"Anti Viral."

Written and Directed by:
Paul Burton.
Fiction by: Paul Burton and (mostly) Anthony Hummerston.
STARRING:

Karnov,   Niall,   Mama
And special guest stars:
Hen3ry , Joe-9T, Trio and 'Blinkie.'
as the droids.

AND
Storm Cutter
Rusty old tramp freighter.

Karnov and Niall are hard at work. Storm Cutter is streaking toward their destination, the shipyards at Kuat. Mama is mooching around, looking somewhat dejected.

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?”

“No.” Both Niall and Karnov say in unison.

Both are working upon their lightsabres, beavering away at opposite ends of the table in the engineering section. Rojic’s junk has been unceremoniously swept aside, and is in a crate at one end. Joe-9T is nodding and making the occasional snarky comment. Mama, with nothing to do, plonks herself down between the two apprentice Jedi.

“I suppose I could clean my guns.” She says.

“Uh-huh….”

“There’s a lot of carbon scoring on my blaster.”

“Mmmm.”

“I should really make some mods to it. Upgrade the power pack maybe…..”

Niall sighs. Karnov sighs. Joe-9T sighs. Mama echoes them all by sighing.

“Of course to test the blaster, one needs live targets. I propose you stand here while I try it out.”

There is no reply. The two Jedi are intent on their task, and not really paying attention to her chatter. Joe-9T nods with glee at the prospect.

“Actually, I should also test whether it still works in space. –I’m just going to override the airlock. Just hold your breaths for about ten minutes or so….”

There is still no response.

Mama goes to say something even more outrageous, when Joe-9T gets in first.

“I think that Palpatine is a sleeper agent for the Sith.”

Finally this gets a reaction. “Don’t be a stupid droid.” Karnov says, not even looking up.

“Mostly-harmless-stupid-droid.” Niall says looking up.

Joe-9T simply growls back at him.

Joe-9T: 'Grrrrr!'

Mama asks Joe-9T to hand her a datapad. After some minutes of his obstinate refusal, she gets it herself. “Here is the latest update on the Firespray ships, refitted at Kuat in the last month or so….Grim reading, if I may say so.”

“I like grim.” Joe-9T reminds them. “The grimmer the better.”

“You’ll get more than grim if you don’t start helping out around here.” Mama growls at him. Joe-9T merely wobbles his head at her.. Mama looks over the list. “Destroyed, destroyed, lost –presumed destroyed. Destroyed, missing in action, destroyed, destroyed……”

Finally this gets Niall’s attention.

“So until Kima Venn’s narrow escape, nobody realised that a glitch in the computer core programming was proving fatal?”

“It would appear not. Though the fleet commanders suspected something, they didn’t have a ship working- or should I say ‘not working’ to test their hypothesis.”

Karnov is still not fully engaged with the conversation. “I had a hypothesis once. I had to take a big pill, and drink lots of fluids….-As if I didn’t drink enough already!”

“‘Hypothesis.’ -Not Hypo….Hydro….Hypno-wow-wow-mo….. -Whatever it is you had.”

“So was there a fleet recall?” Niall asks, suddenly more interested.

“Well all Firesprays of that refit vintage are grounded….Although sadly that probably only amounts to a handful at the moment.”

Karnov announces that she has finished her lightsabre. “I’ve finished!”

Niall looks over. “I don’t see much difference.”

“Well, externally there isn’t. But internally I’ve tweaked the resonator, and attenuated the amps. –They were tending to get rather hot after a minute or two.”

“Did you take it to Master Junn?”

“I did. He seemed pleased at first, but then told me that I hadn’t finished.”

“But you’ve been working at this lightsabre for months….-Years even.”

“I know. Every time I get close, Junn asks for one more revision.”

“Maybe he’s just testing you.” Mama offers in some sympathy.

“I hope so. He’s a very difficult master to please.”

Mama turns to Niall. “How about you?”

“I’m fine tuning mine too. Mistress Luce is pleased with the result. –Though she told me that a lightsabre project is never really finished. I think that means philosophically, rather than literally.”

Joe-9T interrupts, “If Mistress Luce were my mentor, and I was at the height of my powers, and the thing needed additional testing, and I was a virile young man…..”

Niall looks straight at him.

“What are you trying to say, Joe?”

Joe-9T starts to sing: “Niall and Tisha sitting in a tree….K….I….S….S….zzzzz…”

The last syllable is extended as Niall calls on the force. His lightsabre flies to his hand. He ignites it, slices Joe-9T’s head from his neck, and extinguishes the blade in mere milliseconds.

“Yup. I think it’s working properly.” He says and stalks off.

Mama is curious. “Was that for knowledge and defence, not attack?”

“He’s defending his reputation. I think that counts.”

A few moments later, Niall returns.

From the floor, Joe-9T’s head taunts him. “Multiple computer cores….Stupid! I only need to re-attach the head!”

Niall turns on his heel once more. He points to the box of Rojic’s bits. Joe-9T looks at it. His two droid arms nestle there on the top of the crate.

“Damn!”

There is a long pause.

Karnov has the last word. “‘Mostly armless’ -stupid droid!”

They all snigger at Joe-90’s predicament. He spouts obscenities at them, until they threaten to turn him off. He pipes down. Niall has been hatching a plot, and he gives a secret Jedi signal to Karnov.

“Just look after this lot, will you?” He asks Mama, while winking at his fellow Jedi.

“Karnov, would you help me find a Lackner-Wendt Auxon replicator? I’m sure Rojic had one here somewhere….” With another big wink in Karnov’s direction, Niall ushers her out, leaving Mama alone. The two Jedi hide behind a packing crate. Niall indicates that they should watch what Mama does, and keep quiet.

Mama saunters over to the table and looks over the bits. She picks up a resonator coil, and puts it down, she picks up several tiny screws and puts them down point upward. Niall nudges Karnov. Karnov nudges Niall. Mama picks up the hollow hilt of a lightsabre. She goes to press the activation button, but instead places it back on the table.

Niall sweeps into the room. “I’m sorry, you’ve failed the test!”

Mama spins around “What test?”

“The trial of the lighsabre.”

“How’s that then?” Mama asks, slightly confused.

“You didn’t pick it up and pose with it, while making buzzing and swooshing sounds!”

“Maybe I could audition for being a Sith?”

“You’ve already got a head start with the dark-side corruption….” Niall says, setting Karnov up for the punch line.

Mama looks wide-eyed at him.

“That’s not the toll of sins past…. “ Karnov says, “That’s just old age!” The two young Jedi start giggling like first year academy students. Mama shuffles back to the cockpit rather crushed. Joe-9T laughs so hard his head rolls off the table and under the counter.

Later, Mama stands in the cockpit. Niall is in the pilot’s seat. “How are the gun turrets coming along?” He asks, looking back over his shoulder.

“Er…Yeah, fine…I think. We probably need to do a test firing. –Make sure the new capacitor banks aren’t going to blow us all up….Y’know, at times like these I almost wish I had Rojic to help.”

“Almost?”

“-Almost!”

Storm Cutter glides back into real-space. At the edge of vision is the green and pleasant planet of Kuat. –The shipyards forming a ring around the equator.

“Sort of beautiful, and yet sort of sinister.” Mama says.

“I know what you mean. The splendour of a shipyard in space, but at the same time, the source of millions of warships, each bringing death and destruction.”

Mama pulls back on a lever. Storm Cutter slows half speed. “We’d better approach with caution. In a time of war, there’s no need to spook folks. –Throttling back.”

Karnov steps up. “Talking of throttle, where is Rojic?”

“Taking some leave-ah…. With Fleevah! They went for a fly-ah down by the riv-ah!”

“Fleeva the terribly tricky Toydarian transport captain?”

“That’s the one. He’s having some R-and-R with her. -Or should I say blue-on-blue?”

There is a pause. “Eeew!”

“There’s an image that’s gonna be hard to shift.” Karnov says, pulling a face.

Mama tries to snap them out of it. “Okay. Concentrate hard on that lush, verdant planet.”

Karnov tries. “I can’t see any verdant….Just green.”

“Verdant means green, -Stupid!”

The communicator lights up. An officer demands to know who and what they are.

“This is civilian freighter Storm Cutter. This is a diplomatic mission from the Republic. We have important information concerning a virus affecting shipyard production models and refit craft…..”

There is an ominous silence.

“We are expected…..”

Finally the voice says, “Please wait.”

They are pinged. They ping back. “I hope Rojic fixed that identify friend/foe transponder. I don’t fancy our chances against several Venator class cruisers all wanting to test-fire their guns.”

“We’ll find out in a few seconds….”

“Usually a delay means they’re scrambling interceptors.” Niall says, bluntly. They wait tensely. Joe-90 wanders in nonchalantly, looking for another adverb, quietly.

Mama tries small talk while they wait. “By the way, Niall, how’s that Twi’lek girl, Reena?”

“Uh…. Okay. I think….I haven’t seen her in ages.”

“And how about your mistress….-And your mistress?” Mama asks, trying to catch him out.

“Mistress Luce is okay too….And….Hey! Wait a minute! What are you implying?”

“I think you answered the question….Thanks!”

Karnov stops them. “Actually it was Oona, not Reena that Niall was keen on.”

“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do, than fool around with two Twi’lek sisters.” Niall says, without really thinking this through.

“How about three, or four?” Mama asks, with a twinkle in her eye.

“Well, now that you come to mention it….” His eyes glaze over and he tries to imagine. “Well no….It’s a case of diminishing returns.”

Mama closes in for the kill. “So your fantasy is to be fooling around with two girls at a time?” Niall blushes a little. Mama knows he’s slightly embarrassed. Niall puts a brave face on it though. “Yeah. Two is quite enough for me….I’m not a greedy man.”

“Oh really?” Mama says, glancing at Karnov. “It’s going to be half an hour or so until we get landing clearance….And Karnov and I are girls, and we’re…. Kinda free.”

“But….” Niall protests.

Karnov takes up baiting him. “Well I was going to wash my hair, but….If there’s a virile young man aboard, and….”

“-And nothing!” Niall protests, putting a chair between him and the advancing females. “-I’m busy! -Very busy!”

“What are you doing later?” Mama asks.

“Well, I….Er….”

Mama swoops with a coup de grâce, “Only I’m free in about….Thirty seconds!”

Niall excuses herself, while the other two cackle like apprentice witches. Niall tries to make himself scarce, which in a twenty-meter long ship, isn’t scarce enough.

Mama continues, her voice slightly raised, knowing that Niall can hear her. “Of course, a real man would screw around with a Togruta or a Cathar.” She says, glancing in Niall’s direction. “Grrr!”

Karnov wants some clarification. “What’s the difference between fooling around and screwing around?”

“Screwing around is just like fooling around….But without dinner!”

“Approach Dorn docking ring, hangar nineteen.” The comm tells them, reliving the tension.

“Phew! -Okay people, prepare to act all diplomatic, and for the Republic’s sake, cover up those Corellian ‘Die Kuati space dogs, die!’ Tee-shirts.”

“The Corellians think the Kuatis are weird. They’re clan orientated like the Alderaanians.” Mama informs the others.

“They have a selective family breeding line with designated progenitors….Or something.”

“I think that means that your wife can sleep with a partner of your choosing, so long as he is of proper noble stock.”

There is a lengthy silence as they all contemplate this.

Niall guides Storm Cutter to the right hangar. Above and beyond them, greebles stretch as far as the eye can see.

“Ooh, look a the greebles on that!” Joe-9T says. “I can’t wait to get out there and pull them apart.”

“Who attached his arms?” Niall asks.

“I expect it was Trio. -She’d do anything for him.”

“I’ll have to have words with that driod. – Actually I suppose we’d better take Joe-9T along with us.”

“We’re supposed to be diplomats. – Being diplomatic. –That’s our brief.”

Mama chuckles. “It doesn’t get more diplomatic than having a homicidal droid standing at your shoulder. – People are surprisingly amenable, with Joe and Sarah-Jane in the room.”

“Actually I think we need better computer diagnostics. –We’ll take Hen3ry.”

“Better give him a rub-down then, he’s looking rather scruffy.”

“Bleep, bloop, whistle, gurgle.” Hen3ry asks them.

“Okay, put him in the droid polisher….By the time we need him, he’ll be having a wax, degrease, blow-dry and buff.”

They troop out of the ship, past the sofa. The delegation meeting them are too polite to mention the dripping fuel feeds; collection of durasteel rust, and pools of pink paint staining their nice clean hangar floor. Behind them is the production line. Technicians and droids swarm over the hulls of dozens of Firesprays. Robot arms and manipulators assemble and weld parts, while still more make fittings for the craft in nearby workshops. The production line crawls on at a walking pace, and every few hours, another spacecraft rolls off the line, and flies off into the inky blackness.

They are greeted by the security chief. He wears a purple badge with fancy writing on it. It says ‘security chief’ for anyone wishing to read it.

“Thank you so much for seeing us,” Mama gushes. “These are commanders Niall Killian and Karnov, representatives of the Republic. We are here to investigate the recent security breach.”

“A most regrettable incident. We are as keen as you are to get to the bottom of this.” The chief leads them off to an office.

Niall asks whether he can see the computer records, crew rotations and other points of interest. Karnov is still boggling at the scale of the operation. “One line in a dozen…. In one shipyard in hundreds in one sector among thousands, making ships by the million.” She says.

“Make you fell small, Karnov?”

It does. Karnov doesn’t admit it though. “Nope.” She lies. “It is but insignificant compared to the power of the force.”

“I once got a toy rocket to levitate about six feet in the air.” Niall tells her, “-Using the force.”

Hen3ry beeps and whistles in a suggestive way, but only Mama and the droids snigger.

“I’d also like to go over your security records, crew manifests, droid rosters, terminal access points, holo recordings…. Everything. I’ll go over it with a fine-tooth comb.” Niall tells the chief.

“Certainly. You can use my office.”

“What’s a comb?” Karnov asks.

Once in the office the three of them get to work. They sift files and trace logins. “We’re going to need Hen3ry for this next bit.” Mama says, and pushes a little remote control. Soon Hen3ry trundles up.

“Is this your droid?” The chief says, looking and sounding scornful.

“He’s a top-notch, state-of-the-art security expert. –Don’t let that scruffy exterior influence you. This droid has done more surveillance sweeps than you’ve had bowls of hot gazpacho soup!” The security chief sniffs in a sniffy way, and leaves them to it.

After some hours, using the serial numbers of the destroyed craft and data from the production line, they narrow the security breach down to a specific day, about a month ago.

Karnov thinks she’s found something. “Here! Here’s when the first Skypray with the dodgy computer core came off the line. – The ones before it are either still in service, or are accounted for.”

Niall is pleased. “Good work, Karnov….None to shabby!”

Karnov looks pleased. “Hen3ry helped. -The force is average in me!”

This gets glances from Niall and Mama and the chief of security.

“Okay, -Hen3ry, punch up a list of all people who had terminal access privileges on that day.”

Hen3ry turns the scomp, and soon a list of the crew rotas are shown. Niall and Karnov start eliminating anyone who didn’t access the terminal that day. They narrow the search.

“I’d like to talk to the crew leaders if that is possible.” Niall tells the chief.

“We run a shift system, there are five work crews.”

“Okay.” Niall takes charge. “Karnov and Mama, start rounding up our suspects. I’m going out for a walk.”

“Why?”

“Because they have means. They have opportunity….”

“What about motive?”

“Well,” Niall says, stretching the word out. “I find that greed is usually reliable.”

“Spoken like a true Jedi.”

“Rojic would be proud.” Karnov agrees.

“What about undue influence as a motive? If they felt threatened, or changed their ideology….a few tweaks, and they’re siding with the separatists!”

“I’ll think on it as I wander around. I need a breather, and it helps focus the mind when one is pacing the floor, trying to figure out how I’d do it. Mistress Luce has two brains, I have two feet.”

“That’s called ‘thinking on one’s feet.’”

“He thinks with his feet? These humans are weird.”

As Niall gets ready to go, Mama can’t help voicing her opinion. “If it were me, I’d programme a droid, and have it upload the compromised code. I’d be off world on that day….Somehow distancing myself from the source of the contamination. Then I’d wipe the droid when I got back, or have it self-wipe or self-destruct.”

“True, but our suspect is probably either a lowly technician, or a high ranking noble…. -Neither are known for their brains.”

“Just like Karnov here.” Mama says, slapping her on the back, and making her choke on her piping-hot Arranque Roteño soup.

Niall paces around. “Mama has a point…” He thinks. He stops by a terminal in an out-of-the-way spot. “Here would be a great place to upload some dodgy code….” He tries to get a mental picture of the scene, but the force and his powers elude him. Later he passes by a training room. This too has an alcove with a terminal, the back of which faces the class. “Another possibility.” He muses.

When he arrives back, he slumps into a chair, somewhat defeated by the task. He looks out over the vastness of the shipyard, wishing he had Tisha Luce and her extra brains to work on the problem. Outside, the vastness of the shipyard stretches as far as the eye can see, and a million lights in space make him feel small.

“What are you thinking?” Karnov asks.

“That time and space are meaningless, that the void swallows all, sucking you down to become an ever more insignificant dot on an insignificant dot. -And that the blackness and hopelessness become one….In a living hell of torture and despair.”

Mama asks, “What are you doing Saturday night?”

“Committing suicide.”

“Um…How about Friday night?”

There is a long pause.

“Helping my friends do the same.”

Mama is incredulous. “An outlook like that, -and you have friends?”

Niall snaps out of it. “Okay. Time to get back to work. Where are our suspects?”

Karnov hands him a list. Niall looks at it. He senses Mama’s concerned look. “I was kidding about Saturday….”

“No problem. I never know what day it is…. A lifetime of leaving on a Tuesday, arriving seven hours later on a new planet, and it’s Sunday already. – Or even finding yourself on a planet with a five, nine or a four-hundred-and-twenty-five-and-a-third day week.”

“Some planets have days measured in minutes.” Karnov says.

“They make my head spin! Talking of which, let’s get back to work.”

They ask to see the shift leaders. They interview each in turn. Niall takes his time with a Twi’lek woman called Suu L’inn. After two hours of interviewing, he closes the door and strides out to where Karnov and Mama are running background checks with Hen3ry.

“You took your time.” Karnov sounds cross.

“I suspect he also got her private holo-code too.” Mama adds.

Niall refutes any suggestion of impropriety.

“Did you two find anything useful?” He asks.

“Not really. – The shift leaders are vetted very carefully. Many are shipped here with their families and treated well. The Kuatis seem to value loyalty and service above most things and also pay very well.” Karnov tells him.

Niall thinks hard. “Who else have we got?” he asks.

“Well, there was a visitor from the Andrim family. He’s called. Illum Andromak. –He came to chaperone three children….Let me see….” Mama flips through the screens on the datapad. “Nellis, Dara and Kell.”

“Sounds like a firm of solicitors.”

Niall ignores Karnov. “–The Twi’lek woman, Suu Li’inn mentioned him. -The youngsters were on an introductory course….Sort of a primer for taking on the family business.”

“I thought that sex was a primer for taking on the family business.” Mama says.

Niall ignores her too. “Family ties are the biggest thing on Kuat. The noble houses stand or fall on the strength of the family.”

Karnov misses the point entirely. “They have their relatives holding up their houses? –Weird!”

“So….The children were escorted around by Andromak. – He tells them where great uncle so-and-so puts the blob of peppercorn sauce onto the Bantha steak and….”

“Well three children couldn’t do much damage.” Karnov interrupts.

“You ever had kids, Karnov?”

“No.”

“Then trust me, three kids can wreak havoc with technology. Ice cream in the video….”

“What’s a video?”

“Old fashioned technology. – Holos used to be recorded on strips of magnetic tape.” Mama tells them. The youngsters boggle at her.

“How retro!”

“As I was saying,” Mama continues, “Kids and tech are two key ingredients in the recipe for mayhem.”

“I like mayhem. In a sandwich with Krayt dragon egg and a little bit of cress.”

“That’s mayo. –Stupid!”

“These children were supervised, yes?” Niall asks, steering them back to reality.

“Yes. They had a tour of the facility, put them back on schedule, and went to the training room to look at schematics, crew rotas, and to-do-lists.

“The time must’ve flown by!”

“Laugh an hour, at least!”

“So unless there’s a moody teenager with acne, angst and deep personal problems, we can probably rule them out.”

Mama puts an electronic asterisk beside their names on the datapad. “They’re not our prime suspects.”

“You make it sound like a murder investigation.” Niall says.

“I’m just gonna say ‘Jamming systems offline! No protection for the convoy….Several dozen escort missions compromised. Help! Help we’re all gonna die! Big kablooey Vulture droids cutting through freighters like a lightsabre through Bantha-butter! ’ –So, yeah, a murder investigation it kinda is.”

Niall takes it one step further. “Not to mention treason. We are at war, and the Kuatis are supposed to be on our side.”

Karnov picks up on something very important. “With all Mama’s ‘gonna’ and ‘kinda’ she’s also murdering the Basic language as well!”

Niall starts to say something, “You can take the Huttese –or indeed the Hutt- out of the girl….But….Oooh, Now there’s an image I’m not going to be comfortable with!” he falls silent.

They cross check some references and statements. “Who else?” Niall asks.

“There’s Commodore Kardashila. She’s on the naval procurement committee. We ran many background checks on her. – No chance to interview of course, since she’s left the shipyard. – Though her record is unblemished, and she’s a loyal and passionate supporter of the Republic.” Mama shows Niall the display screen. Niall checks off Commodore Kardashila’s credentials. “Impressive record. I think we can rule her out for now. –It says here she has often submitted designs for more organic structures to spacecraft hulls…. She decided they were far too non-Mon-Clamari for her taste.”

“She’s a Mon Calamari!” Karnov whoops. “She’s our squid! Guilty as charged! Fetch me the black cloth, and a bucket of soapy frogs. We’ll make her fishy face squeal!”

“I thought Jedi were beyond species stereotyping, and overt racism?”

“Not to mention torture.” Mama is quick to interject.

“-Well, normally we are, but that bug-eyed tadpole-brained, deep-one-wannabe is.”

“Is?” Niall says very pointedly.

“Is probably number two on our shortlist.” Mama says, counting on her fingers. Niall takes up the list. “Below that are Kira Vonn, -I could stand to interview her again….Slir J'Na the Sulissi, and Dal Tarran.”

“That it?”

“There’s the Twi’lek woman….Soo’lin.” Niall adds, casually. “I might have to interview her again.”

“Don’t you mean the ‘attractive, softly spoken, lithe, slim, beautiful-for-an-older-woman….I-could-interview-her-again-in-the-hot-tub-with-a-bottle-of-champagne Twi’lek?”

“Pfft! -I hardly gave her a glance.”

“You were together in the interview room for over two hours!”

Karnov’s brain kicks down a gear. “You know, I keep getting flash-forwards of an evil galactic federation, with only a small band of rebels between them and fascist domination.”

“You’re thinking of the outlaw William Blake and his gang of seven desperadoes. Next time don’t leave the holo-viewer on repeat when you go to bed.”

“What about the senator?” Mama asks, steering the conversation back around.

“If you think we’re busting in on the senate building and arresting a senator….Think again.”

“So we’re left with the chaperone. What was his name again?”

“Andromak.”

“Okay. We’ll get the security chief and ask to see him.”

This they do. “It isn’t as simple as that though,” The chief tells them. “Andromak is a prestige retainer in the controlling family. –What they call a ‘Telbun.’ To get to interview him, you’ll have to ask permission from the head of the clan.”

“We’ll holo from here. –Won’t take five minutes.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to see him personally. I’ll put in a request for an audience with Lord Andrim. If one is granted, he’ll send a shuttle for you.”

“And if not?”

“If not…. You’re on your own.”

Mama is full of bravado. “I’m sure we can fly down in Storm Cutter and arrest Andromak.”

“There’s no way you’d get close to Andromak. A ‘Telbun’ is a favoured progenitor of Andrim children. He’s under their protection and their jurisdiction.”

Karnov’s brain gears are turning slowly. “So what you’re trying to say is that Lord Andrim doesn’t have children with his wife….Or wives, but gets in a substitute to…’act’ on his behalf.”

The chief fills in the details. “It is a respected and revered job. The Telbun is selected from the noblest of families and must be educated, intelligent and attractive. –A perfect specimen of manhood.”

“What a strange system.” Mama says, thinking about the perfect male specimen.

“It’s kept Kuat families at the height of their powers for millennia.”

“The Corellians think they’re weird.” Niall reminds them. The chief is dismissive. “The Corellians are feral beasts in comparison.”

Mama can’t help imagining this out loud. “Feral beast or perfect man….? -What a choice to make!”

The security chief manages to secure an audience with Lord Andrim. “He’s sending a shuttle. You may wait here until it arrives.”

“We’d better get spruced up first, I think.”

“Me first in the driod polisher!”

They wait for some time. Then a sleek shuttle docks. It is deep purple with the clan emblem of house Andrim emblazoned on the side. The interior is plush and purple and lavishly comfortable. Despite several attempts to talk to the pilot, he remains steadfastly silent. The trip to the surface of Kuat is slow but smooth.

“You know, I think Trio and Jeo-90 have something going on.” Mama says, hoping to start a whole new discussion.

“Can droids fall in love?” Karnov asks.

“Love is like the force…It binds the universe together.” Niall tells her.

“I thought that was gaffa tape.”

Mama looks shocked. “If love involves gaffa tape, maybe I’m doing it wrong!”

They snigger for a bit. The pilot doesn’t even raise an eyebrow.

“Trio’s a good driod, but her numerous memory wipes have made her a bit ‘simple.’” Niall tells them.

“How so?”

“Forgetting the difference between ‘madam’ and ‘sir’ –And the fact that she’s only really good for fetching drinks and serving food.”

“Maybe we could get some medical droid protocols installed. –She’d be more useful as a nurse than a waitress.”

“True.”

“Actually I feel sorry for her.” Niall says, sympathetically. “That Igbo of Rodia has a lot to answer for.”

Mama disagrees, “She’s only a droid. A simple droid. – A piece of semi-intelligent machinery. I didn’t see you crying when the washing machine died.”

“I cried.” Karnov says, “-My robes were all scratchy for weeks!“

“We were discussing Trio.” Mama reminds them.

Karnov is adamant. “She’s a stupid driod, with only rudimentary programming. She should go down the rubbish chute.”

“So she’s a bit slow and stupid. She’s had her memory wiped.” Niall tells Karnov., “–So What’s your excuse?”

Karnov turns on Niall. “Well I…Er….Ummm….-I’ve forgotten.”

They put down on an exclusive shuttle pad within the grounds of a sumptuous palace. The gardens stretch for miles in each direction, and the palace itself is a glittering jewel of understated taste and deep blue-purple stone. The main tower is well named. It towers above them.
They are shown inside, where the décor is also tasteful, luxurious and not overstated.

“What a wonderful palace….” Mama says out loud, not really thinking. “A bit like that one on New Plympto…. Where Igbo of Rodia….Liv….er….” Their escort looks at them slightly taken aback. “Wanted….To…..Live. -The one he couldn’t have because his taste is all tacky and horrible….But this is nice….Really nice….I love it!” Their escort paces on ahead without comment. Mama makes a face at his back. “….Let’s burn it down for the insurance!” The escort stiffens, but declines to comment or even acknowledge that he’s herd her. Niall coughs gently and points out some of the palace droid guards, neatly fitted into alcoves along the grand hallway. It is a long walk, and there being nothing more to insult, Mama shuts up.

At the end of the grand corridor, they are ushered into a sumptuous office, where Lord Andrim holds his audiences. They are invited to sit. After a few moments Lord Andrim turns his attention to them. His demeanour is somewhat aloof. The Cathar have got the tongues of the two Jedi, so Mama does the talking.

“Lord Andrim. Thank you for your time, and your hospitality. I’ll be succinct and to the point….We have reason to believe that one of your Trebuns, Illum Andromak is implicated in a plot to sabotage a line of interdictor craft coming out of your shipyards.” She passes over a datapad. Andromak has been briefed of course, but glances over their evidence.

“You do realise that the position of Trebun is highly respected and the result of many years extensive background checking, vetting and selection?”

“We do my lord.” Mama says, hoping her Jedi would back her up with a word or two. They remain quiet.

There is an awkward silence. Finally Andrim nods slowly. “This is a grave matter, and I implore you to be discreet. But your evidence is strong. Andromak is currently off-planet.”

“As representatives of the Republic, and the Jedi order, you have our word.” Mama tells Andromak.

“Good. I’ll have my aide let you know his precise whereabouts, but he is currently on Corellia, at our private estate on the coast of gold.” Andromak lowers his voice somewhat, before adding gravely, “With my wife.”

Our three heroes manage not to crack a smile or glance at one another. Andromak leans heavily on his hands, deep in thought. They take this as their cue to leave. Outside the audience chamber, they can breathe again.

Mama rounds on her companions. “What are you, silent partners?”

“No need to confuse matters, besides, our robes and demeanour bring gravitas.”

There is a pause. “Maybe that’d be more diplomatic if I wasn’t wearing my yummy sushi pajamas!”

Back aboard Storm Cutter, they consider their options.

“It’s a shame we don’t know any Corellians. – Not rich ones anyway.”

“What about the colonel? -He’s rich.”

Mama looks wistful, “Rich powerful, if I was were to marry him I….”

Niall and Karnov echo Mama. “Marry?” They leave the word hanging in the air.

“What? You don’t think we would make a good couple.”

“But he’s years younger than you, Mama….” Niall says.

“Generations even!” Karnov adds.

“Ice ages even!”

Mama protests, “Er….Standing right here….With two blasters at my side!”

“He’s not your type.” Karnov says, rather unconvincingly.

Niall muses, “I dunno, he’s in a management position. -He likes the rough-and-tumble of the space-ways, a shot of brandy, a death-stick and a high-risk game of cards….When he’s off duty of course. And you could be Mrs. Redmoreton-D’Estrella. It has a distinguished-sounding ring to it. –Oh, and I must admit there is a twinkle in those grey-blue eyes of his.”

Karnov catches Niall completely off-guard. “You have strong feelings too! Especially for….” She pauses for dramatic effect, “Hyphens!”

Niall is crushed by the revelation. Karnov goes further, taunting him without mercy. “Mistress Luce was wise to hide them from you, but now her failure is complete! If you will not turn to the minus sign, then maybe she will!”

Niall lets out a pained “Nooooo!” Then realises that Karnov has outwitted him. Utterly desperate he reaches for his lightsabre, but picks up a toilet roll inner tube instead, spoiling the effect.

“Stories say he was a bit of a scoundrel in his younger days.” Mama reminds them.

Trio arrives with a tray of Bantha milkshakes. Karnov takes one.

“Scoundrel.” Mama plays with the word, “I like the sound of that!”

“Anyway, D’Estrella might have contacts on Corellia. –What with him being mister moneybags and all that.”

Niall’s eyes shine. He leans back in the chair, and indicates the door to Mama’s room, still firmly shut.

“If you got married to the colonel. Would you let him into the captain’s cabin?”

Karnov grasps the innuendo, and suddenly spits Bantha milk all over the table, and Joe-9T’s head. She and Niall descend into wave after wave of laughter. Mama goes to the Holo, and after a delay, the laughing has died down to the occasional snort, and the colonel’s holo fizzes in front of them. They exchange pleasantries. The other two are avoiding eye-contact, lest they start sniggering again, as Mama is filling in the details of their mission.

“Colonel. We have a strong lead on our saboteur. We believe he’s gone to ground on Corellia. We were hoping that you might pull a few strings and grant us access to a resort on Golden Sands.”

“Golden Sands I could possibly arrange…. My family has a private beach house there.”

Karnov can’t help herself. “Ooh! Aa lovely beach house? – Let’s burn it down for the insurance!”

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Footnotes. (Not today, thankyou!)