"Raise the Blue Lantern."

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

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

AND
Storm Cutter
Their home/office/hotel/latrine.
AND Special Guest Star, Ta'alan. As himself.

Two scorching days and chilly nights pass at the moisture farm. The atmosphere is tense, but the Sandpeople do not return. Marcia says “We have thought long and hard, but we have decided to stay here on Tatooine. –Our heartfelt thanks for your help and your offer, but we’re going to stay, and maybe hire a new sheriff." Karnov reassures her. “No problem. We’ll check in from time to time." Ta’alan says, “Once the Sandpeople have taken a beating they usually back off. –That is until their children come of age and want to avenge their parents….”

Marcia ferries them back to Storm Cutter. Mama hands her a couple of blasters. “Here, take these.”

“Thanks.”

Niall is shocked. “I’m surprised at you giving stuff away without payment in return.”

Mama says, “Trust me. I was there. I’m pretty sure I didn’t.”

“No?”

“No. –They’re Rojic’s!”

Rojic flutters in. “What’s mine?”

“Oh nothing.”

Rojic spins around looking for something. “Has anyone seen those old battle droid blasters?”

Jimmi replies. “No.”

“Okay….Thanks. If you see ‘em, let me know.”

“Trust me, if I see them, everyone will know!”

The trip to Ryloth only takes a few hours. They show Ta’alan around the ship and assign him a cabin. “That’s Mama’s cabin, -but nothing ever happened in there!” Ta’alan nods. “-And that’s Jimmi’s cabin. For some reason there’s a mattress nailed to the ceiling….”

“Why?”

“When we land – you’ll find out why. I can get you a mattress and some nails of your own if you want….” Ta’alan can’t quite do the doublethink between slick professional representatives of the Republic and the tramp steamer that they’re travelling in. Karnov has continued the tour. “That’s the workshop. Rojic’s little den. –He likes nothing better than people sneaking in there and welding his tools to the wall.”

“Oh?”

“And cutting the bottom off a tin, and then placing it on the table and filling it with screws and nails.” Jimmi sniggers. “There are lots of other tricks like that. He’s fond of a good joke is our Rojic.”

Ta’alan is starting to suffer from information overload. Jimmi senses this. “Anyway, I’ll leave you here. It’s Kory’s old cabin.”

“Thanks.”

A while later, Jimmi knocks on the door. “Oh, and one last thing….No trying on her underwear!” There is a flurry of activity from behind the door, and the sound of a drawer closing sharply. Ta’alan emerges, looking a slight shade of orange. “I was….Er….Just measuring up for some….Er….‘Hello Nexu’ wallpaper!”

“Good answer….Nice try!”

Ta’alan goes even deeper orange. He tries to deflect the conversation. “By the way, I like the pineapple juice dispenser. –I’ve already had three glasses full. Yummy!”

Jimmi can’t work out what the lad means. Ta’alan takes Jimmi to the dispenser. “Here!”

Jimmi doesn’t need to see to understand. “That’s not pineapple juice! –That’s the Bacta tank!”

“Oh!”

“Never mind. Best sleep it off. –You’ll feel better in the morning!”

Ta’alan asks, “But why does Bacta taste of pineapple?”

Niall can answer this one. “It’s one of the great mysteries of the galaxy.”

They approach Ryloth. Huge blast doors are barred against them. They wait patiently in a holding pattern before flying into the great chasm that circles most of the planet.

“Don’t you fancy nipping in at the last possible second, with but inches to spare….Even ripping the comms dish off the roof?”

“Not this time….Besides, the doors are hundreds of meters thick. –To get squashed between them could really put a crimp on one’s day. –Literally!”

On landing, they let Rojic haggle over the landing fee. The deck officer is reasonably amenable. –Especially when Rojic offers to smooth the negotiations with Alderaanian brandy and a fat death-stick. “How long is your stay?”

Mama replies for them. “A few days, a week at most….” The deck officer takes a shine to her easy-going manner and her crewman’s offer of free liquor. “That sounds fine. I’ll be sure to have your transit documents all up to date the second you decide to leave. Enjoy your stay.”

Rojic casually mentions the other ‘Storm’ ships and where they might find entertainemt.

“I’d try the Blue Lantern. –It’s a club.” He looks about nervously, but seeing noboby eavesdropping can be more candid. “After all, it’s in the episode title. –Stupid!”

“Er….Okay!”

“It’s easy to find. Take a left here.” He points, “-On the main strip. –It’s called that because people go there for the strippers.”

“A good thing it isn’t on the main drag.” Niall observes. “I get the wiggins around men in dresses.”

“I don’t see the problem.” Jimmi reminds them.

“You don’t have to ‘see’ at all.”

“Touché!”

Ta’alan doesn’t quite understand. “I’ll explain it to you one day,” Jimmi tells him. “-When you’re older!”

They walk along the strip. Holos of Twi’lek girls are prominently outside many of the establishments. “I like the blue Twi’lek girls the best.” Niall says. Jimmi muses, “They’re all the same colour to me. –a delicate shade of articulate.”

Rojic chuckles. He approaches one of the holos. “This one has three dials.” He tells them, raising eyebrows from several of the others. “For changing the hue balance. – Look. Red….Now green….Now blue…Now a combination of several….Oooh! Purple!”

“All the fiery passion of a red Twi’lek with the sensual seduction of a blue!”

They are all admiring the colour combination when Jimmi says, “I like that one.”

“-Which one?”

“That one. The one called Hugh.”

Niall isn’t giving the conversation his full attention. “Hugh?”

Jimmi grins at him. “I also like this one. More feminine…Though much larger….Sort of soft, but cuddly. – Rather short Lekku though….” Jimmi’s hands go wandering all over the woman standing there, squeezing and prodding suggestively. “Mmmm….I think I’ll call her….Er….Hugh….-Gina.”

“Or simply ‘huge’” Karnov tells Jimmi.

Mama takes charge. “Okay, Jimmi, unhand me. Put me down and behave!”

They try not to get distracted by all the price-negotiable-affection going on between here and the club. There is a large blue lantern over the top, making this half of the street blue. “I suppose it’s named appropriately!” Karnov says. “After all, you can’t miss it!”

A banner over the door tells those that can read it that entrance is twenty credits per person or droid. Try as he might, Rojic can’t negotiate this price. Niall hisses at him. “We’re trying to be discreet….So pay up!”

The bouncer won’t let Joe-9T in with his blaster cannon. “We have standards.” He tells them, just as a naked Twi’lek girl drapes herself all over Niall, and whispers something obscene in his ear.

“As I was saying….We have standards….” The bouncer reiterates. The others all fall about laughing. “You can leave it here at the door, or you can stand outside.” Rojic Nudges Joe. “It’s an espresso attachment.” Joe-9T says in such a deadpan voice, that the bouncer nearly falls for it. He regains some of his professionalism. “I doubt that.”

“I can plug in into the groin attachment and whip up a tall skinny latte too.”

The bouncer is having none of it. “You can take that up the street….There’s a club there for tricks like that!”

In the end they leave their hats with the hat-check girl, and the cannon with the assault weapon girl, and enter the club. “I like a good scantily-clad and cheeky hat-check chick.” Jimmi says, and adds, “I also like a tricky and testing tongue-twister too!”

“I expect they do that up the street as well.” Rojic says, flying in.

They settle into a booth. All around them are the illicit pleasures fit for a seedy spaceport on the edge of the galaxy. Many more are on offer too, behind a series of doors. –Some even have feeds into the club itself. The band are running through their numbers and there is a combined smell of sweat, subterfuge and sex in the air. –In fact the only thing absent is someone buying drinks. Slowly the team breaks up as they fan out and try to get some information on the ‘Storm’ crews. Jimmi extends a white cane and very obviously taps around the booths, finding the gaming tables. A few soothing words in the gamblers ears and they start to relax. They are even more relaxed as Jimmi massages their egos and their shoulders. Jimmi occasionally leans in and divulges the hands that their opponents are holding. This brings in a small trickle of gratuities from the grateful gamblers. Karnov is moving through the crowd, Niall is watching the girls. Joe-9T sits impassively and glowers in a way that only he can. Mama finally mentions drinks, and stares at Rojic, who suddenly remembers that he has to do something at the other end of the room.

“Drink?” Mama asks Niall, but before he can answer, something caresses his ear, his jaw and his cheek. “Anything you’d like, sweetie…?” A female voice asks him, the words dripping with sensuality. Niall turns and is about to make an excuse. On seeing the vision of loveliness behind him, he stands and wholeheartedly embraces the Twi’lek woman who is standing there in only the skimpiest of underwear. Ta’alan’s eyes almost pop out of his head. “Mister Niall’s a fast worker.” He says to Mama. “Pfft! – It’s Oona, - she knows him…..”

“Knows him?”

“As in sharing a bed and sharing bodily fluids and getting all articulate and I heard that she even…..” Ta’alan blocks his ears. When he unblocks them Mama is still describing the most intimate of details. “….-With her lekku!”

Oona grinds suggestively against Niall. “Do I have to repeat the question?” Niall shakes his head. They move off through the crowd, leaving only Mama, Joe-9T and Ta’alan sitting at the table.

“Well I was about to get drinks,” Mama says, “-Though the drinks they serve here would make even Jimmi go blind. –Rojic can’t have any ‘coz he can’t be trusted with both money and alcohol. Joe here can’t. –He’s got no mouth…. Niall is busy making out, and Karnov only drinks water….-Like a fish.”

Ta’alan prompts her. “That only leaves you and me.”

“You’re too young to drink.” Mama tells him as Joe-9T guffaws with glee.

Ta’alan is not to be sidetracked. “In that case, I’ll have….Um….A.”

long-island iced tea.”

Mama nods in approval. “Sure.” She waves at a serving droid and places the order. Ta’alan puts a finger to his lips to ensure Joe-9T doesn’t give the game away. Joe complies by remaining perfectly silent. A tray of six drinks arrives shortly afterward. “I thought only you and I were drinking.” Ta’alan says.

“We are. These five are mine. Here’s your iced tea….A shame it’s literally that. -Ice and…Er….Tea!” Ta’alan chafes at his ruse having been so transparent. Mama grins like a Cheshire cat at him. Joe-9T chortles to himself.

When the drinks are all safely paid for, Rojic comes over. “Are we running a sweepstake on Niall and Oona?”

“I was hoping we would. –What with your record with gambling….” Rojic ignores the captain and whips out a datapad. Bets range from ‘five seconds’ to ‘five hours’ and there are quite a few takers for ‘Oona or later!’

“As soon as the light goes on, we’ll start the clock.” Rojic gurgles with glee. Mama shows some wisdom in these matters. “Actually I think that Niall will just sit on the bed and want to talk.”

+ + + + +

Niall sits on the bed. “I want to talk.” Oona sighs and closes the door. She and Niall embrace. She twists at a device on her wrist. “This’ll jam any transmissions.” She tells him. “And it puts on the light. –And if your crew are anything to go by, sets the timer running on their sordid little sweepstake.”

“Transmissions?” Niall asks.

“Sometimes people attach listening devices or holo-recorders in the fixtures and fittings. One more than one occasion these are broadcast on screens above the bar.”

“How long have you been here?”

“I’ve been working on this for a while. I hear you’ve come following ships in the ‘Storm fleet.’”

“I don’t know about ‘fleet’, but there are a few that ply their trade between here and the central planets. –We know that they are crewed mainly by women, with a token man aboard. –We’re guessing that the cargoes are more-or-less legitimate. –We also know that they were used to ship mercenaries to Corellia, and hit men to Naboo.”

“Your intel is correct. They appear to be based here – or at least this is one stop that they make along their route. All I’ve managed to get on the head of the operation is someone called ‘Prosepro.’”

“Who is this Prospero?”

“Nobody knows. Everything is done by middlemen. Prospero has many minions that run the business.”

“How would I get in contact?”

“You’d either have to be summoned, make a suitable impression, or become one of his crews.”

“I think the latter is our best bet.”

“Anyway, enough about work.” Oona says, sliding her hands around Niall. “I take it you didn’t come halfway across the galaxy just to sit on my bed?”

Outside, Rojic is cursing. “Can’t seem to get a signal from Oona’s boudoir.”

“Those listening devices have never let you down before sir.” Joe-9T reminds him. “unless there’s something jamming the transmission.”

Mama slides a tumbler to Ta’alan. “Here. Go do something useful.”

“Can I go and fill it with a drink? –A proper drink?”

“No.”

Ta’alan prepares for a proper teenage sulk. Mama stops him. “No. Go and put your ear to the glass and the glass to the door. – Sometimes even high tech jamming can be circumvented by low-tech surveillance.”

Ta’alan does what he is told. A moment later he returns.

“-And….?”

“She seems to be agreeing with everything she said.” Ta’alan reports.

“Can you be more specific?”

“Oona kept saying ‘Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh Niall! Oh yes! Yes!….Oh yes!”

Karnov is listening to the people in the club as they go about their business. She tries to home in on any conversation about smuggling or ‘Storm’ ships or anything about their mysterious leader. There are precious snippets here and there. Karnov is about to make her way back to report when she feels a tingling in the force too. Her hand strays to her lightsabre, only to find it gone. Something catches her eye, but it is gone in an instant. Karnov stretches out with her feelings. She homes in on a table where some pilots are having a game of knock-down Sabacc. Karnov doesn’t get mad. She remembers back to the search for Storm Cutter. When the Tenacity exploded at the Eye of Anobis, Niall went back to search for the remains of the ship. He managed to see parts of his lightsabre across the vast emptiness of space. Karnov has only the nightclub to search. Another movement catches her eye. She sidles up to the Sabacc table, and waits patiently for her opportunity. Then, as the deal is made she makes a deft movement, and snatches at something under the table. As well as a few ‘lost’ credits and Sabacc cards, she manages to bag herself a Kushiban!

“Oi! Put me down!” The Kushiban squeals.

“I think you might have something of mine….”

The rabbit-like creature is adamant. “Put me down, you damp squid!”

The gamblers at the table start to laugh out loud at the spectacle, but Karnov is playing this one straight. She glowers at the gamers, and they quieten down.

“What would a little thief like you need a lightsabre for?” Karnov asks calmly, stressing the ‘lightsabre’ bit for everyone to get the message. She is really tempted to add, “Unless it was for slicing carrots?”

The creature is caught bang-to-rights. It pleads for its safety. Karnov is actually feeling in a benevolent mood. “So long as you hand it back….-And tell me where I might find someone….”

The Kushiban is being held by the ears and has little choice but to comply. Karnov outlines who she is looking for. The creature nods. “Okay. I tell you….You seek Prospero. –He mighty shipping magnate. – Maybe he own Storm ship that arrived today?”

“I don’t think so.” Karnov corrects the creature, and lets it down. “What’s your name?”

“Tikrit! Tikrit find master of bar. Master of bar find Prospero!”

“Thank you Tikirit.” Karnov’s eyes glare at Tikrit. “Now hand it over!”

Mama is relaxing and enjoying her drinks. Ta’alan has sipped his and decided that it needs something stronger than infused leaves and ice. However, he wasn’t paid on Tatooine, and hasn’t got any money. He seethes quietly for a time. Some peddlers come over trying to sell jewellery. Mama has seen this patter before….Even seen it practiced when Kory was showing Rojic how it goes. She lets the traders almost clinch the sale before turning them down. The number of tricks she already knows puts them at a disadvantage. She wants to know whether Rojic can use these trinkets for his bugging devices, but Rojic is in a booth with a Chadra-Fan discussing something to do with oil.

Ta’alan has had enough. He slips from the booth in search of an abandoned drink, or snippet of conversation to eavesdrop upon. He gets to a relatively clear place in the centre of the room, and looks around with the eyes and ears of a hunter.

There is a tap on his shoulder. –In fact it is more than a tap, more like a thinly disguised punch.

“Kor vallah V’Wriz-wuss!” A deep guttural voice says in his ear.

“What?”

“Beat it!” the voice says. In heavily accented basic. “This isn’t a place for you, kid!”

Ta’alan turns around. He is face-to-chest with a reptilian monster pressed into the body of a six-hundred-pound humanoid. His mind races. His heart quickens. He searches for the creature’s race…..Finally he has it. –A Dashade!

Coolly Ta’alan asks a question. “Did you fall out of the ugly tree?”

“Grr?”

Now that most of the club has fallen silent, Ta’alan presses his verbal attack. “-And hit every branch on the way down?”

“Krk Vwraz dis Wrich-z-swootz!” the Dashade growls at him, forgetting its limited basic and reverting to its own tongue. Its tusks churn spittle into foam. The thing stands up straight- rising a good eighteen inches over Ta’alan’s pointed Lekku.

“Sorry I didn’t mean that. –What I meant was ‘did you get run over by a spaceship? -Or was it a sandcrawler?”

“L’orzem ‘pswrzsm dolorz s’t amech-kt, chonsechtetwrzsrz ad’p’s’ch’ng el’t, sed drr e’wrzssmod trwemporz’t!” The creature says to Ta’alan, all the while turning a bright shade of scarlet in its rage. Ta’alan is about to add yet another insult when the Dashade lunges with a vibroblade. – This is no dagger either. In the creature’s hand it looks small, but when it slices a large chunk out of Ta’alan’s chest, he appreciates that objects in the hand may be larger than you think. The boy coughs once. A small shower of blood drips, then becomes a trickle and this in turn becomes a steady flow. The band stop playing, the customers turn around to see what has happened. The Dashade comes up close like a raging bull. Ta’alan looks down at the gash in his chest. ‘That’ll be a battle scar to last me the rest of my life.’ He thinks. Then he realises that this may literally be the case, and that it might be only seconds before it lasts him an eternity. His instincts kick in and he snarls at the monster. His brain telegraphs a message to his feet, and he takes several quick paces back. He is lucky not to have a second wound to echo the first. His hands shoot downward for his blasters and in a fluid movement they come up again, firing from the hip. Two streams of superheated plasma zip between him and the monster, who seems unfazed by their impact. The creature growls again and threatens with the blade. Its edge is crackling with energy. The monster bellows with rage. Ta’alan fires again. Several more hits and still the monster comes on! This could certainly be curtains for our young scout. As he starts to shoot another panicked volley, he hears a welcome sound. There is a familiar zipping sound –And it isn’t Niall doing up his flies. The room is illuminated by a sea-green glow and Karnov’s lightsabre swooshes beside Ta’alan. The Dashade has to step back or be forever without an arm. In the booth, Joe-9T has heard the sound of combat and he hefts a blaster carbine. Karnov is seemingly at a disadvantage, being behind Ta’alan. In an amazing burst of speed, he intervenes, and slashes at the big bully. The Dashade is not cowed however, and it launches an attack at Karnov. The smaller blade twists and turns with little grace but much power, making Karnov defend steadfastly. However her skill with her weapon is far superior to the brutish attacks of the beast. With yet another volley of shots, a hit from Joe-9T and a looping uppercut from Karnov’s lightsabre the beast stops dead. It slowly topples over. There is a second while everyone collects their wits, and then the band starts up again –on the very note they were about to play. The patrons go back to their drinks. A buzzer sounds and several cleaning droids come out and scuttle around. They attach a tow cable to the dead Dashade and drag him off –through the pool of Ta’alan’s blood.

“Are you hurt badly kid?” Karnov asks.

“Yeah! Real bad!” Ta’alan coughs, sending a fountain of blood droplets to the floor.

“I’ll help you.” Karnov says reassuringly, and proceeds to heal a scratch that she has sustained to her knuckles.

Jimmi comes over and administers some first aid. Joe-9T bends down and picks up the still-humming vibro-knife.

“Mine.” Ta’alan says weakly. Joe-9T can’t see a reason not to give it to him. “Boy’s gotta learn sometime.” He says, rather unhelpfully.

“I’m keeping it as a trophy.”

“Not like that you’re not.” Karnov warns, “You can keep it without the power pack.”

“Okay.”

Joe-9T is telling some bystanders what went wrong. “Stupid kid. Made a classic novices error. –He let the other guy hit first.”

Niall comes over. He sees the blood on the floor, the trail leading out of the room and the crowd starting to turn away from the excitement. “What are you doing, kid?”

Ta’alan is too hurt to discuss it. Niall leads him back to the booth and Mama.

A short while later, Rojic flutters over. “Thanks for the distraction. I managed to swipe several hundred credits while everyone was rubbernecking!”

Mama is pleased too. “I managed to swipe several drinks too!”

Rojic feels a tap on his shoulder. A sultry voice says “Hi. I’m plenty….”

“I’m sure you are…. Oh!”

A small Chadra Fan jumps up on the table. “I hear you’re good with your hands….” It says suggestively. Rojic can’t resist a line like this, and the two of them depart. Mama lets out a big sigh as she releases her breath. “Phew!”

“What?”

“I so very nearly said ‘Eeew –There’s a rat in here!’”

Ta’alan is feeling better. Mama picks up a score of credits and hands them to him. His spirits rise. “Here. Take these to the bar.” Ta’alan is already thinking about all the drinks he’s going to buy himself. Mama puts a hand on his arm. “Tell the barkeeper….”

“What?”

“Tell him: Sorry about the mess!”

Oona joins them. She starts playing footsie with Niall under the table.

“Ooh the things that boy can do with Aurebeshi spaghetti!”

Aurebeshi spaghetti

Niall asks what Rojic is doing. Jimmi tells him. “He’s with a seamstress. –And he’s talking about welding.”

“This is obviously a euphemism for foreplay that I wasn’t previously aware of!”

“What do we know?” Mama asks Niall. “-And please don’t tell me that you sat on the bed and talked. I want to know all the details!”

“We have a contact that can contact Propspero. –That’s the person running the ‘Storm’ fleet from here on Ryloth. Your boy has shown that you’re not to be messed with, and with a few words in a few ears, I can get the proprietor interested in brokering a deal. It’ll be worth her while to act as a go-between.

Oona gets to work. She uses the information that Niall has provided along with a few favours owed. She manages to get the proprietor – A woman named T’Shi Won to meet them. Jimmi and Mama negotiate. Jimmi by looking attractive and Mama by offering even more attractive credits.

“Tell your boss that we may have another ship to add to his collection. We have a hundred tons spare capacity and fuel enough for a trip to the core.”

T’Shi tells them that she can lead them to where Prospero has some offices. “There’s little more I can do than that.”

The others glower at one another and dare each other not to buy more drinks. While Mama and Jimmi are oiling the world of business, several droids are hard at work, scrubbing and polishing the floor where all Ta’alan’s blood has been spilled. More droids come out and update the specials board. Behind the bar, the bartender adjusts the ‘Elapsed time since fatality in the bar’ counter. Unfortunately it starts counting down rather than up, and our Heroes take this as a cue to leave. With T’Shi’s directions they head out into the city and soon find a building that can only be described as nondescript.

They report to a bored-looking droid at the reception desk. A few minutes later a blue-haired Zeltron woman approaches them. She is such a vision of loveliness that even Niall is tempted to dump Oona and take up with this woman. She ignores him and looks them over. She consults a datapad. She tells them that her name is A’Dara and invites them to a large lift and they ascend several floors to a penthouse with lovely city views. There is a banquet laid out and several droids are busy fussing over the final details. A’Dara scolds the droids for their tardiness, and invites everyone to sit down. There are hastily-made place markers for each of them. The pattern roughly follows boy-girl-boy format, but gets confused around Jimmi’s place. There is an empty space between Mama and A’Dara. A sliding door slides to one side and a Farghul girl steps out one side and a Cathar the other. Both try hard not to glower at them. Behind the obvious bodyguards is a well-built man with shades across his eyes. He makes a motion for them all to sit, and he strides to the table. A’Dara pushes a button to darken the tint on the windows, and the man removes the shades.

Mama says but one word. “You!”

There is a moment of silence. Every one turns and tries not to stare. Before them sitting at the head of the table is none other than Julan Redmoreton.

“I invited you to lunch….So let’s eat!”

Joe-9T says “Cat’s dead….Let’s eat!” In response, but Rojic waggles a finger at him. The Cathar and the Farghul girls both twitch their tails at him. Ta’alan guffaws, but manages to stifle it, lest he come under the glare of the two bodyguards.

Mama is also rather quiet. Coming face to face with her long-lost husband like this has suddenly silenced her. Only when Niall whispers in her ear, “I think you can drop the fish impressions.” Does she fully close her mouth.

Julan chats casually. “I’ve built quite an empire here….” He starts to say, but them Mama regains some composure. “Without me, Jules!”

“Without you….”

She launches into quite a rant. “I scoured the galaxy for you! Over a dozen years!

You left without a word, a hint, a forwarding address…! -After a while I thought you were dead! I even filed the papers!”

“For varying reasons, Julan Redmoreton had to disappear. It’s complicated.”

“Not as complicated as raising five children with crippling debts!”

“I had my reasons. –Everything is coming to fruition. You’ll see.”

Mama hasn’t finished. “You left me with hundreds of thousands of credits to pay! – The fleet was sold. Our house was sold. All I had left were the children, Storm Cutter and Hen3ry!”

“How is Hen3ry?” Julan asks.

Mama explodes at this. “What do you mean how is Hen3ry? –You have five karking children who haven’t seen their father since thirty five B.B.Y!”

Julan changes tack. His voice lowers. “It is obvious we have a lot to catch up on. Maybe your friends would like a tour of the city. –No expense spared. We can continue our conversation in private. –No need to air our dirty laundry in public.”

Mama is still fuming, but sees the sense in this. She nods her assent. Julan finishes his meal, stands and offers his hand. His arresting manner is just that: Arresting.

Mama takes his arm and they walk to the sliding doors.

When they are gone the others breathe a sigh of relief.

“Well that went well.” Niall says.

“Well? How can that possibly have gone well?”

“Well….” Niall says, enjoying the word, “Mama has said on more than one occasion that if she ever caught up with her husband, she’d shoot him. She didn’t. Ergo ‘went well.’”

“What does ‘ergo’ mean?” Ta’alan asks.

“Ergo is old Tionese for ‘therefore.’” Jimmi says, showing some superior wisdom.

“Oh.”

“Not ‘oh,’ ergo.”

“Talking of going; we were offered an all-expenses-paid tour of the city.” Rojic reminds them. “We’d better hurry up and take advantage.”

“Why so fast?”

Rojic shows his own twisted wisdom. “ ‘Coz if Mama actually shoots Julan, then I’m guessing his minions aren’t going to continue to pay for our entertainment.”

“Good point.”

Ta’alan reaches for a bantha-bag and fills it with things to much on the way.

“I’d have a doggie bag, but there are no dogs in the galaxy.” He explains. “Besides, who could resist these solidified chunks of Bacta along with the coagulated rennet and Bantha milk?”

Jimmi boggles at him, not understanding.

“What he’s trying to say is that he’s fond of the cheese and pineapple on sticks.”

Niall slides up to A’Dara. “With these delicacies your host is really spoiling us, miss…..It is miss isn’t it?”

The others follow A’Dara out of the room.

“Our Niall’s always a hit with the misses….” Jimmi says while surreptitiously slipping a few cheese and pineapple delicacies into a pocket.

“True….” Joe-9T agrees, while magnetising his lower back and attaching several Durasteel knives to it.

“Why on earth didn’t you steal some forks as well?” Rojic asks Joe-9T

“Because, sir, even I draw the line at pre-meditated homicide….With a fork.”

Karnov is about to intervene, when she remembers something. “Actually, talking of knives….Ta’alan, what are you planning to do with that vibroknife?”

“Actually I was going to nail it to the wall of my cabin as a trophy.”

Joe-9T guffaws. “That’s what Niall said to Ooona. –I’m going to ‘Niall’ you to a wall as a trophy!”

Rojic advises against this. “I wouldn’t nail it. – the walls are pretty thin in places.”

Jimmi interrupts. “Use blu-tack. It’s safer for everyone.”

“Where do you get blu-tack?”

“I pick it up off the floor. The workshop floor is covered in it. Little blue balls….”

Rojic coughs politely. “Ahem! That’s not blu-tack….”

For a second there is a pause. Rojic shrugs. “I’m far too busy to traipse up and down to the head…..”

Everyone but Jimmi says, “Eeew!”

A’Dara takes them on a tour of the city. Neb Tyrs orphanage and school of dance, is well received. Niall thinks that he has died and gone to heaven when thousands of Twi’lek girls perform one of their speciality dances. The Floating Rock caverns are the next highlight. At the gardens, one is invited to place a rock within the ever-changing currents of wind that whistle and howl around the chambers. Each sits, rotates, floats or dances according to the size and shape of rock and the nuances in the wind strength and direction. They spend a happy hour there, and some indefinable energy helps melt away their recent troubles. Niall and Karnov are particularly moved. “I must bring Mistress Luce to this place. It’d have a particular resonance for her.”

“I want to bring Master Junn here, and have him pounded by every stone in the cavern.”

“That’s not a nice thing to say Karnov!”

“That wasn’t Karnov speaking, it was Rojic.”

“Where is Rojic?”

“Clinging on to the wall for deal life!”

Something in the force moves Rojic from the safety of the wall, and into the full stream of air. Instead of being spattered on the far wall of the cavern, he hangs there almost motionless. “What does it feel like Rojic?”

“Just like hovering normally does for an avian creature…..STUPID!”

By the time they’ve spent some time going around the sights and sounds of the city and discovering that there is more to Ryloth than scantily-clad Twi’leks dancing around shiny metal poles, they are happy, tired and a little hungry again.

A’Dara apologises for the meagre banquet that they received at lunchtime. “It was rather hastily arranged I’m afraid. –But now please be our guest at the viewing gallery atop the highest building in the city. –Alas there is no sunset as such, but the there is a late afternoon glow that is particularly pleasing to the eye.” She leads them off.

“The tallest building in the city?” Joe-9T asks.

“Yes, why?”

“Just a great place for a sniper….” He says.

“Is your droid always so obsessed with death and destruction.”

“Yes. –Doubly so on Tuesdays.”

“Why Tuesdays?”

“It’s the Sith subroutines in his programming. Something must have happened to him long ago to make him particularly ornery on Tuesdays.”

Niall suddenly snaps out of their reverie. “Mama!”

“She’s not here.”

“No. Mama! – We left her at the tender mercies of Redmoreton!”

“Divide and conquer…” Joe-9T gurgles gleefully. “I expect we’re all about to be picked off one-by-one….”

Rojic taps at his communicator badge. “I’ll just check shall I?” He fiddles with the frequency and gets a signal.

“Mama….Are you okay?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh Jules! Oh yes! Yes!….Oh yes!”

Rojic hastily snaps it off. Ta’alan asks what was going on. “I expect they’re an attraction behind us. –They’re probably stacking rocks in the wind tunnel as we speak….” Rojic lies to him.

Ta’alan cocks his head to one side. “That’s funny, it sounded distinctly like she was having sex!”

The panoramic view of the city is breathtaking. They can now appreciate the skills which shaped the city, cut as it is into the massive gorge that runs alone the equator of the planet. Everywhere there are buildings and chasms and bore holes, as the Twi’leks cut deeper and deeper into the rock to extract valuable minerals. There are also numerous shelters that penetrate deep into the cliffs, for when storms come to Ryloth, they come with a vengeance.

Another great meal is laid out. A’Dara is even impressed. “Sit, eat, drink.” she urges. “I’m sure your captain and Prospero will have a lot of catching up to do.”

The temptation is too great. They start filling plates and cups and settle in to watch the city. Far below them aliens and Twi’leks alike are going about their business. A personal holo signal interrupts their enjoyment.

A’Dara shrugs apologetically and moves toward the door for some privacy. Ta’alan is a little paranoid and decides to round the buffet table and hone his hearing and listen in.

“Yes master. At once…..I’m entertaining your guests now….Okay. I’ll deal with it.”

Ta’alan helps himself to more prawn cocktail as A’Dara turns around. She is unaware that the lad has been eavesdropping. “I’m sorry, I have to go. Something urgent…”

“Anything we can do to help?”

“Um…No. That’s kind of you but no….Um….Enjoy your meal. I’ll be back shortly.” Ta’alan is concerned that she is about to run out on them. “Excuse me, but that bodyguard….The one with the lightsabre….What colour is it?”

A’Dara is dismissive. “I don’t know. –And now’s not the time, kid.”

A’Dara turns quickly and slips through the door. The others turn back to the vista in front of them. Ta’alan is about to say “I have a bad feeling about this.” But the others shush him.

An alarm sounds. Rojic gulps. An automated voice starts relaying an important safety message. The basic version goes like this: “Storm warning. Category six. All citizens to the shelters.”

“Poodoo!” Rokic exclaims. “I suppose it isn’t a drill….”

“That’s no drill….” Niall says, as he points to the horizon. In the distance they can see a raging dust storm. “Okay everybody out!” Karnov is first to the door. It doesn’t open. “It’s locked!” She howls. Rojic flaps over to see what he can do. Ta’alan runs to a contol panel and finds the control to close the storm shields. A motor whirrs and durasteel panels start to close over the observation dome. “That should keep us safe.” Jimmi says, “Now what about the door?” The panels judder to a halt halfway closed.

“I find a lightsabre usually does the trick.” Niall says, a fraction before Karnov. Rojic wails. “I’ve nearly got it!” He pulls off the panel and starts fiddling with wires and servos. “We need to go faster, sir.” Joe-9T urges. “I find a lightsabre usually does the trick.” –This time it is Karnov that gets the line in first. Rojic squeals. “Nothing like a deadline to motivate people.” He says in a panicky voice.

“Dead is a good word.” Joe-9T chuckles. “You know in some militaries, the officers shoot the privates to motivate them.”

“I don’t want to be shot!” Rojic wails. “Especially in the privates.” Jimmi adds.

“Got it!” Rojic yelps, and is almost crushed in the stampede for the door. He sweeps some delicacies from the table and joins the others in the rush for the lower levels.

“Now we know what the emergency was.” Jimmi muses as they exit the tower and can feel the wind whistling through the city. They run through empty streets and follow various signs for the shelters. Ta’alan is on point, with the others close behind. They dive into a large cave, and start working their way downward. The way is blocked by a slow-moving group of frightened citizens. Niall politely clears his throat. Karnov tries to urge them on. Finally, Joe-9T finds a way of hurrying them up.

“There’s a class six heat storm coming, citizens. But you won’t even live to see it if you don’t get a move on! I’m not authorised to use deadly force…But I’m going to ignore that and shoot you!” The civilians begin to shuffle along. Joe-9T prods one of them with Sarah-Jane. “Move or die! Move or die!”

This has the desired effect. The crowd picks up the pace, and soon they see markers on the walls showing the shelters for differing storm severities. Jimmi suddenly remembers Mama. There is no time to use the communicator. –Jimmi reasons that it might not work this far underground and during a storm. In the force Jimmi locates the captain and sends her a warning message by telepathy. There is a second’s pause before Jimmi gets the impression that she is in safety.

The group passes deeper into the cave and with some spotting and some persuading and some guesswork, they find a class-six shelter. They have but moments to spare before a dull roar fills the caverns. The blast of heat from the storm is evident even half a mile into the cave. The storm rages for an hour or so before abating.

“I hope Mama’s okay.” Niall says, sounding concerned.

“I’m sure Julan is looking after her.” Karnov says.

“As in ‘Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh Jules! Oh yes! Yes!….Oh yes’ kind of looking after?”

Rojic makes a very rude gesture with his hands.

“What’s that Rojic? She’s threading a needle?”

Niall points out that in the gesture it is the man that does the threading. Rojic goes a funny colour. “Eeew! You humans are weird!”

Meanwhile, Mama and Julan have had a little coming together. They have argued they have rowed. Mama is watching the Farghul bodyguard the whole time.

“What is it with all these women?”

“In my position I need round-the-clock protection. Mirriam here is one of the best. ”

Mama steps closer to her husband. The Farghul twitches, watching every move.

“Jumpy isn’t she?”

“I don’t let many people get this close.”

“Mirriam is it? Did you write half a dictionary?”

Mirriam sticks her tongue out at Mama.

“Now Gee, -Actually its ‘Merriam’ for the dictionary- Er….Do you mind me calling you Gee again?”

“Uh-huh.”

Mama is watching Mirriam like a hawk, even in the mirror. Like every good bodyguard, she never lets the other person get closer to her employer than she is. Mama hatches a plan.

“Actually I have something for you, darling….” She says and turns around, reaching into a pocket. She steps toward Julan. The Farghul steps closer too. Mama takes another pace and pretends to stumble. Julan moves to catch her, slipping just out of the range of the bodyguard. Mama reacts like a viper, and slaps him hard across the cheek. The Farghul girl goes for a weapon in an instant. Through the stinging pain, Julan waves his hand and gets her to back off. “It’s okay…. maybe I deserved that.”

They glower at one another. Julan realises that he’s not going to make Mama feel safe with a bodyguard in the room. “Maybe I’ll send her out.”

“Is it that time? Would she like a saucer of Bantha milk as well?”

Julan dismisses Mirriam. Mama shows good faith and throws her guns on the table. Julan leads her into another part of the apartment. “Here. I’ve something to show you.” He picks up a picture from a dresser. It is of the two of them on their wedding day.

“You know I’ve got the same picture at home. – And I have to admit that I cried over it so many times, it’d make Kamino look arid.”

Julan is about to say sorry, but doesn’t. “Where is home these days?” He asks.

“I say home, but I mean Storm Cutter. That old crate is my house, my home, my beach house, my office….”

“I’ll buy it from you. -Give you a good price.”

“Jules there are several things you’ll never be able to buy. Storm Cutter is one, the children and Hen3ry are two more.”

“What about you?”

“I’m not some chattel to be bought and sold.”

“I’m sorry. I suppose there’s someone else as well. –Someone significant?”

“Yes and no. Igbo of Rodia offered my anyone I wanted. Old, young, female, male, several- singly, humans, aliens. -Whatever I desired.”

“-And what did you say?”

“I said I was married.” There is a long pause. Tears roll down her cheeks. She tries to hide it but is caught out by the mirror. So many emotions in such a short time….

Julan moves closer. Soon he and Mama are kissing.

An hour or so later and they are lying naked on the bed enjoying a death-stick.

“I didn’t know you smoked, Gee.”

“I didn’t. I do – I’ve changed, Jules.”

An alarm sounds softly.

“What’s that?”

“Storm warning. –Er…. I’ve got something for you….” Julan opens a cupboard and brings out a dress. “I’d like you to wear this.”

“A chain mail dress….Charming!”

“Indulge me….Please”

“I’d rather have some cake.”

Julan smiles at her.

The alarm gets louder.

“We’ve got to go. That’s a full storm warning. I’ve got to make a call. Meet me on the lower level.”

Mama slips on the dress. There isn’t time to brush her hair. – Not when there are more important things to do.

She straps on her guns. It’s time to go….

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Footnotes:

None today!