering through a high, dingy window on the flank of the building. I teetered on my toes to take a look. Through the grime, I spied what appeared to be nothing more than a shabby old gambling den, sparsely populated with long-in-the-tooth (some, literally) chancers trying their luck at a low-stakes game of hintaro or playing what looked like Sabacc with a beaten up deck of cards. Sure enough, there stood a tall, burly, brownish-gold Arcona in a worn crimson sailor's coat, leaning against the bar with a few human companions. They were laughing, their bodies leaning with a bit of a drunken sway, and when one man's ale knocked into the Arcona, his wide-set eyes turned fiery. He wheeled around on the man and snatched the scruff of his shirt, gesturing furiously at the new stain on the garnet coat. The words were imperceptible through the glass, but it was apparent that these friends were always on the verge of fisticuffs. It was a type I knew all too well.
"Well if that's Fane Reth, this is going to be easy," I laughed, stepping away from the window and looking up at Din. "I handled five hundred guys like that just working at Marfa's saloon. You stay here, I'll get him out."
I threw back my shoulders and began walking up to the corner. Before I could make it more than two steps, I felt the fabric of the back of my shirt and jacket ball into a fist as I was yanked back forcefully.
"What are you doing?" Hissed Din.
"I have a plan, just trust me!"
"Look," he grumbled, positioning me against the wall and placing a hand over my head as he leaned over me. I couldn't help but feel a little thrill as I glanced up at him, innocently. "I'm glad you have all this newfound confidence, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't get yourself killed."
"No one's getting killed," I assured, placing a hand reassuringly on his chestplate. "We're not gonna shoot our way through this, okay? That would make this so much messier than it needs to be. We're going to convince him to come with us."
"Convince?" He chuckled and shook his head. "I've been doing this job a lot longer than you, trust me. People don't just agree to go with us."
"Maybe you're not as convincing as me." I felt my mouth twist in a wry, teasing smile. He stared down at me silently for a moment and I could imagine his expression — I couldn't be sure what it was, but I would've bet hefty credits on an eyebrow being raised.
"Fine," he rumbled eventually. "What's the plan? Go in there and tell him he's coming with us?"
"No, no, no — that guy? Classic fragile macho jerk. You challenge him in front of his buddies, he's gonna want to fight — I saw it all the time at the bar. No — I'll go in and do the damsel-in-distress thing. I'll play a sob story, I'll get him to think I'm helpless and stuck here, and I'll ask him to come out to help me with my broken down speeder bike. And then, when we come out into the alley, you…"
I shimmered my fingers and made a little noise.
"What?" Din said in a monotone voice, like I was nuts.
I repeated the motion and sound, and he just stared at me. I rolled my eyes.
"You give him a tranq and he goes to sleep! And then we just haul him back to Nevarro."
"Huh," he said, wryly. "Is this gonna be your calling card? The Gyddes Vank Ragdoll method?"
"Listen, if it works, it works!" I nodded down at the strange device in his hand. "And that means you won't have to use… what exactly is that?"
It looked like a long cylinder with a blinking blue light and tufts of what looked like metallic rope looping out of one end.
"It's a nyix-threaded lariat," he mumbled. "I picked it up on Glavis. Good for wrangling angry bounties."
He actually sounded disappointed to have to put it away.
"Unbelievable," I laughed, simultaneously annoyed and adoring him. "Listen, we get out of this with nobody hurt, you might still get to use that thing when we get home, okay?"
I shot him a playful look and discreetly hooked a finger on his utility belt before slipping out from under his arm. I felt a satisfied smile creep across my lips as I heard an intake of breath hiss through his vocoder behind me.
"Verbal deals are binding," he rumbled.
"I'm going in through the front," I said over my shoulder.
"I'll be here," he called after me. "Don't make a mess."
Don't make a mess, I thought with a chuckle. As though I'm the one blasting everything everywhere I go.
I fixed my face before I walked through the front door, dropping the wry smile in favor of a delicate, wide-eyed pout. Luckily, my day of rest with Din had afforded me ample time to bathe and clean my clothes, so I knew I looked half-decent, despite the mottled bruising under my eye.
When I walked through the sliding door, every eye turned to look at me. I froze for a moment, a little intimidated, then swallowed and strode over to the bar a few feet away from Fane Reth and his men. As the hum of conversation resumed around me, I tried to look beautifully distressed.
Luckily, as predicted, it worked.
"What's wrong, baby?" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the imposing Arcona approach my side, his demeanor leering and lecherous. "You run into trouble out there?"
I let my fingers fly softly to my bruise as I looked over at him.
"I'm sorry," I breathed. "I must look terrible."
Oh, for the Force's sake, I thought with an inward eye-roll, but I maintained a small, frail outward appearance.
"No, don't cover up your pretty face!" Fane Reth put his large, clumsy — and, for some cursed reason, sticky — hand on my chin and showed my face to his friends. "What a work of beauty, eh, boys?"
For a moment, I felt my pulse quicken and my temples begin to sweat as I remembered my father's cold, spindly hand gripping my face. Push it down, I instructed myself. We'll deal with that later.
"Lets get you a drink," roared Fane Reth, turning toward the bar.
"Thank you," I said, looking up at him with wide, engaged eyes. "You're so kind."
He slurred an order to the bartender and turned back to me.
"You know," he said in a stage-whisper. "I'm pretty important in this bar. I can get you anything you want."
He leaned in closer and narrowed his eyes. "Anything."
I fought the urge to gag as his rank breath hit my face. Behind the bar, a door opened and more men poured out, dressed similarly to Fane Reth. They gathered and exchanged hypermasculine greetings — lots of clapping on the back and deepened voices. I focused my eyes hard on my target to keep them from rolling.
"You seem important," I said with a forced smile. "Actually — you wouldn't be able to help me with something, would you? I can't figure it out myself…"
He laughed, self-satisfied.
"What's the problem, baby?"
"I'm a little stuck, my speeder bike broke down and I can't figure out how to get it running again — it's in the alley, could you—?"
Suddenly, a voice met my ear — a voice that was instantly familiar, yet unplaceable.
"Fane, who's your new friend?"
My smile dropped as the speaker emerged through the gathered crowd and my gaze was met by none other than Migs Mayfeld himself, looking just as he had when we left him back on Morak — only now, he was clad in a dingy violet greatcoat, much like Fane Reth's, and sporting an expression of frozen shock. He quickly turned it into a tight smile, barely shielding the immediate panic that I could see he was feeling. I opened my mouth to speak, but he intercepted.
"Gordel Briars," he said, reaching past Fane and forcing a handshake with me. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss…"
My mind was blank for a moment — it had been a long time since I'd come up with a fake name, and I wasn't exactly creative with it.
"Peli," I said before I could come up with something smarter. "Peli Katan."
Seriously, Moss? That's the best you could do?
Mayfeld seemed to be sharing the same thought process, as he raised a judgmental eyebrow and nodded, his smile faltering.
"Well listen, cutie, lets go take a look at that speeder bike and we'll see what we can do, huh?"
"You muscling in, Briars?" Fane's gruff growl turned sour as he squared up against Mayfeld, preparing for a fight. "The girl wasn't talkin' to you."
"No, no!" Mayfeld's voice was smooth and placating. He clapped a hand on Fane's shoulder and leaned in to speak quietly. "Look, I'm just gonna vet her for you, buddy — these Coruscant girls, they're nutso. I'm gonna make sure she's not tryin' to get you out there to scam you. I'll butter her up, and I'll bring her back in for ya when I know she's good and ready for ya."
I knew my face was doing a terrible job of hiding my disgust, but it did its best. Fane Reth nodded, slowly, his eyes widening. Clearly not the brightest crystal in the saber, I thought. Mayfeld turned back to me, his eyes flashing dangerously.
"Come on, Peli, something tells me you've got quite the pile of metal sitting outside."
I followed him through the building until we came to a narrow side door that spat us out into the alleyway where Din was waiting. When we emerged, he wheeled around in surprise.
"What the hell are you doing here?" He rumbled, genuinely confused.
"I could ask the same thing," hissed Mayfeld through gritted teeth as he strode over. I followed quickly, casting a pointed look of annoyance over his shoulder to Din.
"So, Din lets you go free," I said incredulously, coming to a stop in front of them. "You get a second chance, and this is where you end up?"
"Hey, lets get one thing straight, princess," said Mayfeld, turning on me with weary venom. "You don't know the first thing about me or my situation, so lets drop the high-and-mighty tone."
"What are you doing here?" Din repeated, his surprise replaced by an annoyed urgency.
"That's my business," he answered cagily. "Now you two would do well to get lost as soon as possible, got it?"
"We're just here for Fane Reth," I said. "He's got a bounty on him, we're here to take him in. That's all."
Mayfeld raised his eyebrows and jutted his head forward, as though I had just said something laughably ridiculous.
"Nope. No, no, no," he shook his head and crossed his arms. "Let this one go, Mando."
"I think you should explain," growled Din. I noted the return of his especially rumbly Bounty Hunter voice with a little amusement.
Mayfeld sighed and his hand flew up to rub his face aggressively.
"Alright," he muttered, staring at the cement at our feet. "I'm undercover. I'm working with the Department of Trade — there's been a big problem with the unauthorized dealing of Wendo eggs."
"What the hell is a Wendo egg?" I asked, crossing my arms.
"Wendos!" Mayfeld looked at me with exasperation. "The little lizard things from the forests on Corellia! They're cute — but they're invasive, idiot scumbags like these guys buy them to raise fighters to bet on in underground scraps and don't even think about how they're gonna mess up the ecosystem."
"The ecosystem?" I raised an eyebrow.
"That, and…" Mayfeld cleared his throat and looked down. "They're endangered, we don't want them to die out."
Din and I stared at him for a moment. I couldn't stop the incredulous laugh that bubbled up out of me.
"You really expect us to believe that you've turned into some environmental vigilante?"
"No," he scoffed. "I don't expect you to believe anything, I expect you to get the hell out of here — but for what its worth, the paycheck is good."
"Why can't we take Fane Reth?" Asked Din, cutting to the point.
"He's one of the major middlemen in the operation," Mayfeld hissed, working hard not to raise his voice. "He's making an exchange today with one of the suspected biggest Wendo dealers in the business, I can't report back until that exchange goes down — I've been infiltrating this group for a month, I'm not gonna let you two waltz in here and kark the whole thing up!"
I thought back to Fane Reth's seemingly lecherous "I can get you anything…"
So. He hadn't been insinuating funny business — he had been insinuating illegal animal trade. I didn't know whether to be offended, appalled, or relieved.
"I thought you said this was a 'small potatoes' job," I said to Din with a bewildered smile.
"It was," grumbled Din. "Fine, do the deal and we'll take Reth when its done."
"I've built up a lot of trust with these guys, I can't hand one of them over to a couple of bounty hunters!"
I dropped my hands and scoffed.
"Are you being intentionally unhelpful?"
Mayfeld's eyes flicked to my face and he examined my bruising with a sneer.
"And what the hell happened to your face? Did you trip over your own attitude, or did you finally get on this one's bad side?"
Instantly, Din's hand was on the scruff of Mayfeld's shirt and he had him pinned against the wall with a disconcerting thump. Mayfeld's eyes widened and he laughed nervously.
"Careful," Din warned in a low growl. I wish I could say my more pacifist side made me nobly protest, but unfortunately I found it overwhelmingly attractive.
"Oh, I get it," said Mayfeld obstinately through a tight throat. "She wasn't your girlfriend before, but she certainly is now. I get it, buddy, loneliness makes us do desperate things!"
He groaned in pain as Din pressed him harder against the wall.
"What do you think, Kyra?" Din asked me in a low, sardonic voice. "We could do a two-for-one: Fane Reth to Nevarro and a thought-dead convict returned to the Karthon Chop Fields."
"Hey," I said firmly, and he turned his head to look at me. I lowered my voice and looked at him pointedly. "No one gets hurt, remember?"
He hesitated for a moment, then finally released his grip and let gravity slump Mayfeld to an exhausted stoop.
"We can work this out so that we all get what we want." I looked over at Mayfeld. "Look, we're not each others' favorite person."
He stood up straight, rubbing his neck. I took a step closer to him and he peered down at me warily, like I was going to thwack him or something — but I didn't want to hurt him. Instead, I felt a lump forming in my throat as I fixed my gaze with his and spoke seriously and slowly. I pointed at Din.
"You went into the belly of the beast with him and thanks to you, he came out alive. That means that whether or not we like each other… you have my complete and total allyship. Within reason," I added with narrowed eyes, intent on cutting off any thought of criminal collaboration.
Din looked at me for a moment, then turned his attention to Mayfeld.
"You just need him long enough to make the exchange, right?"
Mayfeld looked between the two of us, and wearily put his hands on his hips. After a moment of thought, he nodded.
"I think I have an idea."
