Querrick the Cowthar — Bantha Wrangler
“Someone’s hailing us.” Butter called out into the ship’s internal comms.
“Who is it?” Knoll’s voice asked, over the bridge comm speaker.
“My guess would be the big ol’ Imperial Star Destroyer blockading Ord Mantell.” Butter replied, already bored of the conversation.
“Star Destroyer?” Knoll asked, now entering the bridge, “What does it want?”
“How should I know?” Butter asked, “We haven’t answered their hail yet.”
“Well, answer it, and get them out of our hair.” Knoll replied, “Sooner we get these goods off the ship, the better. Last thing we need is a bunch of Imperials snooping around.” The doctor then left Butter, alone on the bridge once more.
With a shrug, Butter answered the hail. Immediately, a snooty, accented Human voice called out to him, “Unidentified Wayfarer class freighter, State your destination and purpose of visit.”
“Yes, sir.” Butter replied, hoping the sarcasm was coming through clearly, “We’re a simple cargo freighter on our way to deliver some goods to Worlport.”
“What goods are you transporting?” The Imperial asked.
“Goods.” Butter replied, matter-of-factly.
“What type of goods?” The Imperial asked, now irritated.
“The type of goods that we deliver.” Butter replied.
“What is in your cargo hold right now, specifically?” The Imperial asked, clearly getting angrier.
“Slaves.” Butter replied, “Big, vicious Wookie slaves. And they’re loose at the moment, so I’d suggest you let us be on our way so we can take care of them.”
“Wayfarer class freighter, you are ordered to dock in docking bay two, immediately. You will evacuate your ship, surrender yourselves to the Empire, and allow our teams to search the vessel fully, before we will allow you to dock at Ord Mantell.
Butter rolled his eyes, or at least, attempted to, as he replied, “Roger, roger.”
Querrick had absolutely no idea what was happening. They had docked with an Imperial Star Destroyer. Butter walked out. Then shouting and blasterfire followed. From the back of the cargo bay, he could see Knoll now trying and failing to reason with the plastic soldiers. He also saw a good number more beginning to board the ship.
He rolled his eyes at the sight of their “armor.” Didn’t they know how ineffective it would be against him? Still, the last thing he needed was an all out fight. So, deciding for more of a subtle approach, he took aim at the one attempting to bind Knoll, and shot off a powerful stun blast. The stormtrooper seized up, and collapsed instantly. Unfortunately, he collapsed right on top of Knoll.
Hoping that would put the fright into the rest of the plastic boy’s friends, Querrick shouted out from behind the cargo box he was using as cover, “If you all don’t want to meet the same fate, you’ll stop attacking us, and explain just what the hell you think you’re doing!”
Unfortunately, his threat did not have the desired effect. All six stormtroopers began opening fire on the Cathar, also using stun bolts.
As Querrick did his best to return fire, the odds were simply not in his favor. No matter how useless a single stormtrooper was, if they had the numbers, they were still a force to be reckoned with. Querrick downed two more troopers, before Sadra suddenly appeared, rushing past him, she fired on the troopers using some dinky pea shooter. He mentally shook his head as he watched the futile act. Soon enough, the Elomin was on the ground, convulsing from the stun bolts.
Querrick let out a growl and unleashed more shots at the troopers, but their numbers were simply too great for him to handle in this small space. Try as he might to resist the barrage of stun bolts, he simply could not hold out. And, like Sadra, he too was soon knocked unconscious.
“How is this droid resisting?!” The Imperial interrogator asked, “This shouldn’t be possible. How are you doing this?”
“I am a free droid. I will only answer questions that I choose to answer.” Butter replied.
The droid was strapped into some sort of chair, with a dozen machines all attached to him, all meant to extract data from his memory banks. Yet, the machines were struggling to get what they needed. And Butter knew it.
“You will reveal your secrets, droid.” The interrogator said, “It’ll only be a matter of time. And then, you will be sent to the scrapyards. Piece by piece. The Empire has no need for traitorous tools.”
Butter watched passively as the interrogator left the room. After the door closed, he used is free hand to destroy the machines. Butter knew they would not have uncovered much, if anything at this point, but there was no sense giving them a chance.
Try as he might, though, he could not free his other limbs from the bindings in the chair. The materials were too strong. He would simply have to wait for the others to spring him from this latest prison.
Querrick rocked back and forth, sitting on the edge of the cot in the cell, clutching his legs, his knees to his chin. He lost… He lost the fight against a bunch of bucket heads. What’s worse, he was now trapped. He had no feasible way of getting out. And the walls were practically closing in at this point. He had a plan though. He heard the Imperial speaking with Butter. He could also hear him speaking with Knoll. It would only be a matter of time before he would open that cell door to speak with him as well. When they did, that fool Imperial would learn that a… that he was never without a weapon. His body was a weapon. It had been molded into one since before he could even walk. And he’d be damned if some utreekov Imperial and his plastic soldiers were gonna get the better of him. This fight wasn’t over. No. It had only just begun…
“What is a person like you doing on some dirty little freighter, shipping womp rats?” The Imperial asked.
“My business is my own.” Knoll replied.
“No, no, no.” The Imperial responded, “Your business is the Empire’s business.”
“I do not belong to your Empire.”
The interrogator laughed, “Yeah, right!” He then tapped the rank insignia on his chest, “I don’t belong to the Empire either.” He let out another laugh, “You know what you signed up for. It’s all right here.” He then lifted his datapad, “What I don’t get is how… This says that you’re dead. MIA. So, how, and why did you wind up on some measly shipping freighter? A person of your skills and background?”
“Sometimes it’s better being dead.” Knoll replied.
The Imperial eyed Knoll and said, “Fine, doesn’t matter. I’ll be reporting you, then we’ll have you sent on your way. Back where you belong. Back into the service of the Empire.”
“Look.” Knoll said, standing, “There’s no reason for any of this. As you just said, the Empire believes I’m dead. So, let me be dead. My companions and I will leave, and never darken this corner of the Empire again.”
“You think I’m a fool?” The Imperial replied, stifling a laugh, “You’re far too valuable a target to just let go. No, no. I’m sorry Dr. Din, but I’m sending you back where you belong.”
Knoll watched as the Imperial turned to open the cell door. Once opened, He made his move. Striking the Imperial on the neck, he hit the pressure point precisely, causing the man to drop to the floor. Knoll quickly gathered up the man’s keycard and datapad, before leaving the cell, locking the unconscious Human within.
He then went to each of his comrades cells and released them, as well.
“Take this.” Knoll said, rushed, tossing Sadra an Imperial datapad, “See what you can do about erasing our little visit here.”
“Gladly.” Sadra replied, catching the datapad.
She noticed immediately that the datapad was already unlocked. Whatever Knoll did, he must have done it fast. Realizing the need for speed on her part, the Elomin quickly went to work. Finding the files on Querrick, Butter, and herself, she swiftly deleted all records. Not just from the ship, but from the Empire’s databanks. It was then that she realized this datapad was linked directly into whatever private holonet the Empire used for its own data storage.
This opened up so many tantalizing possibilities for Sadra, she realized. But she also knew that time was of the absolute, utmost essence. And this free access would not last much longer. Knowing her priorities, she then tried to find all files on Knoll. The doctor’s were somewhat more difficult to access, and there was certainly much, much more to them compared with the others.
“Here.” Querrick said, interrupting her.
She jumped with a start to see the Cathar holding out her own holdout blaster and datapad. Items confiscated when they were captured no doubt.
“Oh, thank you.” She said, feeling relieved to have her possessions back.
She also realized this presented a unique opportunity. With her own datapad in hand, she performed a complete transfer of Knoll’s information from the Imperial datapad to her own. There would be no record of Knoll’s information left in the Empire’s databanks. But Sadra would have a copy for herself. And considering just how large the file was, there had to be something of interest there. Something Sadra figured she might want to know.
“Which way from here?” Querrick asked.
Knoll noticed the Cathar was particularly antsy at the moment. Far more on edge than usual. He understood the need to get off of an Imperial Star Destroyer from which they had just escaped its brig, but this seemed something more than that.
“The hangar will be just beyond that door.” Knoll replied.
The doctor was shocked at the ease of their escape. Their path had avoided any possible random patrols, passersby, or even mouse droids. He knew Sadra was good with a datapad, but even she couldn’t have diverted traffic like this. They were simply very, very lucky.
“Two troopers and the captain.” Querrick announced as he peeked his head out the door, “They aren’t looking this way.”
“The ship will be on lock down by now.” Knoll whispered.
“Where’s the console?” Sadra asked.
“Over there.” Knoll pointed into the hangar, some distance away from the ship and the three stormtroopers on guard.
“I can unlock it.” Sadra replied.
“I’m sure you can.” Knoll said, “But we need to keep you out of sight from the guards. I’ll try to talk them into letting us back on, while you get to the console and get the ship unlocked. Butter, you’re with me. Querrick-”
Knoll’s sentence was cut short as he noticed Querrick had already run ahead, slinking behind a nearby crate and readying his rifle.
“Right.” Knoll replied, “Let’s do this.”
As Knoll entered the hangar, the three troopers immediately spotted him. The one with the orange pauldron, pointed his rifle and said, “What the… how did… on the ground! Now!”
“As I tried explaining to you earlier, this was all a mistake, officer, we are free to leave.” Knoll began, continuing his path.
“On the ground! Now!” The captain yelled.
Knoll also noticed he was now pulling out a comlink. Seeing this, he broke into a dash. Reaching the officer, he struck the man in the chest. With a gasp, the trooper dropped the comlink and then dropped to the floor.
The Doc would not be talking his way out of this one. Querrick knew that. He wanted it to go this way. As he had resolved earlier, this fight wasn’t over. Taking aim at the captain on the floor, Querrick took as precise a shot as he could.
The blaster bolt, now set to full power, flew through the air, striking the trooper just under the chin. The bolt tore through the man’s skull, and sent the bloody helmet flying out. The trajectory of the helmet was so well placed, that it flew into the trooper behind the captain, striking him in the groin with such a force that the trooper flew back, landing in a crippled heap on the floor, unable to even let out a scream of pain due to the sheer force and area of the helmet’s flight.
Querrick smiled with a fanged grin, satisfied to finally be getting the upper hand once more.
Butter had seen everything happen, but it occurred almost too quickly even for him to process. There was one thing of which he was certain, though: there was one trooper left standing. Oddly enough, that’s all the stormtrooper was doing. Standing, and… visibly shaking.
Taking advantage of the moment, Butter rushed in to finish off the last trooper. Unfortunately, Butter was not aware of the slippery, slightly yellow liquid pooling around the trooper’s feet. Slipping on the mystery substance, Butter lost his footing. The clothesline punch that was intended for the trooper’s head, was now aimed directly at his knees, as Butter slid on the ground, flying past the terrified trooper.
As he got to his feet, he noticed the target was already dead, a fresh blaster hole square in the trooper’s chest.
With a sigh, Butter turned to the one with severe damage to his lower regions, and grabbed him by the ankle. Lifting the trooper up to eye level, he said, “Tell me how to unlock this ship.”
The trooper gasped and wheezed in high pitched breaths, but did not actually answer his question.
Rolling his eyes once more, he slammed the trooper against the cold hard bay floor, snapping his neck, back, and probably many other bones in the process. Then dropped him back to the floor.
Sadra ran her fingers over the console as quickly as she could. She found record of the Mythosaur on the console’s logs, and like the other records, she swiftly erased them from the ship’s memory banks. No record of the ship being here would exist.
With that done, it was a simple matter to unlock the ship from the simple locking mechanism they had put in place.
With a sigh of relief, she closed the console, and rushed toward the ship’s boarding ramp, where Butter and Querrick already were, lugging the bloodied and beaten corpses of the three stormtroopers.
“Uh… what the hell are you doing?” Sadra asked.
“Their armor is far better than what we have now.” Querrick replied, “It only makes sense to take it for ourselves.”
“I guess…” Sadra replied.
“Plus, it’s always fun to collect a trophy now and then.” Querrick added with a wicked smile.
Sadra fought back a shiver, and headed into the ship. She didn't need to know any more.
While Butter got the ship out of the docking bay, and far away from that damned Star Destroyer, Querrick went to work on the bodies. He stripped them as cleanly as possible, ensuring that the armor was not damaged. The one he shot through the chest would need some work, but that was someone else’s problem. His prize was that of the captain’s armor. Sure, the helmet was nearly unusable, but Querrick had no intention of making use of such an unrefined chunk of a buy’ce. It was bad enough he was considering wearing this… laminate filth… he would not lower himself to wear a bucket on top of it. Disgusted as he was by the idea of wearing the armor, he could not deny that it would be at least slightly better protection than what he currently had.
He then let out a wistful sigh for what he might have had… what he may yet acquire somewhere down the line… He shook his head. Now wasn’t the time for such thoughts. Examining the armor, he decided that it would suffice. For all of them. But they would all need work. No one could simply wear this armor as it was. It would need some serious altering. The last thing they needed was to look like Stormtroopers…
They would need to find an armorer. Someone who was willing to work with this type of stuff. Of course, Querrick knew of at least one. But that was obviously not an option. If it were, none of this would even be an issue. He’d have to settle for something lesser. Surely there was some armorer out there in the Outer Rim who could work the stuff into something usable. For now, he’d have to wait. Stuffing the three sets into a hidden compartment in the cargo hold’s flooring, Querrick then went to work piling the dead, mangled, and now naked Human bodies into the airlock.
“Docking fee’s twenty-five credits. You want refueling, that’s an extra fifty.” The frumpy, middle-aged Human woman said to Knoll as he and the others stepped off the ship, having just arrived in Worlport, on Ord Mantell.
“Seventy-five it is.” Knoll replied, handing her the credits.
“Done.” The woman replied, pocketing the credits, “And don’t bother telling me who you are or what you’re offloading, I don’t wanna know.” She finished, walking off.
“Oh, I like her.” Querrick remarked to Knoll.
Knoll chuckled slightly, and called out, “We’re in need of some grav pallets.”
The woman appeared to sigh, and turned around, saying, “Twenty creds per pallet for the day.”
“We’ll need three.” Knoll replied, handing the woman the credits.
“Fine, do what ya want with ’em. I don’t want to hear about it.” She then walked off, back to her office.
“Oh, I like her a lot.” Querrick remarked again.
After a bit more banter with the docking port woman, Knoll had finally gotten directions to their first delivery point: Wajick’s Woodles. It was a bit of a walk, but the crew didn’t seem to mind. The Cathar in particular seemed eager for the chance to stretch his legs.
After a bit of a hike through a very entertainment focused part of town, the four arrived at the restaurant. From all that Knoll could tell, it was a total dive. But that was hardly any of his business. As they entered, Knoll could spot a Wookie in the back. His hair was trimmed unusually short for a Wookie, what’s more, he was wearing a large white apron with what appeared to be two crossed forks over a bowl of noodles printed on the apron, along with the words “May the forks be with you.” printed underneath in basic.
“Welcome! Welcome! Come in!” The Wookie hollered over the din of the post lunch crowd already seated.
“Er, yes, hello.” Knoll greeted the Wookie, “I assume you’re Wajick?”
“At your service!” Wajick replied with a bow.
“Yes, hello.” Knoll replied again, unused to such a strange Wookie, “Well, we’re with the Good Trader, and-”
“The Good Trader?!” Wajick interrupted, “Is Aklee with you?”
“Er, no, she isn’t.” Knoll replied, “Apparently she got called away on some other, more important job. So she sent us in her stead.”
“Oh! You’re all new to the company, then?” Wajick asked.
“Yes, we are. My name is Knoll.”
“Good to meet ya Knoll!” He said, taking Knoll’s hand in a firm, furry handshake.
“I’m Sadra.” She announced, as the Wookie looked over to her.
“Good to meet ya, Sadra.” Wajick replied, shaking her hand as well.
“Querrick.” The Cathar responded.
“Good to meet you, too.” Wajick said, shaking his hand as well. “And you…” He continued, eyeing Butter, “You look familiar…”
“K-B7R.” Butter replied, “You can call me Butter.”
“Butter?” Wajick asked, a clearly concerned look taking over his normally jovial face, “Butter… Butter… Why does that sound so familiar?”
“Well, I used to be a part of the racing circuit here. Also had my share of shockboxing matches.” Butter explained.
“That’s it!” Wajick nearly shouted, “Wait. Are you with them now? You aren’t just here to collect are you? I pay my dues. We should be square!”
“No, no.” Butter answered, “I work for the Good Trader, now. Nothing more.”
“Oh, good!” Wajick replied, clearly relieved.
Knoll eyed the Wookie then Butter. There was obviously a history between these two, somehow. But he wondered if it was worth getting into. The Wookie clearly seemed none too eager to relive it. Deciding to just finish up this business, Knoll continued, “Anyway, we’ve got a shipment here, for you.”
“Oh, right! The Womp Rats. Take ’em around back. My assistant will help you with the offloading.”
“Whatever you say.” Knoll replied.
Sadra was so done with this job, already. As they were moving the crates around back, they discovered that Wajick’s assistant was none other than yet another Zeltron. This one was a woman named Kuna Dene. She was nice enough. All Zeltron’s were, she thought with a shudder. But of course, this meant that Butter was instantly, and inexplicably, enamored with the woman, and was in the process of asking her whole life story. Sadra, meanwhile, did not care. And it was obvious the other’s didn’t either. With their job of unloading the filthy Womp Rats into the pit finally done, they loaded the empty cages back onto the grav pallets so they could finish their “other” job.
Sadra wasn’t thrilled about the idea of being a common spice mule, but it was good money, and she couldn’t argue with that.
“Before you go.” Kuna called out, “Wajick would like to show you his appreciation. He knows he’s not allowed to pay you more than the measly fifty credits, thanks to Twil’s insistence on the deal. But he’d like to at least treat you all to lunch, if you’re willing.”
Sadra couldn’t deny that even though the place looked like a dive, the food did smell heavenly. And they had been living off of ship rations for a while now. So, she was rather glad to see that the others were in agreement.
When they arrived back in the main restaurant area, Sadra was shocked to see the Wookie hauling out the biggest bowl of noodles she had ever seen.
“Lunch is served!” Wajick declared, with a goofy grin on his face.
The meal was the best food Knoll had had in recent memory, he couldn’t deny that. Despite the fact that Butter insisted the noodles looked too much like entrails. Why he proceeded to slap a chunk of the noodles on his head, letting it sit there even now, though, was beyond Knoll’s understanding.
But, their meal was finished, or, at least, they had finished as much as they could, and they were now on their way to their next delivery.
When they had returned the cages to the ship, the docking port woman handed him a note. She said someone dropped it off for them, while they were away. All the note contained, however, was a set of coordinates. With no other clues, they decided to pursue this.
Off in the distance, they could see a massively large platform made of duracrete, simply sitting in the middle of a desert set in the middle of absolutely nowhere.
They had dropped off Querrick some distance back. He insisted on watching from afar, should anything go awry.
As they landed on the duracrete pad, Knoll noticed that there was no one else around. Not anywhere. On the duracrete, though, were four large yellow squares, painted onto the platform.
“I guess we load the cages onto those squares?” Knoll asked.
“Seems as good a guess as any.” Sadra replied with a shrug.
With the job done, nothing happened. And as they waited, nothing happened still…
After roughly thirty minutes had past, there was still nothing happening. No messages, no clients, nothing. Frustrated, Knoll commed over to Querrick, “Querrick, do you see anything?”
“Negative.” Querrick replied.
Knoll shook his head, “Butter? What about you? The ship’s sensors picking anything up?”
A few moments later Butter walked out of the ship, “Yes, actually. There’s a tracker on our ship. It was placed there when we arrived.”
“What? How?” Sadra asked. She then left to investigate the sensor on the underbelly of the ship. “Huh… looks like there’s some sort of device that slides out from the duracrete and plants the sensor when someone lands.” She called back.
“Then what do we do with it?” Knoll asked.
“They’re obviously waiting for you to leave before making the pick up.” Querrick replied over comms.
“I was told to not part with the goods until we received payment.” Knoll replied.
“Well, unless that tracker moves, nothing is going to happen.” Querrick said, irritated, “So I suggest you do something, and soon, I’ve got sand up my-”
“Okay, okay, I get it.” Knoll cut him off.
“I could remove it. Take it far from here.” Butter offered.
“If you removed it, you would just break it.” Sadra countered, “It requires a gentle touch.”
“I can be gentle!” Butter replied, fake insult heavy in his voice, “Allow me to show you.”
Querrick wiped the sand from his scanner goggles, unsure he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. Staring down the scope of his blaster, he could see Butter dancing with Sadra, twirling and flipping the woman into the air.
Picking up his comlink, he said, “What the hell are you guys doing?”
“I… I don’t even know anymore.” Knoll replied, clearly exasperated.
Querrick sighed and shook his head, “Look. Butter and Sadra, get in the ship and head back to Worlport. With the tracker gone, something will surely happen. Knoll, you’re insistent on meeting with the client, so stick around. I’ll watch your back, and cover you should things get dicey.”
“Sounds like a better plan than what’s going on now.” Knoll agreed.
Butter and Sadra had been back at Worlport for roughly an hour and a half, with still no news of Knoll and Querrick’s success. Butter was getting bored, when suddenly, there was a booming knock coming from the ship’s closed boarding ramp.
Deciding to investigate, Butter headed for the boarding ramp, and opened it, only to reveal a Klatooinian he recognized all too well.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Baruda the Barbarian.” Butter said.
“Hey! Wait. What? Do you know me?” The Klatooinian asked.
Butter cocked his head, “Of course I know you. We fought in the ring. Pummeled you but good.”
Baruda looked even more confused, “The ring? Psh. I wouldn’t ever fight a droid. I’m way above your skill level.”
“I must have hit you harder than I thought.” Butter replied, more to himself than Baruda.
“Butter, what’s going on?” Sadra asked, appearing behind him.
“Oh, hi there!” Baruda said, “Name’s Baruda Ogrokk. I heard rumor that you folks work for the Good Trader?”
“Yes…” Sadra replied, hesitantly.
“Awesome!” Baruda replied, “You know, I used to do a little work for the Good Trader, too, back in the day. Worked right alongside Twil, I did. I was kind of his right hand man, not to brag. Is Twil here? You ever get the chance to work with him? I tell ya, he’s one heck of a Zeltron. Real stand up guy. Except I can’t seem to get a hold of him these days. Any time I try to contact him by holocall or any other way, the line gets disconnected, or I get an error message saying the delivery failed. Or something like that. Really frustrating. But I mean, I guess he’s probably pretty busy what with the Good Trader being as big as it is. I mean, look at you, he’s just hiring new crews and ships left and right it seems. Good for him I say-”
“Excuse me!” Sadra shouted, “What is it you want from us?”
“Oh, right!” Baruda replied, “See, I’m in need of a ship. My ship broke down and I don’t have the time to get it fixed. I’ve got this shipment of Bantha food that I need to get to Tatooine as soon as possible. See, if I fail to deliver this stuff, then my Master, Kaltho the Hutt, will be really mad at me. Not that he’s a bad guy, mind you! In fact, even among Hutts, that one is the best of the best! No Hutt finer in all the galaxy if you ask me. In fact, just the other day-”
“Hey!” Sadra interrupted again, “You think that we’re just gonna haul your crap across the galaxy because you claim to know the owner of the Good Trader?”
“Well, no, of course not, I’m willing to pay you, too!” Baruda continued, “I can pay you good! My master, Kaltho the Hutt, he treats his loyal servants right. Even gives me credits from time to time. And he said that I’m free to spend them how I want, so long as it goes toward serving him, and honestly why would I spend my credits any other way than in the service of such a great master? I tell ya-”
“Deal.” Butter cut in, “You pay us the credits and we’ll take your stuff to Tatooine.”
“Fantastic!” Baruda replied, “See, the thing is, the Bantha food is all set up in my other broken down ship. So I’ll need you fine folks to go get it for me. I’d get it myself, but since you’re now in my employ, it only seems fittig that you experience the joy of serving the mighty Kaltho the Hutt, in at least this limited way. Seriously, there is no greater feeling in all this galaxy than serving such a magnificent being as-”
After three hours of waiting, a ping finally hit Knoll’s datapad. Nothing had changed. Yet, there was suddenly new funds in his account that were not there before.
“Huh…” Knoll replied, grabbing his comlink, he contacted Butter and Querrick simultaneously, informing them that the job was done. What struck him as odd, though, was, that when Butter replied, Knoll could have sworn he heard some other voice in the background. But who could possibly be aboard their ship other than Butter and Sadra…?
The unwanted passenger aboard the Mythosaur had to be the most annoying creature Querrick had ever met. The thing would not stop talking. Even when he was raiding their galley, stuffing his face with their food, he still talked. And there seemed to be nowhere safe for Querrick to escape to. His hammock, was in the wide open cargo bay, normally, not a problem, except for the fact that it was open, which meant that Baruda had free access to it. But even then, it was still inaccessible, due to the fact that whatever the hell they were hauling reeked beyond all words.
“Hey! Cat person! You people have claws don’t you? Can I see them? I’d love to spar with someone like you! I bet you’ve been in a few scrapes in your time. Sure you have, just look at you! So, how about it? One on one? Mano a cato! you and me. Let’s go for it. One nice big fight to-”
“Ne’johaa!” Querrick shouted, “Shut! Up! Stop flapping that hole or I’ll give you a new hole to spew your mindless blathering from!”
Baruda laughed, “Good one, cat guy! But seriously, let’s spar! I’d love to see those claws of yours in action. You know, in working for the mighty Kaltho the Hutt, I’ve seen battles you wouldn’t believe. I tell ya, the things I’ve gotten to do in service of my master, it’s just the best feeling-”
Querrick had had enough. It was bad enough that he was being subjected to this constant barrage of idiocy. But to hear a slave praising its master like they were some sort of god. That was beyond what he was willing to tolerate. He didn’t give a damn about this job or the credits behind it. Pulling out his rifle, he took aim at the moronic creature.
“Oh, yeah? Me too!” Baruda replied, the same stupid smile on his ugly face, as he produced something from the bag he always had slung over his back, “So, where’s the target practice? It’s been a while since I’ve had some proper target shooting with ol’ mama bear here. Yes sir, she-”
Querrick was in shock. The weapon in the Klatooinian’s hands had to be the most heavily modified light repeating blaster he had ever seen. Even more so than the one owned by the Karkarodon he once knew. And that light repeating blaster had been one of the most devastatingly deadly weapons Querrick had ever seen. He could only imagine the destruction the one in the hands of that blithering idiot could cause. Not only to him, but to this entire ship…
With a growl, Querrick stowed his weapon away, and stomped off into one of the spare rooms, and locked the door. With no other choice available to him, he settled on making himself a prisoner once more. It had to be better than being subjected to that di’kut.
After four grueling days of space travel, they had finally arrived at Tatooine. The destination was hardly anything special in Butter’s eyes. Just a tiny, unremarkable farm. Or, what passed for farms on this dust ball of a planet.
“Oh no!” Baruda shouted, running back to the group, “No no no no no no no no no! You guys have to help me! Please! I’ll pay you! I’ll pay you even more! But you gotta help me!”
“Help you with what?” Knoll asked, obviously beyond irritated.
“The Banthas! They got loose somehow! I need you to get them back in the pen! If you don’t, my master… oh, this is bad, this is really bad. I need your help, please!”
“Are you kriffing serious?” Querrick called out, “We’re a delivery company, not bantha herders. You hired us to deliver this foul smelling crap across the galaxy, and it’s done. Our business is done.”
“No, no no! You need to help me! I’ll pay you! And I’ll set up your next job! Please!”
“Piss off.” Querrick replied, heading back to the ship.
“Now hold on.” Butter called out, “Let’s hear what he has to say.”
“Thank you!” Baruda shouted, rushing to Butter, “Look, if you help me get them back, I’ll let you take the shipment of Bantha furs to my master, Kaltho the Hutt, on Kor Gorensla. There could be no higher honor! I’ll even pay you… five-hundred credits.”
“No deal.” Querrick said.
Butter watched the back and forth as Querrick continued to refuse, until finally, Baruda offered thousands of credits. The easiest big score Butter had ever heard, he finally spoke up. “You got a deal. But, you also owe me one other thing.”
“Name it!”
“You will owe me a favor. Sometime in the future. No questions asked.”
Butter watched the Klatooinian squirm, until finally, he said, “Deal!”
“One more condition!” Querrick added.
“What?!” Baruda asked, clearly panicking.
“You don’t come with us. You stay here. And you never set foot on our ship again.” The Cathar said, a deadly glint in his eyes.
“What? But I… I can’t just… Okay! Fine, you got a deal!”
“I’ll need you gun for a moment.” Butter said.
“What for? You can’t shoot them!” Baruda replied.
“No no, you’ll see.” Butter answered.
Baruda looked hesitant, but handed the giant gun over to Butter. Activating his back jet, Butter began rushing towards the Bantha’s shooting wildly in the air, in an attempt to spook them into running back towards their pen.
Querrick saw the droid’s plan, but also saw that the droid had little to no experience in wrangling animals. Querrick’s experience was, admittedly limited. He was usually trying to kill them, but the same principles applied. Eyeing Sadra’s speeder bike in the cargo bay, Querrick let a smile play on his face.
Knoll watched the display with a mixture of amusement and impressiveness. Querrick was surprisingly skilled at herding the giant beasts. Circling them with the speeder bike, he let off warning shots from his rifle at just the right times, forcing them to move quickly yet steadily into the pen. While Butter also succeeded in some respects, he also got rammed more than once by particularly feisty Banthas.
When almost was all said and done, he saw the Klatooinian suddenly appear, with whip in hand, herding the last couple Banthas into the pen and locking it securely.
“Hoo-wee!” He said, panting, “We do some good work, huh? I mean, I did most of the work, but you guys did your part, I guess.”
There was no response from anyone, as they all simply stared at the hated Klatooinian.
“Our payment.” Butter replied.
“Oh, right, here you are.” Baruda said, handing the credits over to Butter, “Payment for that, plus an advance on the next job. You’ll get the remainder from someone over in Kor Gorensla. I called ahead and let you know you were coming. But are you sure I can’t convince you to take-”
Knoll and the others were already on board, and had closed the ship up while the Klatooinian was still rambling away.
“Butter, get us the hell out of here.” Querrick said.
“Will do, but first, Doctor.” He said, turning to Knoll, “I couldn’t help but notice you didn’t really do much during that wrangling event. So… I think I should hold on to your share of the credits.”
Knoll rolled his eyes, “You want my credits Butter? Fine, take them.”
“No, no, no, Doctor.” Butter replied, “That’s no way to respond. I’m trying to teach you something here. You’re too passive! You need to take what you deserve! Try again.”
Knoll shook his head, “This would be so much easier if you weren’t a droid.”
“Come on, Doctor, you can do better than that!”
“Give me my damn credits, Butter!” Knoll shouted in exasperation.
“There ya go!” Butter said, almost as if he were smiling. He then handed Knoll the credits, “You keep working on that.”
Quiet. It was finally quiet. Querrick had never been one to be bothered much by noise, or whatnot. Certainly not with the life he’d lived. But that Klatooinian… that was another story. And to finally have him off their ship was a blessing he never knew he wanted so badly.
But now he was gone. And the wide open, spacious cargo hold was peaceful once more. Things had not been going well ever since that disaster aboard the Star Destroyer. He’d had no time or way to work through his massive failure. And it had been eating away at him for all this time. But now that he was alone and his mind was his own again, he knew he could work through it. But first, there was an even greater concern.
Snuggling into his makeshift hammock, Querrick slept comfortably for the first time in days.
