Revelations of the Good Trader
As Querrick finished pushing in the last crate to Lagooda’s robotics specialty shop, he muttered his annoyance that the droid wasn’t helping them with this massive shipment.
Speaking of the droid, glancing into the back room, he could see that the Ardennian was putting the finishing touches on him now. What really caught his eye was where the alien was putting said touches.
“Okay, you’re all set Butter.” Lagooda half shouted, no doubt temporarily deafened by the noise of her own work.
Querrick watched as Butter got to his feet, somewhat unstably at first.
“Why don’t you give it a try? Test it out!” Lagooda offered excitedly.
Butter looked down at the Ardennian, then forward, directly at Querrick. Or, at least, overhead of Querrick. The Cathar didn’t come close to the giant droid’s height.
Querrick watched with odd curiosity as he saw Butter’s hips and hindquarters, or, whatever the droid terms were for those parts of his frame, shifted and moved in unnatural ways. From this angle, it was hard to tell, but it seemed as if something was now protruding out of his backside. Querrick tilted his head in confusion, attempting to decipher just what the mechanic had done. But his time spent thinking was immediately cut short, as the sound of what could only be a jet engine started whirring to life.
Mere seconds later Querrick found himself jumping out of the way as a now slightly hovering Butter was flying toward him at mach speeds. As Querrick, now on the floor, whipped his head around, he could see the droid speeding through the streets, mere inches off the ground. After traveling almost out of sight, the droid quickly made a U-turn and returned to the shop in mere seconds.
Pulling up to a stop just in front of Lagooda, the jet engine turbine retracted back into his body. With the same passionless face he always had, Butter then said, “The upgrades are satisfactory.”
Lagooda laughed, thumped Butter’s back, and said, “Damn right they are!” She then turned her attention towards Sadra and said, “Hey, missy, you look like the type that has some aptitude for machines, am I right?”
“I know a bit.” Sadra replied hesitantly.
“Great!” Lagooda boomed again, “Take these schematics here. I’ll show ya how it all works in case he ever needs some repairs. You take good care of this one, he’s something special.”
“That’s one word for it.” Querrick muttered under his breath, getting up off the floor and dusting himself off.
As Sadra left with the others, she couldn’t help but feel a little concern. She was a tech junkie. Computers, datapads, slicing and hacking. That was her bread and butter. Butter, droids, and mechanics in general, however, were not. She knew enough to get by, but she was hopeful that the droid would not suddenly start turning to her to fix him every time he got damaged. That’s not why she took on this job. And once again, she wished that Orlana had joined them on their new ship. Having a dedicated mechanic onboard would have saved her a great deal of stress.
As they approached the spaceport, however, her thoughts were cut short, as she spotted a human woman standing on top of a speeder, waving her hands in the air, clearly trying to get the group’s attention.
Curious, Sadra and the others greeted the mystery woman.
“You’re the new recruits, right? K-B7R, Sadra Vesh, Dr. Knoll Din, and Querrick… Q’intaro?” She said in greeting, butchering the Cathar’s name, “Janrose said I’d find you here. My name’s Captain Aklee, good to meet you.”
“So, you work for the Good Trader, too?” Querrick asked.
“Work for it? I practically run it.” Aklee answered with a laugh, “Well, I work under the owner of the Good Trader, technically.”
“Translation: she’s sleeping with the owner of the Good Trader.” Sadra thought to herself, rolling her eyes.
“And just who is this elusive owner?” Knoll asked, “Janrose mentioned him a number of times, but we never got any details.”
“Oh, really?” Aklee asked, clearly confused, “Did Janrose not explain anything?”
“She gave us that ship and sent us on our way.” Sadra answered.
“Hmm.” Aklee replied, “Well, here’s the basic rundown: as new employees of the Good Trader, it’s obviously your job to ship cargo across the galaxy. We’ll always provide jobs for you, but the more jobs you find on your own, the more money we all make. The company takes twenty percent off the top of any earnings. But the rest is yours to divvy up as you like. Naturally, you should reserve some credits for ship maintenance and repairs, that kind of stuff. But really, it’s mostly up to you. You find your own success. Our owner is pretty hands off these days.
“Oh, right, you asked about him. Well, technically there are two owners. There’s the founder and ‘head honcho,’ a Zeltron by the name of Twil Pinn. And the one who really runs the show, maintains the books, and generally ensures the company is on the up and up, a Twi’lek named Idozzi Vas.”
“A Zeltron?!” Butter cut in, “I must meet him. I must meet the Twil.”
Aklee looked at the droid and laughed, saying, “Okay there big guy. I’m sure Twil would love to meet all of you, in time. If it helps, you can read some of his books, in the mean time, give you an idea of what kind of person he is.”
“Books?” Sadra asked.
“Oh, yeah, guy fancies himself some sort of author. I can send you all electronic copies, if you want.”
“Yes!” Butter exclaimed.
“There you are.” She said, swiping at her datapad, “ You should all have copies now. Unfortunately, that’ll have to hold you over for now. The boss man is… away. And I’m not sure when he’ll be back. Kinda why I’m here now, instead of him. I’m here to give you your next assignment, and to catch a ride with you fine folks back to Coruscant.”
“Coruscant?” Knoll asked.
“Yup, that’s where our main headquarters are located.” Aklee answered, “We had some… trouble, a little while back. But yeah, I’ve got a shipment back there waiting to be picked up. I don’t have the time or means to take care of it myself, so I’m really glad you guys are here now. It’s going to make my life, and my other work, so much easier.”
Sadra caught that slip and wondered to herself, just what was this “other work?” There was more to this human than met the eye, that much was certain. She would just have to keep an eye on her, she supposed.
“Well, then, let’s get heading out.” Sadra replied, eager to see this main headquarters, and to see what she could learn of her new employers.
“So, K-B7R.” Aklee began.
“Butter.” Butter replied.
“Sorry?”
“I prefer to be called Butter.”
Aklee let out a slight laugh and said, “Butter it is. So, Butter, Janrose told me that you were freed of servitude, that you’re a free droid. The Good Trader has worked with droids in similar situations before, but you seem much more interested in credits than most, according to Janrose.”
“I have never had credits of my own before.” Butter answered.
“It’s a nice feeling, eh?”
Butter considered these words, “Yes.”
“Hey, I know Twil, and he’s never had a problem with droids on the staff before. On the payroll, that’s different, but I’m sure he’ll be okay with it.”
Hearing this, Butter was instantly reminded of the Zeltron and the books he wrote, which Butter had already processed and read over a dozen times each, now, “When will I be able to meet this Twil? I would like very much to meet the Twil of the Good Trader.” He did his best to express his interest, but in hearing that he was working for a Zeltron, it was unacceptable that he had yet to meet his new boss. He very much needed to meet this Zeltron.
“In time, I’m sure.” Aklee answered, “Truth be told, I’m not entirely sure where he is, or when he’ll be back, unfortunately.”
This caused Butter no end of anguish. He did not like waiting. He did not like waiting for unknown amounts of time, even more.
“So, just out of curiosity, what does a droid, er, what do you intend to use your newfound credits for?” Aklee asked.
Butter perked up almost instantly and said, “I have found upgrades to be a very good use of credits.”
“Upgrades?” Aklee asked.
“Observe.” Butter replied. Getting to his feet, Butter opened the door to the bridge, and activated his new servo booster. Flying down the hall, Butter almost crashed into the other end of the ship, but was able to pull a hard stop. Turning back towards the bridge, Butter sped back to a hysterical Aklee.
After she had finally recovered from her fit of laughter, she said, “I like you Butter! You remind me of some other droids I’ve met.”
“I like you as well, Capatin Aklee.” Butter replied, “You remind me of no Human I have ever met.”
Giving the droid a smile, she continued, “Well, much as I’d love to chat with you all day, I think I should go have a talk with your fellow crewmates.”
“As you wish.” Butter replied, “I shall be in the engine room, practicing with my upgrades.”
Aklee just smiled again, and left the bridge, heading towards Sadra’s room.
Knoll’s patience was wearing thin, as his work and concentration was constantly being interrupted by that droid playing with his new upgrades. The ship was large, but not large enough to cover the sound of his crashing into the walls and who knows what else.
Pressing against his temples, and sighing, he was contemplating going back into the engine room and telling the droid to keep it down, when he was suddenly interrupted by a new noise. A knock on the medbay doors.
“Enter.” He answered, attempting to settle his temper.
He was somewhat surprised to see that it was the newcomer, Aklee, who entered the medbay, closing the doors behind her. “Sorry to disturb you, Dr. Din, but I was curious if you could take a look at something for me.”
Knoll watched as the Human walked in, and slowly stripped off her coat and shirt, revealing a very nasty looking wound that had been poorly bandaged up.
“Oh dear.” His instincts as a healer immediately kicked in, leaving his past annoyances to disappear, “And just how did this happen, if I may ask?”
Aklee let out a strained laugh, as Knoll began removing the shoddy bandage work, and said, “Let’s just say, working for the Good Trader puts you in unique situations.”
Knoll raised an eyebrow at the statement as he continued to treat the wound, “I would think cargo delivery would be a relatively safe line of work.”
Again Aklee laughed, “You would think so, wouldn’t you? But sometimes, what we deliver, or who we need to deliver to leaves us in unintentionally dangerous situations. And sometimes getting to the delivery site requires us to go through dangerous areas.”
“Indeed.” Knoll replied.
“Mind if I ask you something?” Aklee aksed.
“You may.” Knoll replied, applying bacta, now.
“You don’t seem the type to take on this kind of work.” Aklee said, “An Arkanian like you… you kind of stick out like a sore thumb among the rest of this crew. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m loving this crew so far, and I’m very glad you’re here. Force knows we could use another properly trained medic on the staff. Particularly one that’s less… intimidating to look at.”
Again, Knoll’s curiosity raged at the Human’s comments, but he picked up on the real question easy enough. “This is indeed an odd situation for me.” Knoll answered, “I had a different life, once. A good job and state of the art facilities. But, things change. And now I’m here.”
“Fair enough.” Aklee replied.
“That should just about do it.” Knoll said, wrapping the freshly treated wound in proper bandaging.
“Thanks.” Aklee replied, putting her clothes back on.
“My pleasure.” Knoll answered, eyeing the woman with suspicion. There was more to that wound than she was letting on. And her answers left a lot to be desired. He hoped there would be an opportunity to speak with her further, after he had time to process their first conversation.
Querrick was in the cargo bay, as per usual, working up a decent sweat. He enjoyed exercise. It was familiar, comforting. It kept his head clear of unnecessary thought and it killed time in a useful manner. If he was now doomed to a life of downtime aboard this ship, he would see to it that the time was spent productively.
Making use of a conveniently placed bar, Querrick was hanging by his legs, upside down, performing a series of hanging sit ups. Upon finishing one of his many reps, he spotted the Human, Aklee, wandering into the cargo bay. She didn’t seem to pay much attention to Querrick, which suited the Cathar just fine. But he did watch on the tail end of his reps as the Human began lugging three crates to the far side of the cargo bay.
After positioning them in a seemingly abstract manner, she walked to the other end of the bay, looked over at Querrick, and shouted (due to distance), “Let’s see what you got, kid.”
Upon hearing this, Querrick stopped his exercising, but still hanging upside down, he looked at the Human and cocked his head, “Huh?” He asked.
“Janrose told me you’re quite a shot. If you’re the new security officer, I’d like to see what you can do.” Aklee hollered, pointing towards the crates on the far end.
Querrick shrugged, and in one fluid motion, flipped off the bar, and landed on his feet. Not bothering to get dressed, he simply picked up his rifle, and headed towards the human.
Now in position, Querrick took aim at the three small cargo containers. As he took his first shot, a drop of sweat fell into his eye, causing him to jerk ever so slightly. His bolt flew stray, and just barely nicked the first container, causing it to simply rock back and forth.
“Haar’chak!” He cursed, as he wiped the sweat away. Angry at himself for making such a rookie mistake.
“Next one.” Aklee said, off to his side.
Querrick didn’t look at the human, but her voice betrayed neither hints of irritation or disappointment. Not that her reactions meant much to him.
Still upset with himself, Querrick took aim at the second container. Ensuring no screw ups this time, he took his shot. In an instant the container shattered to pieces. Taking satisfaction in his hit, he quickly took aim at the third, leaving it in a similar mess.
“Two out of three… not bad. Pretty good distance too.” Aklee said, still looking at the crates on the far end.
Querrick wasn’t really looking for praise, though. And the Human’s words meant little to him. He had a task, and he failed, in missing that first shot. That was all there was too it. He forgot a fundamental rule, and he screwed up. He would take this lesson to heart.
“So.” Aklee began, finally turning to face Querrick, “How do you enjoy working for the Good Trader as a security officer so far?”
“It’s different.” Querrick answered honestly, “But it’s been good work so far. I get to use my skills and get paid for it. Can’t complain.”
“You’re a pretty good shot.” Aklee continued, “But what do you do when someone’s too close for you to use that fancy rifle of yours?”
Querrick flashed a fang filled grin and said, “I have my ways.” He then lifted his free hand, and extended his claws.
“Oh, so, you people really do have claws?” She asked, “Sorry, it’s just, I’ve never met one of you before. This is just really interesting. Not to offend.”
Querrick shrugged in response. The Human’s fascination with “his people” was nothing new to him. He was an “alien.” And a somewhat rare one at that, thanks to the Empire, apparently. But that kind of stuff meant little to him.
“I think it’s safe to say that you’ll do well in protecting this crew.” Aklee said, more to herself than him, “That’s good. But I would like to ask you one other favor.”
“Shoot.” Querrick replied.
“Keep a list of enemies you encounter.” Aklee ordered.
“Why?” Querrick asked, confused. A dead enemy was not anything worth remembering, in his opinion.
“It’s just good practice.” Aklee explained, “Twil likes to know who’s gunning for him and his people. He likes to know who can be dealt with, who will double cross us, who can be reasoned with, who needs to be put down, and who has been put down.”
“Oh, well, in that case, I’ve got a few names for you already.” Querrick replied.
“Oh?”
“Sure. Let’s see… there was that Rodian on Jakku… Kello. And the Imperial agent, Frank Gunn. But I’m sure Janrose told you about them already.”
“She did.” Aklee replied.
“In addition to that… that Ardennian, Lagooda, she had trouble with some local gang on Corellia. The Red Devils. We took care of them for her.”
“The Red Devils?” Aklee asked, “I’ve heard of them. How did you take care of them, exactly?”
Querrick let out a slight laugh and said, “Any one of those Devaronians that didn’t meet their end by my rifle were crushed by their own doors.”
“Uh, come again?” Aklee asked, “You crushed them with doors?”
Querrick shook his head, “Not me, the droid.”
Aklee then laughed in turn, saying, “I see.”
“I don’t have much hands on experience with droids, but that one seems to have some especially odd quirks.” Querrick continued, “I’m guessing he has quite the history. Especially considering his make.”
“That he does.” Aklee replied, “Anyone else?”
Querrick considered his next answer carefully, and said, “Yeah… a bounty hunter by the name of Dooga Jet.”
“Oh, no…” Aklee replied.
“But, like everyone else on the list, he was taken care of.” Querrick continued.
“How so?”
Querrick shrugged, “Used this ship’s quad laser to blast him and his ship to smithereens. He won’t be bothering the Good Trader anymore, I think.”
“I see.” Aklee said, “Well, it seems Janrose got lucky in finding such an efficient protector for this ship. I look forward to working with you in the future.”
“Sure thing.” Querrick replied, nodding.
As he watched the Human exit the cargo bay, Querrick put his rifle away, and continued his work out routine. He wasn’t sure about her angle, yet, but he decided he liked Aklee well enough. There were certainly worse people to work for, he figured.
“Hey Butter!” Aklee called out as Butter zoomed past her, completely oblivious to her presence before now.
“Oh, Captain Aklee.” Butter greeted her, disengaging the servo booster, “Was there something else you needed?”
“I hear you’ve got a rather unique fighting style. Like, crushing gang thugs with doors.” Aklee continued.
“Indeed!” Butter said, excitedly, “Would you like a demonstration?” He asked, as he headed towards one of the engine room doors.
“No, no!” Aklee cried out, “That won’t be necessary. I would like to see how you handle yourself in hand to hand combat, though.”
“Truly?” Butter asked, almost deviously.
“Sure, let’s see what you got.”
“Very well, take your best shot.” Butter replied.
“Wait, you mean, hit you?” Aklee asked.
“Indeed.” Butter answered, “If you can.”
Aklee shrugged, “You asked for it.”
At a speed and with a force Butter was not remotely expecting, Aklee struck Butter square in the face, causing him to stumble backwards in shock. As his photoreceptors readjusted, he could see Aklee laughing.
“Not what you were expecting?” She asked.
Butter shook his head, “You have skill.” He said appreciatively.
“I’ve learned a move or two in my time.” Aklee said, rubbing her hand, “I’d be happy to show you some pointers, if you’d like.”
“That would be most satisfactory.” Butter replied, excited.
“Alright!” Aklee shouted, excitedly, “Just give me a minute, first.”
Butter watched as the Human left towards the droid repair bay. As she returned, her hands were covered in what looked to be makeshift durasteel boxing mitts. “Okay, let’s do this!”
After a few hours of hand to hand sparring, Aklee finally called it off, saying, “Alright, alright, that’s enough for one day, I think.”
Butter was disappointed, but he understood that Humans did not have the same endurance as droids. So, he let up, and allowed the Human to catch her breath.
“You’re not too shabby, Butter.” Aklee said, wiping sweat from her brow.
“I may have spent some time in the galactic shockboxing circuit.” Butter replied, in an attempt to act coy.
“No kidding!” Aklee replied, “One of the Good Trader’s former employees left to pursue a career in the galactic shockboxing circuit.”
His curiosity piqued, Butter asked, “Oh? What was his name?”
“Let’s see…” Aklee had to think, “He was a Klatooinian. I think, in the ring, he called himself ‘Baruda the Barbarian.’”
Now it was Butter’s turn to laugh uncontrollably, “That weakling?! It is a good thing for your company, I think, that he no longer works for you.”
“What do you mean, weakling?” Aklee asked, “The way he told the story, he was pretty good.”
“I have never seen a poorer performance in the ring than when I faced off against him.” Butter replied.
“How bad was he?”
“May I?” Butter asked, pointing to one of the now heavily dented makeshift gloves. Aklee handed it over, Butter took it in both hands, and said, “Imagine this is your ‘Baruda.’” He then tore it in two, held it behind himself, and activated his servo booster, allowing the flames to melt the scrap into nothing.
“That bad, huh?” Aklee asked.
“Worse.” Butter replied.
Heading to the ship’s galley, Querrick found a very worn and sweat covered Aklee draped over one of the chairs, her head lolling back, staring at the ceiling. He figured she had been sparring with Butter, due to the clanging and clattering that echoed throughout the ship. Turns out he was right.
“Hey, Underboss.” He greeted her with the term he would from then on recognize her as, “Got a minute?”
“Ah, Querrick, take a seat.” Aklee said, clearly too tired to even look his way.
“Just wanted to clarify something.” Querrick continued, as he took a seat in the chair opposite to her, “When I mentioned Dooga Jet, you reacted oddly. I was just curious, how much do you know about him?”
Aklee let out a long sigh, probably out of exhaustion, “Never heard of him. I just know bounty hunters are always bad news. I’ll do some digging though, make sure he was working alone. Make sure we didn’t piss off his guild or something. Last thing we need is a bunch of rabid bounty hunters stalking us down, seeking vengeance.”
“I see.” Querrick replied, “Well, let me know what you find.”
“Didn’t think you’d care.” Aklee said, turning to look at Querrick for the first time.
Querrick shrugged, and said, “I’ve got an interest.”
He then made to leave, but was stopped as Aklee spoke up again, “Hey, mind if I ask you something?”
Turning to look back at the Human, he said nothing, waiting for her to ask the question she would ask regardless of his answer.
“What’s with those scars?” She finally asked.
Once again, Querrick was caught off guard by someone asking a question he did not expect. Remembering that she had come in to the cargo bay during his workout, it donned on him that she had seen him when he was stripped down to nothing but his shorts. He’d never had to consider things like “modesty” before, and that would never bother him, but he suddenly realized these people were probably not accustomed to someone with his… history.
“Oh.” He responded, considering how to answer. He hardly knew the woman. She seemed nice enough, but he wasn’t ready to just spill out his entire life to a complete stranger. Instead, he figured he’d let her figure it out on her own. Or come to her own conclusions. It would actually be interesting to see what conclusions she came to regarding him. And regarding what she’d find of Dooga Jet, for that matter.
Continuing, he said, “I grew up on Rishi. I think that should be answer enough.”
“Oof.” Aklee responded, “That’s a rough place.”
Querrick just nodded.
“But, wait, you’re a Cathar.”
“I am.”
“Don’t most Cathar live on the planet Cathar? Not to mention, your people never struck me as the space-faring adventurer types.”
“No, I imagine they aren’t.” Querrick replied.
“What does that mean?”
Querrick just smiled and said, “I grew up on Rishi, since I was a cub. You do the math.” He then left, before Aklee could ask any further questions.
“Is our young security officer causing you trouble?” Knoll asked, as he entered the galley.
“No, not at all.” Aklee replied, waving it off, “I was probably being too nosy, anyway. What can I do for you, Dr. Din?”
As he took the seat previously occupied by the young Cathar, Knoll began to speak very softly, “There’s something that’s been on my mind since our last discussion. This company… The Good Trader… do they work for the Empire?”
“No…” Aklee answered, in an equally hushed voice, “Well, it’s complicated. The Good Trader is an independent company. We are not affiliated with the Empire in any way. However, from time to time, in the past, we have been hired by the Empire to run various jobs. They pay well, after all. But we owe no allegiance to the Empire.”
“And what about this current conflict?” Knoll asked.
“What conflict would that be?” Aklee asked.
“The conflict between the Empire and the so called ‘Rebels.’” Knoll replied.
“What do you know about that?” Aklee asked, in an even quieter tone.
“I know of it. That’s all.” Knoll replied.
He watched as Aklee stared at him, sizing him up, before she finally asked, “And where would you stand in this conflict?”
“I stand nowhere.” Knoll answered, “I am neutral in this.”
“Do you think the Empire has made this galaxy a better place?”
“No, I do not.” Knoll answered.
“Do you hope for something different?”
“At times.”
“Hope is real, Doctor.” Aklee whispered, “And hope will bring change.”
“A nice sentiment.”
Aklee stood, and said, “There may be a time when I will call on you. For work outside of the Good Trader. I hope you will think back on this conversation before that time comes.” She then left, heading into the vacant captain’s quarters of the ship.
“Curious…” Knoll muttered to himself.
“Attention crew of the Mythosaur, we have now arrived at Coruscant.” Aklee’s voice chimed over the ship’s intercom.
“‘Bout time.” Querrick grunted, eager to be off the ship.
As the ship landed and the crew departed, Querrick couldn’t help but feel a bit of culture shock. He’d been around the galaxy, no doubt, but the planets he’d visited were always grimy, filthy places. Mostly Hutt space. Even Corellia, a very core world, was hardly what Querrick would call “posh.” But Coruscant… he’d never seen anything like it…
As they walked the streets, he was amazed at the order and neatness of it all. It seemed so odd, unnatural, even. But as they approached the building Aklee pointed out as the home base of the Good Trader, he was without words.
The building was even flashier than most he had seen on Nar Shaddaa. Lights and other technological gizmos lit the building up, even in the midday sun. Names and words flashed across an ever moving banner that wrapped around the building’s exterior, and the potted plants that festooned the entryway contained more colors than Querrick had ever seen in his life.
“Wow…” Was all he could say, upon seeing the opulent home base of his new employers.
As they entered, though, things were not nearly as glamorous. The main room seemed oddly barren, and as he glanced further in, past the main desk, the rooms beyond seemed absolutely trashed.
Before he could ask just what had happened, Aklee spoke up, “Okay, so, I’ll need you all to sign these. Standard legal forms. If you get killed on the job, we’re not responsible, yadda yadda yadda.” She said, throwing flimsiplast forms at all of them, “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go make some calls.” She then disappeared into one of the back rooms, closing the door behind her.
“Something about this place seems… off.” Knoll spoke up.
“No kidding.” Sadra agreed.
“Did you guys catch that scene back there?” Querrick asked, gesturing towards the back room, “The hell happened here?”
“She did say the company had some trouble earlier…” Knoll pointed out.
“What, they try shipping a Rancor during mating season?” Querrick quipped.
“This is more like gang activity.” Sadra added.
“Gangs? On Coruscant?” Knoll laughed, “Impossible.”
“Not impossible.” Butter replied, “I was in one, before.”
“Okay!” Aklee shouted, reentering the room, cutting the conversation short and surprising everyone, “So, I just got called out on a very important job, so I’m going to need you lot to fill this latest order on your own.”
Querrick watched as Aklee scooped up the signed documents, threw them into a bin, then lit the bin on fire.
“That’s taken care of, good.” She continued, “I’m really glad to have you all aboard as official employees, now. Having you around is really gonna take some stress off of me. Anyway, there’s two shipments. Both are going to Ord Mantell. One is a shipment of Womp Rats, they’re going to a restaurant called ‘Wajick’s Woodles.’ Run by some Wookie. Don’t know why we do it, since we don’t get paid for it, but Twil insists.” Aklee rolled her eyes.
“The second is packed in with the first, this one… it’s not exactly legal, per se. So, be careful getting it around customs… But the recipient will meet you at the docks to pick it up.”
“And who is this not quite legal recipient?” Querrick asked, not liking the sound of this second delivery.
“He’ll find you.” Aklee answered, “It will pay well, trust me. Of course, if you’re caught, you could wind up in jail… so… don’t get caught.”
“Jail has never held me back, before.” Butter responded.
Querrick cocked an eyebrow at this statement.
“Okay, I gotta go. Shipment should be on your ship by now.” She then shook each member’s hand.
Upon shaking Sadra’s hand, she said, “Remember what we discussed.”
To Knoll, she said, “Hope.”
To Butter, she simply laughed and gave him a soft punch to the torso.
And to Querrick, she said, “Keep them safe.”
Then, to all, she shouted, “Good luck!” And with that, Aklee was gone, leaving three very confused crew members and one very excited droid.
The Good Trader’s orientation and on-boarding processes could use some work, in Knoll’s opinion. But he supposed that didn’t matter much. He had bigger questions on his mind than the actions of an erratic Human.
Entering the ship’s bridge, he found Butter, alone at the controls.
“Hey, Butter, mind if we talk?” He asked.
“Would prefer to spar, but talking is fine.” Butter replied, not turning his head away from the ship’s controls.
“You mentioned you were in a gang on Coruscant?” Knoll asked.
“I did.” Butter replied.
Realizing that the droid was either oblivious or uncaring to social cues, Knoll realized he would have to be more direct. “Don’t you think that’s kind of important information? Like, something we should have known beforehand?”
“Why would it be important? Coruscant gang life far in the past. Current life here, working for Good Trader.”
“Who did you work for?”
“Gang.”
“Did you work for the Hutts?”
“Sometimes.”
“Did you work for the Empire?”
“Sometimes.”
“Why would a KX unit join a gang, though? That’s what really confuses me.”
Finally, Butter turned to face the Arkanian, and said in a low voice, “Can you keep a secret? Just between you and me?”
“Of course.” Knoll replied, leaning in close.
He watched as Butter opened a chest compartment and fished something out. Swinging it out to Knoll’s face, Butter revealed a single credit chit, and shouted, “Because credits make the world go ‘round!” He then put the chit back and returned to the controls.
Knoll let out a scoffing sound, and said, “Alright then, keep your secrets.” And made to walk out.
Just before he left though, he could hear Butter mutter, “Stupid Arkanian.”
“What was that, Butter?” He asked, fully aware of what the droid had said.
Butter then jumped, and said, “Nothing more was said, you require your hearing to be checked.”
Again Knoll let out a slight grunt, and left the bridge.
The trip to Ord Mantell would be at least another day and a half of travel. And that, of course, meant more down time. So,naturally, Querrick decided to spend that time training.
Aklee’s queries regarding how he would handle a fight when he couldn’t use his gun had weighed on his mind, so, he decided to start off the day with some light shadow boxing. He’d need to find some way of finding an actual punching bag some time, though. Just wasn’t the same without the feel of something making contact with his hands and claws.
As he trained, he apparently got lost in his focus. He did not hear Knoll enter the cargo bay, and he almost took a chunk out of the good doctor as he swung around to attack an imaginary opponent he had visualized sneaking up behind him.
“Oh! Sorry Doc.” He quickly apologized, backing away to give the Arkanian some space. As he looked at the doctor, he noticed his face was twisted up in a strange way, “You okay?” He asked, “I didn’t slice ya up did I?”
Knoll had stopped by the cargo bay to check on Querrick, see if he needed any medical treatment. But as he approached, he noticed that the Cathar had stripped down to his underwear, and was apparently deep in training. That was of no concern to him, however, this was the first time he had seen the Cathar’s body, which meant, this was the first time he had seen the numerous scars that littered his form.
At a glance, there was no rhyme or reason to any of it. Some were made by blaster shots, others by blade. Some were clearly the result of severe burns, and others could only have been left by the teeth and claws of wild animals. In all of Knoll’s years, he had never seen anything like it. Especially on one so young.
Deep in thought, he had not heard the Cathar calling out his name, or, at least, the nickname he had apparently been appointed, “Doc? Doc? You alright?”
Knoll suddenly shook his head, and met Querrick’s eyes, saying, “No, no, I’m fine. Uh… you know… I am a doctor… I could do something about that.”
He watched as Querrick’s face took on a puzzled expression, “About what?”
Even more concerned, Knoll said, “The scars all over your body. Don’t they bother you? Don’t they hurt?”
Querrick again looked puzzled, then looked down on his own body. With a simple shrug he said, “Not really.”
“Come to the medbay, please.” Knoll said, “For my own peace of mind.”
“Okay…” Querrick replied, still clearly confused.
As Knoll ran a series of tests on the Cathar, and examined the scars with much more scrutiny, he was shocked to see that the Cathar was indeed in excellent health. Albeit, on the malnourished side. His muscles were incredibly toned, but overall, he was too slim. Like a muscular stick. Knoll was no expert on his species physiology, but he knew that Querrick was obviously far skinnier than any Cathar should be. He was also quite a bit shorter, but there was hardly anything he could prescribe for that.
The scars themselves, though, were quite odd. Although they were numerous and various, none of them were ever deep enough to cause serious damage. They would have caused intense pain, certainly, but they would have left the body, the muscle, the sinew, the vital organs, the bone, mostly unharmed.
“Querrick…” He began, “How many battles have you seen?”
Querrick laughed, and said, “Doc, my whole life has been a battle.”
A disquieting answer for sure, Knoll thought. He continued, “And these scars… the wounds inflicted on you. Were they intended to kill or just cause pain?”
He watched as Querrick considered the question, then said, “Neither.”
Knoll was now even more confused, how could that be?
The Cathar then laughed, and said, “Well… some of them might have been trying to kill me. That wampa was a mean ol’ bastard.”
Knoll watched in fascination as Querrick spoke, he smiled, his eyes had a feral glint as he recalled this apparent wampa attack.
Querrick continued, “The shupur… the injuries… they were just a part of the bajur, er… they served to teach.”
There was that strange language again… Knoll was dearly tempted to ask about it, but he didn’t want to press his luck. The Cathar was opening up to him, that would have to serve for now.
“This is how you learned to fight these ‘battles?’” Knoll pried.
Again, the Cathar seemed distant, either considering the answer or reliving it in his head, Knoll couldn’t tell, but eventually, Querrick spoke, “Since before I could walk, I was trained in the ways of combat. I was honed as a weapon. It was the only life I’d ever known. The haastal… the scars, each one served as a lesson. A memory I could not escape. Something from which I could learn, to make myself better. To become a greater warrior.”
“Since before you could walk…” Knoll echoed, “So, this started at a very young age?”
“Like I said, Doc. My whole life has been a battle.”
“A battle that was not your choice?”
Again, Querrick seemed to consider the answer, finally he just shook his head in response.
“So, who’s was it?”
“The choice… there was no choice. It was just part and parcel of the whole gai bal manda. I guess you could say it was enforced, though, by my… buir.”
Knoll shook his head, and said, “Sorry, I don’t… your what?”
Now Querrick shook his own head, and said, “Sorry Doc, getting me talking about that, makes me slip back into it… uh, I guess you could say the fighting was enforced by my… well, I guess you could call him my master. Or, handler, if you prefer.”
Slavery? Knoll thought to himself. It would make sense in some regards. But not remotely in others. Most slaves presented only specific types of wounds. Lashes of a whip on the back. Scarred wrists that had been shackled for too long. Broken bones that had healed improperly. Querrick showed none of those signs. Besides which, all of his wounds had healed properly. Not by the hands of a skilled doctor supplied with the latest technology, but more like a field medic using antiquated remedies. And the strange language, it certainly wasn’t Huttese. Besides everything else, no slave master in this galaxy would train a slave to be as skilled as Querrick was with a blaster rifle. Not if they wished to live… No… There was something more to it… But as eager as he was to crack the riddle, he also knew that if he pushed too far, he would lose the Cathar’s trust. If Querrick was indeed on the run, he would have to choose his next questions carefully.
“How long had you been… How long have you been on your own? Away from… that life?”
“My entire life was a battle, up until just a few hours before I met you and the others on Nar Shaddaa.” Querrick answered.
“Is that why you panicked at the sight of that bounty hunter?”
Panic? Was that what it looked like to them? Querrick thought. Was that what it was? “Hmm.” He replied, “There was more to it than that. The bounty hunter… I knew him. And he knew me. And I didn’t want him knowing I was on this ship. That’s all there was to it.”
“Hmm.” The Doc hummed, “Well, I’m glad you’re here now. Away from all of that. Hopefully this will be your first step towards a more peaceful life.”
A more peaceful life… glad to be away… Was he? Querrick thought that this was indeed what he wanted, but now that he had it, ever since he had achieved it, happiness and peace were the furthest emotions from him. He was not so sure, anymore. And with this unexpected trip down memory lane, he was beginning to see his past differently from how he had always viewed it before. Perhaps it wasn’t as bad as he had thought.
This train of thought was quickly interrupted, though, as Querrick stared, absentmindedly out the door of the medbay, he saw a womp rat scurry by. “Ah, crap.” He muttered, “Hey Doc, we’ve got a prison break on our hands.”
The womp rats had escaped and wreaked havoc on the ship’s systems. Thanks to Querrick’s sharpshooting and Butter’s more… unorthodox approaches, the critters had been recaptured, most of them alive. However, before they had been caught, a few of the ugly things had managed to deal extreme damage to the ship. With the hyperdrive and power completely disabled, they were floating dead in space.
Again, Sadra cursed Orlana for not joining them on the ship as it was left to her to fix the damn thing, with Knoll, of all people, attempting to assist her.
Butter watched from the bridge as the ship floated listlessly. The Mythosaur was on a direct path towards a very active, very deadly looking comet shower. The others, back in the cargo hold were completely unaware of this fact. But Butter saw no reason to inform them of this. Panic would only cause Sadra to make more mistakes fixing the engines. She would either fix the ship and Butter could steer them out of danger in time. Or they would all be dead. Simple as that.
Much to Butter’s satisfaction, though, the former seemed to be true, as the lights came back on and the ship whirred to life.
Taking back control of the ship, Butter made a sharp turn to get out of the way of the ever looming comets, and sent the ship back into the safety of hyperspace.
“Resuming our path to Ord Mantell.” Butter announced over the ship’s intercom.
“The hell is that droid doing?” Sadra asked, getting up off the floor, after being knocked down by Butter’s suddenly erratic piloting. “We need an astromech.”
“An astromech would certainly be of more help in here than I would.” Knoll agreed.
“You made sure those rats won’t be getting out again, right?”
Knoll shuddered and said, “Yes, positive, although, I did find something odd that I think you and the others should be made aware…”
Knoll produced the bag hidden within one of the false bars of the womp rat cage and showed it to the others. “Spice.” He announced, “But not just any spice. This stuff is the highest caliber. Only the extremely wealthy could afford something like this. It’s also extremely deadly if used improperly.”
“And it was smuggled away in these womp rat cages?” Sadra asked.
“Indeed. No doubt, this was the ‘second package’ that Aklee was referring to. She wasn’t kidding when she said we could wind up in jail if we were caught with this stuff. We’re in danger just carrying it on our ship.” Knoll explained.
“So… what do we do about it?” Sadra asked.
“I don’t know.” Knoll answered.
“Who cares?” Querrick asked, “I was hired to serve as security for this ship, not security for the sleaze bag who ordered this stuff. As far as I see it, our job is simple: deliver the packages to the clients. What’s in them or who they go to should hardly matter to us.”
“I suppose you’re right…” Knoll replied.
The Cathar’s simplistic view had some truth to it, Knoll thought. He supposed it wasn’t really his place to question. But still, something about all of this just didn’t seem right to him. There was far more to this “Good Trader” than met the eye. The odd job offers, the spice, the bizarre orientation, the destroyed office, the missing owners… Something was off… But was it his responsibility to get to the bottom of it? After all, he was a doctor, not a detective…
