Jedha

Hela sat next to Vos as he chatted, making small talk, as if this were the most normal thing in the galaxy. They were surrounded by the beings with no heads completing all the service tasks required for the few specially invited guests, who all seemed to think this was normal too.

This was a formal dinner and she wasn't singing at this one.

She watched as several Imperials chatted; one of them looked at her and smiled. An Imperial outpost was being built and from what she heard Vos was supplying some items, or removing some items. She wasn't privy to exactly what. She tried not to appear as if she was listening but she was certain he was watching her.

Vos leaned over to her, his hand on her forearm, "Don't worry. You're safe here. If they mention anything about you outside this room. They're dead. They know that. They know what happens aboard this ship stays aboard this ship unless I say otherwise."

He smiled at her reassuringly then returned to the Imperial seated on the other side of him. They soon became deep in conversation.

She sipped her drink and observed the other guests around the table; it was small gathering for Vos.

Her eyes alighted on Dr Cornelius Evazan; he sat watching his creations, with a degree of satisfaction on his face, as they performed their tasks. She followed his eyes, then turned to the other guests.

"Of course, my work on them was not without its setbacks. There were some initial problems but I persevered and overcame them."

He was speaking to her; she gathered her thoughts, she had been trying to decipher who was who. A couple of them wore white uniforms. Zur had worn white.

ISB?

She turned to him, "But why? Surely they have family?"

He shrugged.

"Most would be dead by now, if I had not intervened. Through accidents, attacks. Brain dead, so I replaced the damaged parts with cybernetics."

Hela watched as one of them filled up her plate; she put out her hand to stop it. This was one time she could not force herself to eat anything.

"It is amazing how some people simply want an organic subservient server and not a droid."

"Subservient?"

"Oh yes, they're as subservient as droids, more so than some. Some droids are almost sentient, in that they learn and assimilate knowledge and are self aware but I blame the designers."

Gesturing to the nearest server, "So how do you make them subservient?" She asked.

"Cybernetics of course, I strip them of their identities."

Hela stared at him, unable to speak.

"It's ingeniously simple. I know. Yet no one else had done it." He said proudly.

"I think there was a reason for that. It's unethical." She finally retorted.

He shrugged.

"What's unethical for one person, is a breakthrough for another. But only a genius would understand this and be able to accomplish it. And if it hadn't been for Dryden backing me, I would never have made the breakthroughs I did. He was most helpful."

Vos leaned back in his chair, overhearing the conversation and drinking his wine, "It was a good scheme bound to make a profit."

Hela drained her glass and asked for it to be refilled; a decraniated filled it for her. She saw Dryden watching her. She cocked her head to one side and smiled, then raised her glass.

This is a living nightmare and I'm never going to wake up.

.

Hela was left alone, whilst they went into his office to discuss further terms; she walked around, looking at the various antiquities he collected. He was a connoisseur, of sorts. He was educated although he had let slip that he had educated himself, as he wanted what those in the upper echelons of Coruscant society had. The only way he could do that was by using his brains. He said. He did what he did openly whilst many others in so called, polite society kept their criminal dealings hidden.

She stared at Zur's knife; it was her knife now.

The decraniated wandered around cleaning up, ignoring her. The small band played in the background, two Enforcers stood at the main door. Hela wandered over to the transparisteel windows; they were large for a private ship. They weren't moving and it looked pleasant outside. She had a sudden urge to go outside and breathe fresh, unrecycled air.

She let her forehead rest against the clear transparisteel; it felt refreshingly cold to her head. Her hand rested on the latch. She hadn't even noticed that they had latches before and thought it odd that a ship which went into a vacuum had them.

The ground looked very far away, tiny objects and people who had no idea what kind of man was in this ship making deals that could affect their lives.

She put her hand on the latch.

"You'd be dead before you hit the ground. And what would that serve?"

Aola's lilting Twi'lek accent stopped her movement but she didn't answer her.

"You'd just be another one of his victims."

"Perhaps I need to take responsibility for my own life."

"You do. But not in this way."

Her hand rested on top of Hela's; she could feel her her breath on her neck.

"And what about N'ina and J'ila."

"Find someone else!"

"There is no one else that I trust. Not here."

"I'm not who you think I am, or hope me to be."

"Then all is lost."

She left her hand on Hela's, "I have hope for you. Have hope for yourself."

Hela shook her head.

"Things are happening in the galaxy. The Empire has taken too much."

"What do you mean?"

Aola shook her head, "Just have hope. We can do a lot with hope."

The Enforcer came across; it was the one that liked Aola. He said nothing to Hela but addressed Aola.

"He's waiting for you."

She nodded.

"I'm performing for one of the guests. Apparently he likes 'twi's'." She replied sarcastically and rolled her shoulders.

Hela watched her walk to Vos office; he stood waiting for her, let her in, closing the door behind her.

"Ah my dear. Still here? I thought you had retired."

"Just taking in the view."

She stared at the ancient city in the distance, past the desert and mesa, rocky spires that rose around it.

"It looks more hospitable than it is. It's not known as the cold moon for nothing."

An Imperial freighter held its position high above the old city; she could just make out the shuttles and transports going to and fro from the surface. A continuous stream of traffic.

"The Empire has a base here?" She asked unsure how much he would tell her.

"A mining base."

"What could they possibly be mining here?" She wondered, aloud.

"Kyber crystals."

He noticed her hand on the latch, "Do you want to open it?"

"No it's okay."

He rested his hand on top of hers and twisted it, opening it. She expected to feel a rush of cold air hitting her, but instead she saw the shimmer of a force field.

"Nothing can get through that force field." He commented.

She wasn't sure if he knew what she had been thinking but he had answered the question for her. There was no way out there.

"Is there anything you need? You never ask for anything from me."

"Let me go."

He smiled, "That is not possible. But I have a request." He said, tilting her face up to look at him, "Call me Dryden!"

Hela knew it was not a request.

.

Hela lay staring at the ceiling thinking over what Aola had said; if she was really her hope for her children then she mustn't extinguish that.

She heard a soft knock on the door and then it shushed open. Aola slid in. Hela sat up quickly and off the bed. She saw the bruises on her leccu straight away. There were a few on her arms too.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes. They'll fade. I've had worse and will get worse, I'm sure but this is why I asked you to look after them."

"Are you okay? No more thoughts like before?"

'No point. Force field but you knew that didn't you?"

Aola shrugged.

"Why the beating? Is it just him or — "

"I may have talked too much."

"Too much?"

"Sensitive subject matter."

Hela put her music on,

Aola raised an eyebrow.

"I know Vos said my bedroom wasn't bugged but are we sure?"

"As far as I know these rooms are not bugged. His office and others are."

"Your friend."

Aola smiled, nodding.

"The Empire's here mining for Kyber crystals. It was what Jedi used to use in their lightsabers. Not sure what they're using it for but there's a lot."

"That's interesting but not sure what we can do with it."

"I can't do anything. I wasn't sure if you could."

Aola shook her head, "Me neither."

Hela watched her, certain there was something else going on, something she was not privy to and probably didn't want to be, "I'll look after them, as much as I can."

"That's all I ask."

Aola grasped her hands and held them tight.

.

Na Jedha

"This is our way in?" Mayday watched with Enfys from the shadows, as Weazal negotiated with the Chandrilan. It appeared one sided.

"He's a member of the Sculdun family." Enfys explained.

"Should I know them?"

"Up and coming on Chandrila. The head was just a thug for hire until the Empire, now he's expanding. But keeps a legit bakery business. Word is he has ties with members of Chandrila government. Possibly Senators."

"What kind of ties?"

"This is rumour but it seems possible. He lent money to a few members of the government and now he owns them."

Mayday hated anything to do with criminal gangs; he was brought up to fight as a soldier with Rules of Engagement, most of the time, and this wasn't the warfare, he understood. It made him uneasy.

"How?"

"The money came from some of his illegal activities. Now it would look like they're backing his activities and taking a cut. If even a tiny part of the information was leaked, it would cause political problems. They must have been desperate."

"Why don't they just report it to the authorities?"

"The publicity. It wouldn't be hidden then but they like their respectability more. It could affect their votes. Chandrila is apparently a Democracy."

"And how's that working for them?"

Enfys didn't answer, as they both saw the Chandrilan lifting Weazal by the throat; she took the shot at the same time as Mayday, but the man had moved out of their way. May Day was there a split second later punching him in the solar plexus; he folded over dropping Weazal, who rolled away. The Chandrilan was momentarily paralysed and couldn't get his breath. That was his intention, then Mayday finished him. He put his hand flat on the back of his opponent's head and smashed it down onto his raised knee, shoved him away and turned around fast, looking for any others. There were none just Weazal and Enfys watching.

"Remind me not to get on your bad side." Muttered Weazal, his voice hoarse, as he bent down and started to strip the clothes off the man, "These should fit you and we'll be able to do something with the ID."

"So where is he supposed to be next?"

"Vandor!"

"Any intel?" Mayday lifted the tunic and held it against himself.

"It's sparsely settled. Lacks any significant technology. It's not like other worlds in the Empire Not like the Core worlds."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I'm a pirate, not a historian."

Weazal wheezed a laugh at the reply.

"The Empire's just started taking an interest in it but they may have a problem if they rely on others to transport cargo."

Mayday pulled the tunic over his head; it fit well but there was no armour.

"There's a few mountains."

Weazal wheezed again, "A few." He managed to say.

Mayday glared at him; he grinned back.

"And?"

"You know what I said about technology."

"Yeah! Yeah!"

"They use trains through the mountains. Conveyex trains."

Mayday frowned, he wasn't familiar with those.

"So Vos is there to broker some kind of deal?"

"That's what we've heard."

Weazal nudged her.

"Is there anything else I should know?"

"No. Nothing." Enfys replied, ignoring Weazal.

.

Fort Ypso.

Vandor

Mayday slid around the back of the lodge, his cloak hiding most of him and checked he had not been followed; it was clear. Weazal and Enfys were out scouting the area. He stroked his beard. It felt odd. Soft and straight. He wasn't sure what the Barber droid had put on but it was strong. He had asked for whatever Chandrilian beard oil it stocked, as part of his disguise.

Happy he was alone, he tapped the code into his com.

Finor answered; Mayday recognised his voice, even though it sounded more tense than normal. He didn't ask why.

"All's well."

"All's well." Finor replied. If he had said anything else, they would have had to abort.

If Enfys and Weazal came back okay, they had the go ahead. He checked the street again before walking back to the Lodge.

He wandered in, straight up to the bar, not interested in the gambling hall or the droid-fighting arena. Had he been a clone trooper on leave this would have been ideal.

He leaned back against the bar, glass in hand and watched the patrons, whilst waiting to get the com update from Enfys.

.

Corubalni Spaceport.

Mayday saw the First Light towering above the smaller buildings of the spaceport before he had set foot in it. The adrenaline kicked in as he walked towards the entrance. The ID would be tested. It was a Stormtrooper, one of many now being stationed on the planet. He hoped it wasn't a clone doing the checking, he could recognise him, or the voice may give him away, despite him modelling the accent on Kenobi.

He was sadly missed.

He brought himself back to his mission.

Get in. Check who's there. Await contact.

"ID!"

He presented it.

The Stormtrooper's head moved slightly, as he studied the display on his datapad, and Mayday's face, he assumed. He didn't think it was a clone, his stance was unfamiliar, the modulated voice didn't have the hints of the accent that most clones had.

"Thank you sir. That way." He pointed towards Vos ship.

Mayday joined the Imperials hearing that way.

.

The 'First Light'

"He's still looking at you." Aola was standing next to Hela in the Reception room; she had been called in for a dancing display. It was a large party and the decraniated and droids wandered around serving everyone.

"I know."

She had not seen him enter but became aware of him after she moved away from Dryden; he stood speaking to him at length. A tall bearded man dressed in traditional Chandrilan garb, which, she noted, could not hide his musculature. She could not see their mouths to lip read or hear exactly what they were speaking about and you did not ask Dryden Vos about his business, not if you wished to survive but the man looked familiar.

She studied him whilst preparing her music. His hair was drawn back from his forehead and pulled tight into a small bun at the back of his head, the rest hung down, wavy; a traditional Chandrilan style, if she remembered her cultural studies correctly from so very long ago. His beard was neatly trimmed and oiled.

All indicated a traditional Chandrilan but with Vos, it didn't make sense.

He picked up a drink and wandered around the room sipping it but still watching her.

Finally their eyes met.

The eyes made all the difference. He couldn't hide that fact from her.

She had stared into a pair of eyes like those many times.

He was a clone.

She turned away.

There were millions of clones made by the Kaminoans, some would have escaped, Cody did. She wondered if he was still alive. What he was doing. The man wasn't him, there was no scar.

The conversation had seemed convivial enough.

If Vos's red striations became more prominent, you had to be careful; she had seen that first hand. It was in her nightmares.

She mingled through the assembled guests; some she recognised from before the Empire, who would turn her in, in a heartbeat if they didn't have to deal with Dryden's wrath.

What happened on the First Light, stayed on the First Light.

That was why Baylan said he was taking her to safety, in his own warped mind.

She still did not understand exactly how Lord Maul was linked to the Emperor all those years ago. There had been mention of a Sith and his Apprentice but that had been Vader or whoever he was before the suit. But Maul, she had always thought Obi Wan had killed him on Naboo, cut him in half it was said and yet he survived and prospered in a way. He was using her as revenge against the Emperor, in a twisted way in his mind. Owning something or someone that once belonged to his Master. That could change in a nanosecond. She had seen it happen.

Aola slipped her hand into hers, "Hold onto this for me."

Hela felt something wafer thin pressed into her palm, she held onto it.

"You'll know what to do with it." Smiling she headed to the opposite side of the room.

Hela pulled the top of her dress closer, slipping the item inside, then tugged her sleeve down; she was safe nowhere.

The well dressed Chandrilan continued to watch her, following as she moved through the crowd, she was made uneasy by his intense gaze and yet it felt familiar, perhaps she was too used to the paranoia now.

She prepared her music and walked up to the small stage, ready to sing, just as Vos ordered her.

.

Mayday felt undressed without any armour, although it had been several years since he last wore a full set but when he fought, the need came back, adding to the apprehension and adrenaline.

The Chandrilan clothes felt more like Jedi robes but on a different level.

As soon as he saw her, he recognised her, his skin crawling as Vos described who he owned and what he could arrange if he wished. Then she sang to order. Mayday wanted to pull him apart limb from limb as he spoke but he would not have survived.

Dryden Vos had a temper; it was well known and he had stated he could get him any thing with one exception —Hela—she was off limits.

He didn't think she was here of her own free will.

He watched her walk across the room, after finishing her song, her red gown flowing behind her; she disappeared into an exit.

Mayday mingled with the guests, nodding and smiling, the now forgettable music playing in the background but all the time manoeuvring himself towards the exit that Hela used. He was certain she recognised him, the way she looked at him. Held his gaze. He looked around, Vos was occupied, deep in conversation with an Imperial Senator and a building contractor.

The Enforcers were watching the crowd.

The Twi'lek currently performing danced towards the one nearest that exit, drawing his eyes towards her— the coast was clear.

He took his chance and slipped through the exit.

.