Revelations of the Crew
Knoll was all too happy to leave that blathering Klatooinian on the dustball known as Tatooine. The creature was a serious detriment to his work, not to mention the stress levels of the entire crew. Except, of course, Butter. At least, he thought. The droid was still an anomaly to Knoll. He was a doctor, a scientist, he never had to work too closely with droids. Certainly not with any droids with an AI like Butter’s. But that was an issue he would deal with later. For now, all Knoll wanted to do was get back to his own research.
Pulling out the vials of the strange pinkish-purple substance, Knoll quickly got to work. He had analyzed the Zeltron pheromones fully at this point. But he wanted more. He wanted to see if he could synthesize the material. If he could pull that off, then the possibilities with the pheromone would be endless.
As Knoll got to work, however, he was suddenly reminded that the lab he was in currently, was little more than a cheap imitation of a true lab. The equipment he had on board was sufficient to seeing to the needs of the crew, but little else.
With a heavy sigh, Knoll placed the vial back into storage. And, for a brief moment, Knoll yearned for the life he’d had. Then shook his head, realizing what a foolish thing that was for him to wish.
Deciding to clear his head, Knoll left the medbay, and headed towards the lounge. Much to his surprise, the others were all already there. Eating breakfast. At least, Querrick and Sadra were eating. Butter was simply standing there.
Deciding there was no time like the present, Knoll spoke up, “Butter, can we talk?”
“You are talking now.” Butter replied, matter-of-factly.
“No, I mean…” Knoll made an unintelligible sound, shook his head, and continued, “Look, I need to make something clear with you. As you might have noticed, the Empire knows who I am. But, they think I’m dead now. I would like to keep it that way. So, if, in the future, you could avoid pulling stunts like you did with that Star Destroyer on Ord Mantell, that would be very much appreciated.”
“Stunts?” Butter asked.
“I mean, I don’t want to have the Empire looking into this ship, into us. So, the next time we reach an Imperial check point, avoid drawing attention to ourselves. Don’t give them reason to pull us into another Star Destroyer.”
“Understood.” Butter replied nonchalantly.
“About that.” Sadra interrupted, “Why is the Empire so interested in you?”
Knoll turned to look at the Elomin, and said, “Like was discussed, I used to work for them. I was a science officer, specializing in alien neurology and biology. As an Arkanian, the Empire saw my value, and hired me to work for them. After a while, I decided I wanted to end my work with them, and when I saw my chance, I took it.”
“Well.” Sadra continued, “As far as the Empire is concerned, Knoll Din doesn’t exist. I wiped your records clean. You didn’t just ‘die.’ You were never alive in the first place, as far as they know.”
“Except that one guy in the brig.” Querrick quipped.
“One man’s tall tale won’t get far in the Empire.” Knoll replied. Relieved to hear what Sadra had done.
The doctor wasn’t being very forthcoming, Sadra knew this. She had seen the files. She had copies of them all. Yes, she deleted them from the Empire’s records, but she never said that didn’t mean there were no records left at all.
Problem was, she couldn’t make sense of most of it. What the doctor said, was, technically, the truth, but there was something more to it all. So why tell her what he has, but not everything else?
There were too many mysteries going on for her lately. Ever since her departure from Nar Shaddaa. This crew… the doctor with an incredibly shady past working with Imps. The strange Imperial droid with a clearly criminal past that would probably make a Hutt blush. And the tiny Cathar with marksmanship that would rival the most highly decorated of soldiers. They were all mysteries.
Then there was the company she was suddenly employed by, the Good Trader. Sadra had lost count of all the mysteries surrounding that entity. Nothing about it seemed like on the up and up. But then, there was Aklee. Who was she? And how had she known Sadra? Was she the one responsible for that business on Nar Shaddaa? And what was that business on Nar Shaddaa. She was in danger, that much was for certain. But from what? Was someone on this crew to blame? Someone in the Good Trader? Too many mysteries. Too many questions.
“We will be arriving at Kor Gorensla in two days from now.” Butter interrupted her thoughts, as the droid left for the cockpit.
And plenty of time to stew on them, she thought to herself.
As the ship arrived in Kor Gorensla, Querrick prepared himself for what he knew would be an excruciating day. He was no stranger to working with Hutts. They were his least favorite clientele. Bloated criminal overlords that paraded their power at every opportunity. A simple drop off was usually irritating enough, but what was worse, that di’kut Klatooinian had set them up as “dinner guests.” A Hutt feast… Querrick retched at the thought.
Upon landing, Querrick and the others were greeted by an obnoxious Dugg named Chuwunga. He quickly got the bantha pelts offloaded from the Mythosaur and just as quickly ushered the crew into the Hutt’s palatial courtyard, where the festivities were in full swing.
Querrick rolled his eyes at the sight. Aliens of all sorts, dressed up in clothing that would be too fancy even for some core world opera, much less this cesspool in the Outer Rim, hobnobbing with other obvious thugs and criminals, feasting on food worth more than their ship (most of which likely to end up in a dumpster after the party), and drinking toxic swill that no doubt was more potent than normal.
Gal, ori’skraan, riduur, yaim’ dab’ika. Querrick knew the phrase well. But he never took to it. It was all such waste. And it dulled the senses. The last thing a warrior needed was to be too full to move, and too drunk to react.
As Querrick rolled his eyes at the sight, once more, something caught his attention. A symbol. An insignia. An insignia he knew all too well. Plastered onto the shoulder pads of a Human woman he did not recognize at all. Immediately, Querrick’s irritation transformed into deadly instinct. Who was this woman? Why is she here? And why is she wearing that?
“This is all so fancy!” Knoll overheard Sadra express as she wandered into the courtyard, eager to mingle and enjoy the festivities.
Knoll smiled, at least someone knew how to enjoy themselves on this ship. The Cathar had a sour look on his face ever since they arrived, and now, he was gone. Knoll wasn’t really paying him much attention, all he knew was that one moment, he was side by side, then the next, vanished. But, he was not the ship’s security officer’s keeper, what he did here was his own business. Knoll had business of his own.
It was not difficult to find his goal. Kaltho the Hutt was smack dab in the middle of it all, surrounded by well wishers and hangers on. Knoll watched as Kaltho greeted them all in turn, conversing, and often laughing. A booming, loud laugh that could be heard almost anywhere in the courtyard. The Hutt was in a good mood. Good.
As Knoll drew closer, though, he noticed something else entirely, something he was not expecting. A child Hutt. Although far larger than most younglings, Knoll could tell that this thing was still in its infancy. Curious. He had not heard of Kaltho siring an heir. But, there was plenty about the Hutts that Knoll still had yet to learn. It was his hopes that today might change that, even a little.
Noticing a lull in the conversation, Knoll took his chance, and inserted himself into the audience of Kaltho, and said, “Greetings, mighty Kaltho, I would like to thank you for inviting me and my crew to this lovely soiree. Permit me to introduce myself, I am Dr. Knoll Din, of the Good Trader.”
“Ahhh!” Kaltho started, followed by a roll of laughter, “Dr. Din! Baruda sent word about you and your crew! I must thank you for pulling that idiot’s backside out of the fire. Honestly, I don’t know why I even keep him on the payroll.” This was followed by another series of laughs. Knoll noticed that the gaggle of hangers on were laughing too, almost sounding forced. He then continued, “You say you are from the Good Trader?”
“I am, good sir.” Knoll replied.
“Quite the company there! Good old Twil. I’ve had my ups and downs with him and his people in the past. But right now, I’d say we’re on the up.” Again, more laughter, although Knoll wasn't sure where the joke was. “So, Doctor, tell me, what is it you do for the Good Trader?”
“Well.” Knoll started, “I am the ship’s doctor. I see to the crew’s medical needs, such as they are. But I’m also highly specialized in neurology. That’s where my true passions lie, truth be told. And if you are a friend to the Good Trader, I would be happy to offer you my services, should you ever need them.”
At this, something in Kaltho’s eyes seemed to twinkle, “You don’t say.” He said, rubbing his many chins, “I may need them, in fact.” He then gestured to somewhere behind Knoll, and said, “Actually, doctor, if you would not mind, I would like very much for you to go with my guards here. There are some things in my palace that I think you would find quite interesting, and I would love your opinion on them.”
Knoll was suddenly surrounded by two Gamorrean guards, one on each side of him, standing uncomfortably close. Noting this, he said, “It would be my pleasure Kaltho.” And began to follow his escorts toward the palace proper.
Butter had just finished bussing his third tray of empty glasses and plates full of half eaten food to the palace kitchens. He wasn't sure exactly how it started, but he had somehow been misconstrued as part of the Hutt’s wait staff. He had no desire to ruffle any feathers here, so his programming led him to what he should do, blend in.
As he was heading back out to serve more of Kaltho’s guests, he heard shouting from the Ortolan chef in the background. As Butter turned to see what was the cause of all the commotion, he saw an army of Weequay thugs forcing themselves through the kitchens, and out into the courtyard.
As Butter followed, out of curiosity, he heard one of the thugs shouting, “Give us what you owe, Kaltho! Or die!”
This was followed by laughter, and the voice of Kaltho replying, “I owe you nothing.”
Then, the unmistakable sound of blasterfire.
What happened? Querrick was unable to process this. One minute, it was just another boring Hutt party, then, suddenly, things got fun. Weequay thugs were shooting up the place. Most were aiming their sights on Kaltho and his bloated larva. But others were simply firing randomly into the crowd. Which meant that the crew was in danger. Which meant Querrick finally had a proper job to do.
Taking in the scene around him, he saw a number of problems. They were far outmatched. As Weequay seemed to be popping up out of thin air. Knoll and Sadra were together at least, along with a number of useless Gamorreans. Butter seemed to be holding his own, with four Weequay surrounding the giant robot. But, more pressing were the four snipers up on top of the palace walls. Most currently aiming their sights on Kaltho and the guards, but Querrick knew that could change at any moment.
Kneeling to the ground, Querrick took aim at the closest sniper. He was dead before he could even pull out his weapon. The second sniper seemed to be aiming at either the Hutt youngling, or at Knoll, Querrick couldn’t be sure from this angle. Taking careful aim, he pulled the trigger. The bolt tore through the rival sniper’s own scope, striking him right through the eye, killing him, right as he pulled off a shot of his own. The shot, obviously, went wild, striking a Weequay assaulter nearby Knoll. Querrick couldn’t help but smile at the luck of that shot. He then got to work taking care of the other snipers.
Butter was unsure of how he found himself in the situation that he did. But his programming told him what he needed to know. Seeing the closest Weequay to him, Butter took the serving platter currently in his hands, and sent it careening at the attacker. The platter hit with such force that it lodged itself into the head of the Weequay, killing it dead.
With one, down, Butter went to work on the next. Activating his servo boosters and vibro-knuckles, Butter flew at the next attacker. The force of his punch caused the ugly alien’s head to fly clean off its body.
The fight was pure chaos. Knoll was conflicted on where his attention should even be spent. The child had been hit. Possibly multiple times at this point. So had Kaltho, although he seemed to be well enough, as he was quickly making his way to the safety of his palace. Knoll and Sadra were somewhat surrounded by Weequay, but due to their proximity to the child, there were also plenty of Gamorreans around to protect them. Even if the guards were dropping like flies.
After doing a quick stimpack injection into the child, Knoll focused his attention on the closest attacker. With a swift chop to the shoulder, he severed the Weequay’s nerves, rendering his arm utterly useless. With another swift jab, he stopped the creature’s heart, dropping it to the ground.
He then turned to the next attacker, but he dropped just then, a small blaster hole through his forehead. He turned to see a clearly shaken Sadra, holding her blaster out in front of her. He tried to reassure her, by smiling, and giving a slight nod.
Six more shots and the fight was over. The other’s obviously had held their own, leaving Querrick with little left to do, but take out the remaining snipers and others that were out of reach of the other crew members.
As things were settling down, Querrick noticed one of the Hutt’s entourage came back out, expressing their gratitude to Knoll and Sadra. Querrick couldn’t care less, and simply headed back to the ship. The party was over, they could finally leave.
As he waited in the ship, the others finally came aboard. However, Knoll was handling something, and discussing with the others what to do about it.
“What’s up?” Querrick asked.
“I’m not sure.” Knoll replied, “I found this in my pocket just now. It’s a datachip of some sort.”
“Well, give it here.” Sadra replied, “No sense wondering.” As Sadra plugged the chip into one of her spare datapads, she said, “Huh. It’s a job request. Pick up coordinates. Drop off coordinates. and a reply option, yes or no.”
“Well that’s shady as hell.” Querrick replied.
“I would like to accept the job.” Butter interrupted.
“We don’t even know what the job is.” Querrick shot back.
“Credits are credits.” Butter replied.
“Not if those credits are from Hutts.” Querrick replied, “They can’t be trusted.”
“We don’t know who its from.” Sadra countered, “The pick up is here. The drop off is Ord Mantell.”
“I don’t think it’s smart accepting a job, if we don’t even know who its from.” Querrick replied.
After some time spent arguing, the crew eventually decided on contacting Janrose, the only person in the company they actually knew how to get a hold of. After discussing the matter with them, Janrose explained that jobs like that happen all the time, and are usually harmless. And so, after picking up the cargo, sealed wooden barrels, they were off to Ord Mantell.
After some finagling with the barrels, Knoll discovered that they were full of some sort of powder made primarily from ground up Bantha parts. Why anyone would do such a thing, or need to have it shipped secretly was beyond him, but like Querrick had pointed out before, it was not really his place to care.
What he should care about, and did was the crew. And he was making great attempts to show that. Unfortunately, his first attempts during the trip seemed to have failed quite spectacularly. In an attempt to open up to Butter, to show that he cared about the droid as a person, not just a thing, the droid came off as ambivalent, even confused. And so, he decided maybe a group approach would be more successful.
Gathering everyone into the galley, Knoll began, “Look, so… we’ve been together for a while now. I think we need to get something out in the open already. What is it that everyone is running from?”
“I am not running from anything.” Butter replied, “I am piloting this ship to Ord Mantell, to deliver barrels of Bantha powder.”
“And your past is of no concern to you, Butter?” Knoll asked, unconvinced.
“My past is my past. This is my present. What do the two things have anything to do with each other?” Butter replied.
“Just based on your previous statements and behaviors… Seems to me like you’ve had quite the criminal history.”
“History. Yes.” Butter replied, staring vacantly.
Knoll sighed, and turned to Querrick, “And how about you? What are you running from? What are you trying to escape?”
Querrick gave Knoll a look and said, “What makes you think I’m running from something?”
“Just from my observations.” Knoll replied.
“And what have you observed? What do you think I’m running from?”
“My best guess, some sort of figurative Mythosaur.”
At this, the Cathar burst out into laughter, and said, “Do you even know what a Mythosaur is?”
“From what little I’ve heard, it was a gigantic, now extinct,reptilian beast, once found on the planet Mandalore?”
Querrick smiled at this, baring every one of his razor sharp fangs and said, “Well done Doc, so, what does that tell you?”
“It tells me you’re running from something that’s not as big as you think it is.”
Querrick shook his head, “No, no. I mean what does that tell you? You know what the Mythosaur is. What does that tell you about me? Surely you must have theories.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.” Knoll replied.
“The Mythosaur is a Mandalorian legend. I would think that you then would assume I am…?” Querrick said, leading the doctor.
“What?” Knoll asked, “I thought Mandalorians were all Human. Besides, you said you grew up on Rishi, not Mandalore.”
“I did. And no, Mandalorian is not a race. It’s certainly not exclusive to Humans. Mandalorian is a creed. A religion. A way of life. Anyone raised in its customs, or anyone proven worthy, who lives by the code, can become a Mandalorian.
“I think, I should just start from the beginning. It’ll be clearer that way.” Querrick said, shaking his head, not eager to relive it, “When I was a cub, before I even opened my eyes, I was on Cathar. However, my time there was very short. My family, my blood family, they were attacked by a clan of Mandalorians. They fought bravely. But lost.
“Only one survived the battle. A Human by the name of Jaffar Balor. He found me in the aftermath, and he took me. Adopted me. Took me on as a “foundling.” All my life, I was trained in the ways of the warrior. I was trained to fight. To kill. To live life by the Mandalorian’s code. It was their way. But it was not mine. Balor used me. I was nothing more than a tool. A weapon. I was less than a slave. For seventeen years, that was the only life I knew. Until recently, when I saw a chance for escape. And I took it.”
“Wow…” Knoll replied, “So, you’re running from a bunch of angry mandalorians?”
“I’m not running from them.” Querrick corrected, “I’m running to something else. Their way was not mine. I’m running to find my own way. My own path. Not from, towards.”
“I see.” Knoll replied, “And what about you Sadra?”
“Well…” Sadra began, “I am running from something. Problem is, I don’t know what it is.”
“Huh?” Querrick asked.
“I was working on Nar Shaddaa, when I received an anonymous tip. I was in danger, and I was told to run. To get away. I found passage on the Titan, and, well, here I am.”
“Odd…” Knoll replied, not certain if Sadra was giving the full story.
“So, to recap.” Querrick cut in, “We’re a delivery crew. Just a simple cargo freighter. Yet, we might be on the hit lists of a pissed off Mandalorian clan, the Empire, any number of criminal empires, including Hutts, and some unknown entity?”
“Sounds about right.” Knoll replied.
“Sounds like fun.” Querrick replied, smiling wide again.
