Star Wars: The Sith War - Fiction: Shiny and New

[z-Hana Rexius]

She was an easy mark, fresh off the transport. She was petite, shorter than most human women, and cute as a button. More importantly, she was wearing good clothing, and one could almost smell the credits on her. She was looking around, her blue eyes wide and her face so clean that you could eat off of it.

Hana Rexius walked along the skyway of Nal Hutta's capitol city, humming to herself. She wasn't sure that she was happy to be here; she wasn't exactly fond of Hutts, but it was where the cargo transport she'd arranged to fly on was headed. She could have taken a luxury liner anywhere, but she had wanted to work for her first trip.

And work she had. The Star Rain was on its last legs, and they'd been happy to sign her on for a trip once she'd demonstrated that she could do basic repair work. And there had been a lot of basic repair work to do. While the Nikto engineer had scrambled to keep the ship flying, Hana had kept the secondary systems - lighting, waste processing and so on - working. It been the hardest, most relentless weeks of her life.

She'd loved every moment. It had felt good to work with her hands, almost as good as winning The Race.

That was how she saw it in her mind: it was actually called the King's Inaugarational Nobility Race, but to Hana, it would only be The Race.

Slipping through the crowd, Hana found she had gotten the wish she'd made when she'd crossed the finish line. She'd wished to be her own person, to achieve things without the weight of her heritage over her head. The Race was the first thing she'd ever done on her own, and she was damned proud of that moment.

But... now what?

She could sign on with another ship, go somewhere else, but as personally enjoyable as the first had been, she couldn't see herself doing that forever. No, she needed something more. But what?

Surely she'd figure it out, in time. Pilots were often in need; technicians when pilots weren't. Hana could do a little of both. Right now, she was hungry. Smiling, she headed for a bar.

It was dark and oppressive, but the prices for food seemed right. It was far less than a meal would have cost on Corellia, but Hana knew that prices were different away from the Core. What she didn't account for was that the food was also awful. Choking, she set her spoon down and spit into the napkin, grimacing at the taste.

"Hey, Boz, I don't think she likes the food," a smooth voice said, and Hana glanced up to see two Cathars staring at her.

"No, she doesn't," the other said, shaking his head so that his golden mane bounced over his shoulders. "What's the matter, sweetheart?"

"Hey, buzz off," another voice said. The three glanced over to see a woman in a cloak approach. Her voice wasn't threatening, but she was casually holding the edge of her cloak open, revealing a blaster.

Hana's jaw dropped open before she snapped it shut. The two Cathars backed away quietly, grumbling to themselves. "Was that necessary?" Hana asked the cloaked form.

The woman sat down in a chair, and Hana could see her face. Jewel-bright blue skin set in a pretty face with an implusive smile appeared under the curve of the hood. "Hi, I'm Donata," the Twi'lek said, her hazel eyes twinkling. "And yeah, those guys aren't the nicest people around. In fact, I'd guess no one in Nal Hutta is. You really need to be more careful."

"But I didn't do anything," Hana protested softly.

Donata laughed. "Sure you did. You drew attention to yourself."

"I did?"

"Kid, you've got a lot to learn," the Twi'lek laughed. "Hang with me - you'll be ok."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

That night, Hana was sacked out on a bed in her new friend's room. She was fast asleep from a mixture of too much fun and too much alcohol. Donata, much better at holding her alcohol, was still wide awake.

The Twi'lek sat cross-legged on the floor of her small room, picking through Hana's bags. She had been right; the girl was an easy mark, and well worth the time spent getting her drunk. Donata had just planned to take the valuable stuff from her, but it was all valuable.

Donata had just decided to take everything when she found the ring. "Whoa," the Rutian muttered, holding the ring up, noting that it looked important. In fact, it looked like a signet ring. "Let's find out who you are, Hana."

After some research on the ring, Donata sat back, her face thoughtful. One thing the Twi'lek had learned was that patience really was a vitrue. Stealing the princess' things would net her a pretty piece of change; the bragging rights on finding the princess would keep her in drinks for a long time to come. But the Twi'lek sensed a larger payout, in the future. Hana was a sweet, naive kid, who stood to be worth a lot of money someday. If Donata stuck with her, kept her safe and her head on straight, the princess would be sure to reward her. Heck, the Corellian royal family would be in her debt, should she return Hollenhannah in a marriable state.

Donata grinned. She'd long waited for her big take to fall into her lap. It would be a long haul, but the payout promised to be worth it.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Three months later

Donata whooped as she bounced into their shared room and shed her cloak. Hana looked up from the blaster she was repairing. It was a nice DL-44, and she'd gotten for a song because it was broken. "What's up?"

"Your training is done, kid!" Donata whooped. "I got us a job!"

"Really?" Hana asked, her face lighting up. "What? Where?"

"We're going to go to Kintan, and pick up some cargo. Our employer is giving us a ship to use for this," Donata added. "That's going to reduce our fee, but that's how it goes. You'll pilot, and I'll navigate when we get there, and if there's trouble, we both shoot it out, ok?"

"Yeah!" Hana giggled. This is what she'd been looking for when she'd left home: excitement, adventure, and doing her own thing, on her own terms. "When do we leave?"

"As soon as you're ready, Hana," Donata said, drawing on her cloak again.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The flight was easy, ridicously so. The ship was a near-wreak, and Hana spent much of her free time working on the ship itself. It flew alright, if a bit slowly; the trip to Kintan took six days, despite its proxmity to Dar Hutta. Hana had no problem with the hyperdrive calculations, especially not with the astromech droid she'd purchased. A short hop put them to Kintan and it became Donata's job to find the pick-up point.

"So, it's just a warehouse in the middle of the desert?" Hana asked, easing the ship's speed back a touch more.

"To be fair," Donata muttered as she bent over a map, "Kintan is kinda a desert. So it's

a warehouse in the middle of Kintan. Ease a little more toward the north, hmm?"

"Right," Hana sighed, angling the ship closer to the northern pole.

They flew in silence before Donata said, "There!" She pointed through the view screen.

Hana grinned as she cut the ship's speed and prepared to land next to the building. Slowly, the craft shuddered and eased to a stop, the old Barloz-class freighter protesting a ground landing. Still, Hana coaxed the controls until the landing feet thumped into the sandy earth, and the engines settled into a soft hum.

"We need to move," Hana said after checking the planet's climate to be sure it was breathable and safe. "The sand is going to clog up these old engines quick."

"Ok, then," Donata said, opening the cargo bay and jumping to her feet. Working together, it only took the woman thirty minutes to clean out all the boxes and load them on the ship. An hour after they'd arrived, Hana was clearing the planet's gravity well and figuring out how to get back home.

"That was easier than I though I would be," Donata sighed, kicking back in the chair and putting her feet on her console.

"Huh, it was just a milk run," Hana said, exercising her new slang she'd learned from Donata, "were you expecting trouble?"

"A little," Donata said. "Working for the Hutts, even indirectly, makes me nervous."

Hana blanched a little. "The Hutts? You didn't mention that?"

"Actually, I got the job from Zal Morr, one of Hutt Kihda's underlings," Donata said. She looked at the worried expression on Hana's face. "Hey, don't worry, so long as we do the job, we don't have shit to worry about. I've turned down a dozen other jobs because we might have done something illegal, or they seemed shady." She grinned, her teeth a brilliant white against her blue skin. "Don't worry, Hana, I've got you back."

"Actually, ladies," a voice said behind them, "I believe we have your backs."

Hana and Donata both spun; all Hana saw was the business end of a blaster, pointing at her. There was a discharge of energy, and then nothing.

[Sparrow]

Close down the mind. Lose the distractions thoughts cause. Reach out … no, feel outward and sense the Force all around you. Become one in the Force. Immerse yourself in the whole of the Universe and come to the understanding that one does not use the Force, but moves with it to accomplish one’s goals. One is not separate from the Force, but one with it. Remove the artificial separations caused by your basic perceptions. Confront and deny the conception that one is a Force-user and embrace the reality that one but one part of a living thriving entity that is the Force.

Your breath becomes a pulse within the Force. Your heartbeat becomes part of its rhythm. Touch the living world around you with every soft caress of existence. Now, know the Force within you and coax it to your will. Feel it tremble from the touch of your will and let it flow as you know it must. Know what you will make happen, do not think it might happen. Now you are ready.

Now if only I could see … really see what my mind tells me is there.

Sparrow got up from the table with the Gamorrean and made her way back to the table. She didn't stop, but motioned for her companion, her battle-half, to follow. A few eye watched them leave, but no one got up to follow. The young Jedi had already proven that they were not easy marks.

Once outside, they snuck inexpertly off into the edge of an alley.

"I found her. She is with a Twi'lek named Donata. They've been a pair for the past few months and they are due back from an off-world's mission on a Barloz-class freighter this evening at landing pad A 106."

Looking around for a moment she then adds,

"I don't know who they've been working for, but my contact got edgy when I asked. I didn't have the Credits to push the matter."

"Anyway, if we hurry we can still catch them at the ship."

Sparrow waited for her partner and her protector to lead the way.

[SalmonMax]

Kestrel watches the rough crew in the cantina with ice-blue eyes over a sharp nose as she leaves with her partner in this mission. The iciness of her gaze is only magnified by the shaggy clump of silver-white hair on her head. Beyond that the most striking thing about her is her evident youth. She's probably no older, and quite possibly younger, than the delinquent youth they pursued.

"We're on Nal Hutta," Kestrel says pointedly. "I'm thinking they're working for a hutt. Besides, who they're working for is irrelevant. We found them."

She broke into a brisk but paced jog as she headed for the docking bay, occasionally glancing back to make sure Sparrow is keeping up.

[z-Hana Rexius]

It was dark and hot, unrelentingly so. Hana, her head pounding mercilessly, groaned and tried to sit up. Her forehead smacked into something hard, and Hana had a new misery to focus on. With another groan, she dropped her head and reached up carefully, touching the already growing bruise. For a long moment, she lay still on the hard surface beneath her. Slowly, with gathering panic, she began to feel the confines of her prison.

She was in what amounted to a coffin: just tall enough for her to half-lift her head, just wide enough for her to lay her hands flat between the walls and her legs. She wasn't sure how long it was, and she didn't care to find out. If she could keep from imagining she was in a small box, entrapped and enclosed.

Her resolve lasted only a moment. With a whimper, she reached over her head, her hand stopped almost immediately by a wall. The whimper became a wordless whine as she wiggled downward, running into the last wall after a foot or so. "Let me out!" she screamed the second her mind confirmed that she was trapped in a box barely bigger than herself. "Let me out! Please! Please!" No one answered her cries, but that didn't stop her screams or the tears that came.

There was no time here, and her face and hair were wet with tears and snot before her sore throat gave out and her voice faded to a whisper. Think, just like you did during The Race, she belatedly reminded herself. You have to think. The pep talk pulled a nod out of her.

Hana drew a deep breath and turned her head, pressing her ear to the floor. She could hear the distant thrum of engines, possibly hyperdrive engines. So she was in transit. Easing against one of her walls, she pressed her ear to that, and heard approaching footsteps. Gasping, she jerked back from the wall, just as her box moved and rocked. Without thought, she spread her arms and legs, bracing herself.

"-enough for sell to a Hutt, but she's too short to be a dancer." The voice was heard only when he opened up the top of her box, sending light into her box. "Oh, and she's awake."

Hana couldn't see much more than blurs, but she did as Donata had taught her, and she kicked at one. She connected with something; not well, but well enough that she heard an explosion of sound as the air rushed out of someone.

"Oh, for the love of the Force, get ahold of her," a woman said, her voice rough and impatient. "But don't hurt her... it'll drive our overhead up if she has to spend time healing from your lunkheads."

Someone grabbed an arm and yanked; Hana yelped as she came half-out of the box. As the woman shouted, "I said, don't hurt her!" Hana grabbed the blurry wrist and lunged, biting blindly. She actually slobbered over her own arm more than getting him. Another person grabbed her, and it was then only a matter of moments before she was held between them.

By now, Hana's eyes had adjusted to the room. There were six people there - five thugs of various species and a disinterested looking human woman draped in silken robes. Smoke curled from a leafy drug rolled in paper and clenched between her lips. Her gray eyes studied Hana closely; after a moment, she stepped forward and, gripping her face, pulled her lips back. She's checking my teeth! The thought was a slap to her pride and Hana again tried to bite.

The woman jerked her hand back, chuckling as she brushed her dark hair out of her face. "Oh, good, after all those tearstains, I thought she might be a whiner. But she's a fighter, which should make up for her lack of dancing ability."

"Fighting's good?" one of the men asked nervously. "Seems to me like that'd be bad."

The woman rolled her eyes at Hana. "Jack's new," she said, "don't mind him."

"What if I won't fight for you?" Hana asked boldly. In the back of her head, a nervous voice had started to scream about being a slave, but Hana ignored it for now.

"Mmm, you'll fight when a Hutt 'kisses' you," the woman said. "And by that Corellian accent you have, you'll fight until your last breath."

"Ms. Tilly?" Everyone in the room turned as another person entered the hold, a small Bothan who cringed when he became the center of attention. "We're about to land on Nar Shaddaa."

"Thank you, Dog, that was fast, faster than normal. Great work," Ms. Tilly purred, before turning back to Hana. "Put her back."

It only took Hana a moment to catch what she'd said. Struggling, she thought for a second she might get free, for all the good it would do her. One of her captors moved forward; a sharp pain stung her in the arm and brought instant sleep.

[Sparrow]

The ship was back early as the two Jedi found out. Sparrow casually approached a Rodian who wasn't being overly careful of his observation of the craft.

Motioning Ketral to hang back, Sparrow approached alone, hands extended and open. The Rhodian turned his blaster on her lazily, more annoyed than out right hostile. She called upon the Force and through it to the connection between all living things. The Rhodian's posture relaxed. Self-conciously, he turned the blaster away from her.

"I'm looking for the Corellian pilot of that craft. Could you please help me, sir?"

The Rhodian looked away from Sparrow, obviously uncertain of just how much he revield. The thing was, he knew that this kind young human was walking into dangerous territory. Strangely he didn't want to take advantage of her, but wanted to help her out. She reminded him of something, or someone?

"She's gone. Much trouble," he began. "You should go away from here."

"I can't, I apologize. I need to find her. If you find a way to help me, I will remember this and I pay my debts."

The Rodians mind was troubled. Instinct told him to shut up, but emotionally he felt a tie to this woman and her quest to find her friend. If he went missing, he hoped someone like her would come looking for him. That made up his mind, this sense and longing for a trusted kinswoman.

"A transport to her away to Nar Shaddaa. Ms. Tilly ... she's a bad one ... a slaver ... but you didn't hear it from me," he added hastily.

Sparrow nodded, thanked the unknown Rodian and pressed a few credits into his hand. She slipped back over to Kestral.

"She's been taken by slavers to Nar Shaddaa," she told her companion, trying to quiet her fear.

"This has gotten much, much worse."

Biting her lip slightly, she continued, "Why we would be wise to leave this in the hands of a senior Jedi, we have a lead and are only a few hours behind. Let me find a transport to Nar Shaddaa. I know we can do this."

Looking off into the dark,

"This is a test for us. We are not only this girl's only hope, we are on a precipice of something new. Are you with me, because I know I can't do this alone?"

[SalmonMax]

Kestrel's stern features betray no emotion, but her nod is energetic enough to suggest some enthusiasm.

"If we're so close, then waiting for the Council to dispatch more Jedi would only endanger her," the Echani agrees. "We can send a message to inform them of our progress and intentions, then go to Nar Shaddaa."

Then she cracked a smile, a small one, but it stripped her of her normally grave countenance and made her look much more her age; almost spritely, though few would suggest that to her face.

"Of course I am with you. I'll send the message while you get a transport. We'll meet back here."

[z-Hana Rexius]

Hana pulled herself out of sleep slowly, shivering a little with the cold. The thin sheet under her did nothing to soften the hard surface under her, or to keep the cold from seeping through. She moved a little; her head pounded hard enough that she almost missed hearing the chime of a moving chain.

She had a second of confusion; then Hana came awake as she remembered what had occurred: the run, Donata, the attackers and then Ms. Tilly. A collar encircled her neck, and as she rolled to her feet, it hung heavily from its weight and the chain attached to it. Worse, she was dressed in what amounted to a bathing suit - a red bra and underwear, both decorated with a big "T".

The room as rather large, with several raised platforms around the permimeter, with three larger ones in the middle of the room. All the platforms had chains secured into the center; the three in the middle had a chain as big around as her thigh. She was about two-thirds of the way from the door; another two platforms, both empty, were behind her. Across the room, all six of the platforms were full with at least one slave; on one platform, two identical Bith, one male and one female, were chained together. A Slith occupied one platform, its long serpentine body locked into a tight coil by thick restraints.

Hana snatched up the sheet she'd been resting on and wrapped it around herself, turning a deep red. A green Twi'lek across the room rolled her eyes at Hana before returning to the sabaac game she was playing with an ugly Rodian. The Rodian ignored Hana, focusing on its hand, idly stroking an antenna. Like Hana, they'd been given enough chain to come to the edge of their platform, and they were taking full advantage of the freedom to stave off boredom.

"Don't do that," another voice said, and Hana peered past the pacing Wookie next to her to see another human. She was older, with gray in her hair. Like everyone else, she was dressed in skimpy clothing, monogrammed with the "T". "If you hide your body like that when they come around, they'll take your blanket away."

"I... I'm cold," Hana lied poorly.

"I know," the woman said with a smile. "But that's how they'll see it."

Hana nodded and draped the blanket looser around her body. She'd drop it when they came in. That would be good enough; it would have to be. "Thanks. I'm Hana." Saying her fake name brought Hana up short for a moment; if she told them who she was, they could contact her family and she'd be home as soon as they got their "reward" which would be a ransom, in truth. Or they might use it to up her price. Swallowing, Hana decided to not say anything. She could always escape later.

She realized that the other woman was talking. "I'm sorry, I missed that."

"I said, my name is Clarissa," Clarissa said, nodding. "Don't look so scared, hon. It'll be ok."

She was lying, Hana could tell. But she didn't call her on it or argue; she just nodded and sat down, waiting.

Within an hour, the door at the far end of the room opened. There was a general scramble among the slaves; the card game was recklessly abandoned, while everyone stood up. The Slith hissed and writhed in its chains, rage radiating out from it as Ms. Tilly stepped into the room. She was flanked by four toughs.

The black-haired slaveowner ignored all the other slaves, coming to stop in front of Hana. "Hey, how are you feeling?" she asked, vanilla perfume and smoke wafting off of her.

Hana coughed and drew back from her. "Fine," she said sullenly.

"Good, I have a few questions," Ms. Tilly said. She drew a compad out of one of her large sleeves. "What are your skills?"

Hana glanced at Clarissa, who gave her a quick nod. Before Hana could respond, Ms. Tilly snapped, "Don't look at her! I asked you the question. In fact!" She gestured at Clarissa; one of the toughs jumped to obey, backhanding the older human. Clarissa had flinched away, but she was still knocked to the floor. The tough bend and turned her face away from Hana, then stepped on her neck to hold her in that position.

"Stop!" Hana cried uselessly, taking a step toward Clarissa. One of the toughs stepped forward, intersecting her course. She jerked back from him as Ms. Tilly cleared her throat.

"Look, sweetie, you have one choice here," she said, "or rather one choice that isn't going to hurt yourself or others. She's not being sold for her looks, not anymore. I don't have to worry about marking that old face. Just answer the sith-blighted questions, ok? What's your name, and what are you good at?"

"Hana Rexius," Hana said, her voice catching on the first sob. Tears fell, conjured by helpless frustration and fear. This wasn't fun anymore and Hana almost blurted her true identity. The only thing that stopped her was Donata. She was here, somewhere, too. Hana had to escape and rescue her, too. Donata wouldn't have left her behind, and Hana wouldn't leave without her. "I can do some repair work, I've done some on space ships... um... I can play the flute."

"The flute? And engines? How polymath of you," Ms. Tilly said, making notes. "Languages? What do you speak and read?"

Hana rattled them off quickly, and Ms. Tilly raised her eyebrows. "Hmm... that's an extensive list."

"We traveled a lot," Hana said without much convicton. Of course, the tears helped cover by weakening her voice. "My family."

"I really don't care why," Ms. Tilly said. "I just care that this is driving up my profits. Any special abilities?"

Hana shook her head. Anything else might give her away.

"Alright." Ms. Tilly smiled sweetly. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" She turned and swept out of the room, saving Hana from having to answer. Her toughs followed her, after the one pinning Clarissa had stepped a little harder on her.

"Clarissa, I'm sorry!" Hana cried the second they were gone.

The older woman was picking herself up slowly. She sighed wearily and said, "It won't be the first time a bully gives me a bruise, and it won't be the last. I'm fine. No, really, child. Hush and stop your tears. It'll be fine."

This time, even the pretense of the lie couldn't help Hana. Sobbing her heart out, Hana sat down with her back to the wall, ignoring even Clarissa's attempts to soothe her.

[Sparrow]

They had traded in their return trip tickets for tickets to Nar Shaddaa with a little more besides. The important thing was that they rescued the girl from the clutches of the slavers, right? Sparrow was happy with the deal she had made. She was less certain of the choice she and Kestral had made to come here. That was her fear talking and she knew were fear lead. She tried to look on the positive.

The ship ride, while hardly comfortable … they didn’t go first class, or even business class, but in a style less likely to draw attention to themselves. Thankfully, they spent the journey mostly alone and with the few other passengers keeping to their own business as well.

Landing on the moon of perpetual night was eerie enough without the knowledge of what they would face. Nar Shaddaa also had an evil reputation. This wasn’t the Republic, were you could count on most of the local law enforcement to lend a hand. It was Hutt space, were the law enforcement was part of the criminal element, sort of. The two young Jedi padawan would have to rely on the inherent goodness of most sentient beings as well as their own wits to pull this rescue off.

First priority was a room to operate out of. It wasn’t too shady while remaining economical. They were pretty sure their room was only ransacked once when they were out. Maybe the other burglars were better at hiding their trail.

Next Sparrow began picking up the trail. It was surprisingly easy. Tilly was well known. More to the point, Sparrow didn’t realize that she and Kestral were even being steered in her direction. It wasn’t that Sparrow wasn’t bright, but in the games of Crime Lords, she was a gna’kk picking the parasites of a Rancor compared to their subtlety and skill. Tilly had enemies and as the Hutts said, the Enemy of my Enemy is a useful Tool. Thus the two Jedi became useful tools in discomforting Tilly’s master. And, if the two young Jedi actually managed to cripple her operations, so much the better.

Back at their apartment, Sparrow and Kestral began planning out just what to do next. They knew were the Princess was being kept. They knew were the slave auction was going to be held and when. They even knew how to get ‘invited’ to the auction. What they didn’t have was a lot of time (naturally), much money (typical), and any help. Experience in this sort of thing would have been too much to ask.

The Slave holding area was the least guarded, but they would have next to no time to stake it out before action later … today, if day was what you would call this phase of night. The Auction sight would be even more guarded, but there would also be more chance of a random fight breaking out with everyone having some sort of weapon. Maybe. Maybe they could scout the area, find out who purchased her, and move from there?

Sparrow was suddenly feeling very vulnerable and young. She took courage from knowing that the Princess needed them to save her. No one else knew were she was. No one else could help.

Kestral came up with the idea of following Tilly’s group from the holding area to the Auction House and it was a good idea. They quickly got an idea how many, and how alert, her guards were. They were certain they could take them too … if it wasn’t for the other people on the streets and the police standing close by. Jedi did not spread chaos, endanger civilians, and get into brawls with the Law. They also weren’t in the habit of throwing their lives away, so they followed.

Now, it may have been clear to an outsider that two Jedi walking into a slave auction was a bit of an oddity. It was clear that they were too young Jedi at that. Plus, neither Sparrow, nor Kestral had ever participated in a slave auction before. Sparrow, for her part, had never even seen a slave before coming on this mission. While she knew her training, the demeaning condition any sentient being went through by being owned by another made her skin crawl. It was also a doorway to the Dark Side she dared not open, for anger, no matter how righteous, was a gaping hole that opened to the Abyss.

For a moment the idea of ‘coaxing’ one of the lesser bidders to simply buy the girl came to Sparrow in a whisper. It would be easy and in a good cause. But no, she whispered back. Such thoughts, while velvety smooth, were the way of Power, and its abuse. The Force was her Ally, not a tool in her arsenal. Sparrow would respect her gifts.

But what was she to do?

She couldn’t help but look a bit lost and helpless. She knew she was the more social side in her pairing and she was letting Kestral down by not coming up with a way to solve this without conflict.

[DirtyRottenScoundrel]

Brad made his way through the crowds as the small army of slave owners and potential slave-owners milled about waiting for their possible property. They discussed bidding strategies, what they were looking for in "their property", blah blah, boring. What wasn't boring was the pair of obviously out of place individuals. Brown robes, hoods, leather and spandex body socks, and.... Are they serious? Lightsabers. These two were either very brave or very stupid and judging by the looks on their faces, it wasn't bravery.

He briefly wondered whether these two were here to bust up the auction. In the name of truth, justice, and... whatever. He doubted they were that stupid. Are you sure? He keyed his comlink. It was probably better if he did his usual walkthrough over where they actually kept the slaves rather than on the block. Just in case they really were that stupid.

As Brad walked into the viewing room, Ms. Tilly expertly detached herself from the customer she was schmoozing and walked over. "Brad Olen," she cooed. "You're back." She slipped her hand around his arm, turning him so that he could see her merchandise - and her slaves.

"I wouldn't dream of missing one of your visits. As long as I'm on planet, I'll find a way here. How have you been, Morgan? Looking beautiful as always"

"Oh, Brad... you always come looking for me, and never for my product," she sighed dramatically. "Unless... I hear your luck has been good lately. Are you finally going to make me a happy woman?" She chuckled to let him know that she was passing it off as joking, though he could tell she was deadly serious.

"I think something can be worked out. It's been a fairly decent few weeks. Only been shot at twice in the past few months. Not bad given the moon. Do you have anything in particular that would draw my interest? Outside of the usual, that is" He wasn't even trying to hide the fact that he was admiring her merchandise at this point, with only nominal attention being paid to her slaves.

"Well," Tilly said speculatively, drawing him into the room, "that depends on what you're looking for."

"Why don't you give me the grand tour? You know my proclivities probably better than I do"

Ms. Tilly laughed softly. It was no secret that she made every effort to know the tendencies of any customer, potential or current. "You like Twi'leks," she said, pulling him to the left, and stopping in front of a green-skinned woman dressed in flowing robes that accented skin and eyes. Her lekku were tightly bound in ribbons of similar material. The girl smiled at Brad, but it was a blank, bored expression.

He looked at the twi'lek for a moment, looking for some sort of sign of life beyond the facsimile of a smile that she was wearing. "I think I'll pass on this one. Maybe if you have someone more… lively. Besides, if I were to make a suitable offer to you on that one, I doubt it would even pay for the room"

Ms. Tilly nodded, thoughtful. "I have a new slave - brand new, untrained. She's a biter, if you're interested in something to break."

"A biter? You're kidding, right? This one I have to see"

Nodding, Ms. Tilly lead him across the room. A small blonde girl was huddled in her robes, knees drawn up to her chest. She was the poster child for surly, and for a moment, Brad thought she was a child. A second look confirmed otherwise.

Being Corellian himself, he recognized the resemblance immediately. However,

the current conditions made the actual connection more than a little bit hazy. "She doesn't look like much of a biter, but you've piqued my interest. What's her skillset?"

"Piloting, as she's Corellian. She claims she can do minor repair work and play the flute," Ms. Tilly said, gesturing. A thug walked onto the stage and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her to her feet. The girl glared at everyone, including Brad. At a nod from Ms. Tilly, he grabbed her ass. With a snarl, she kicked at him but he avoided her easily. "See? If you're looking for fiesty, she's it."

"I'm not sure whether or not I want to question that Corellian piloting thing. Probably wouldn't make it too far, since I can fly. So can everyone I know from that world." Brad shrugged. "So we have a young, flute playing mechanic who, by virtue of planet of origin can apparently fly." He emphasized the 'young' in his sentence. "Still, feisty can usually be fun. I'll give you 3,000 for her. 3,500 if you throw in one of those collars and a couple stun sticks"

Ms. Tilly looked offended. "I put her in a Corellian school uniform and I'll get twice that on the auction floor. Five-five."

"Or shot by all the Corellian pirates out there. Homeworld pride is fun times"

"Is that what this is, Brad?" she chuckled. "Homeworld pride? Didn't realize you were so soft."

"Me, I'm not. But there's at least two dozen people out there who will kill for it. You know that as well as I do. I'll give you 4. With the gear"

"Five flat."

"Is that including the Twi'lek or should I be laughing now? 4 and a quarter"

"Four and three-quarters, Brad," she shot back. "The stun sticks are worth a pretty penny too."

"Throw in a night out with a certain lovely lady I think we both know, and I think you've got a deal"

Ms. Tilly smiled. "You may not have time for a date with her around. Done."

Brad looked at her half amused, and half faux-offended. "Miss Tilly, for a night with you, I will make time"

She giggled as her thug unhooked the girl and dragged her off, despite her struggles. She had an impressive vocabulary for someone looking so young; it should have been listed in her skillset. "While they finish preparing her for transfer, let's transfer your credits, hmm? My office."

He made his way to the door and motioned, a gesture that almost hinted at the nobility that he.... was? "Ladies first" This was no doubt a little confusing since there is no report or information source anywhere that hints at Brad being aristocracy. Especially not given his lifestyle.

The next few minutes were pleasantries and unpleasantries alike. She arranged for his acquisition of a number of stun prods, collars, and light restraints, as well as transportation to wherever he wanted to go within the area. All too perfect for what Brad needed. He had never owned a person before, and he wasn't enough of a jaded ass to take full advantage of the prospect. Yet.

Brad and the girl were brought to a transport, much like the others that transited the skyways of the Pirate Moon. It had taken a small favor to get the deal done off the block and out of sight, but it had been worth it. For all he knew, those Jedi back there were causing a ruckus that would be remembered long into the future and probably end with THEIR being in chains as well. Way to go, Jedi. Idiots.

The quarters that Brad acquired were nice. Not quite as nice as the luxury suite that Lucky Shots had put him up in so he would stop taking their money, but it was up there. Good enough for him to have the level of comfort that he had grown accustomed to by this point, and discreet enough that they didn't ask any questions about the ladyfriend that he brought with him or the three sets of fairly elegant, even if not tailored clothes. One dress, one set of casual / work clothes akin to the standard of Nar Shaddaa, and one set of nightclothes that, while revealing, did leave enough to the imagination for SOME modesty.

The outfits were brought up, along with a few trays of food. Brad thanked the serviceman, probably a slave himself, and closed the door, locking it and pocketing the room key. He withdrew the key to the girl's bindings from his other pocket and tossed it to her, making sure that it landed at her feet.

"There. Those things probably don't feel too great. If you're hungry there's food, if you want to change, there's clothes. I'm going to go take a shower. The door's locked and mag sealed so I wouldn't try to run. If you think it's a good idea and you think you can get past the door and the guards downstairs, you might want to rethink your plan. You can't, and I'm sure some hutt somewhere would love to get their hands on a runaway Corellian slave girl. That's punishment in itself. I'll be back"

Brad made his way into the refresher and turned on the water. Her move.

[z-Hana Rexius]

She picked up the key and was undoing the constraints before he'd finished talking. She couldn't do anything with her hands tied, and Hana intended to do something quickly. It probably wasn't what Brad was expecting at all. Hana knew she was in trouble, and this time, she couldn't do it alone.

The hotel room had a comm; all fancy hotels did. It was a simple matter to contact a friend and ask him for a favor. Dar, hit a bit of back luck. I need you to get to my stuff on Nar Hutta, pack it into Arfour and send him to whomever Father has hunting for me.

After a moment, he replied, Those Jedi?

"Those?" As in more than one?

Kinda. Two Padawan make a whole, right?

"Baby Jedi," she whispered under her breath. Still, she was quietly relieved that someone strong with the Force was coming for her. Look, Arfour needs to get to them, so when I escape, he and my stuff aren't left behind.

Escape? Holli, what have you gotten yourself into?

The shower shut off, and Hana grimaced. Later just do it.

When Brad entered the room, she was stuffing her face in the least appealling way possible. With only the slightest of grimaces, she wiped her greasy mouth off on the arm of her shirt before rubbing her greasy fingers down her legs. "Food's good," she said with a full mouth.

[DirtyRottenScoundrel]

Brad was moderately amused by this one. The resmblance was there, but it was rapidly getting hidden beneath the layer of crud and grease. He was going to have to get rid of that somehow.

He reached into the refresher and withdrew a towel. Stepping to the side, leaving an opening into the refresher and an obvious unspoken direction to come and take it from him. "Your turn"

[z-Hana Rexius]

"No way," Hana grumbled. "I ain't gonna shower." She gazed at him defiantly. Come on. Come and get me. You know you want to - wouldn't do to have your slave stink, would it?

The plan was simple. Lure him close. Hit him over the head. Turn out his pockets and run like hell.

[DirtyRottenScoundrel]

Brad almost chuckled at that one. Yep, she was Corellian alright. "Have it your way. It just seems like a waste of a perfectly good room to not use its facilities. But whatever, you can smell bad if you want to, I don't care one way or the other."

Brad plopped the towel down in a neat little bundle next to the door and walked over to a rather comfortable looking chair, setting down into it. At this point he was clad in some well made long pants, had his jacket draped over the seat behind him, and that was about it. He turned on the room's vidscreen and turned through the channels until one of those televised sabacc tournaments came on. It was a rerun, the ones they televised usually only came once or twice a year, but still, it was something.

"So, do you have a name or should I just call you 'Girl that doesn't like showers?'"

[z-Hana Rexius]

"I'm your slave," Hana spit bitterly. "Call me whatever you want." Rudely, she grabbed the other plate and started to eat it, too. She wasn't hungry; eating was a chore because she was already full and her stomach was knotting up with tension.

"Fair enough, 'lady who doesn't know how lucky she is that some hutt sex fiend didn't pick her out of a lineup' it is," her 'owner' said, right as Hana lunged forward, swinging the plate at the back of his head.

[DirtyRottenScoundrel]

Brad heard the rapid footsteps and some part of his brain knew exactly what was going to happen next. Way to go, Lancelot, you shouldn't have taken the chains off. This is going to hurt. All of a sudden his vision flashed red and there was a ceramic crash as the girl's plate shattered over the back of his head. His world was spinning for a few seconds and he stood up and reached out. His hand found her shoulder, which he grabbed onto tightly.

"That....." he started as he reached into the jacket pocket and fumbled around for his blaster, pulling it out and placing the bad end against her stomach.

"Wasn't....." He flipped it over to stun. At this point she was swinging at him pretty hard with her other arm. His grip on her shoulder had the one effectively immobilized, but the other one was connecting over and over again. He noticed, but didn't really care. She had just hit him with a blasted plate. She could flail away.

"Nice....." He pulled the trigger and there was a flash of blue light. Just in time;

she grabbed his wrist and broke his grip on her shoulder, but she didn't have the time to follow through. He could feel the tingle of ions through his hands, but knew that it was only a small taste of what the girl was going to be feeling. Almost immediately he watched her eyes constrict completely until the pupils were little black pinpricks.

She slumped to the floor like so much dead weight. "By the fucking Force, that hurt. Dammit." He felt the back of his head, it stung. A lot. Feeling about a bit and flinching the whole time, he felt a bit of ceramic sticking out of his skin. "Dammit. That was completely uncalled for" He walked into the refresher and pulled the bit of plate from his head. It wasn't big enough to mean any serious damage, but it was still painful. He ran his head under the shower water for a couple minutes, just waiting for the bleeding to stop while feeling around for more ceramic bits. There were a couple.

He stood up straight and dried his hair off, looking back at the heap on the floor. "You had to go and do things the hard way, didn't you? Ok..." He made his way over to her and with a heave, hefted her up onto his shoulder.

[SalmonMax]

In response to Sparrow's look, Kestrel just shrugged. It was hard to tell sometimes how seriously she was taking this. Right now, she seemed almost to be enjoying herself, though it was clear from the way her eyes pinched that she disapproved of the slave market.

Then, with all the subtlety and nuance Sparrow has come to expect from the Echani...which is to say, none...she says, "We can either buy her or fight for her. We probably don't have enough money to buy her. Fighting for her here is too dangerous...she could get hurt."

She considers for a moment, then says, "Since we don't have any good options yet, we should wait and see what develops."

The slave trading is brisk, and brutal on the two young Jedi's sensibilities. Sentient beings, traded away like cattle. Most of them were horribly empty looking...distant, dead eyes that had long ago retreated from their predicament. Some still had the will to fight, or at least plead. And there was nothing that could be done.

Something was wrong. The girl wasn't coming out.

Kestrel leans over to Sparrow and murmurs, "I think we need to talk to this Tilly woman. I think if they had her, they'd have tried to sell her by now. Someone may already have bought her."

[Sparrow]

Sparrow nodded.

"I'll try and find out."

She worked her way to the side of the main stage and came up beside one of the guards that they had both seen taking the slaves from the holding area. Sparrow talked quietly with him for almost a minute then she shook his hand.

The guard looked at his hand, shrugged and whispered something to Sparrow. She smiled, nodded and headed back to Kestral.

"I have a name and a description. Brad Olen - Gambler. It will take a little time to figure out were he lives, but ... wait."

Sparrow took Kestral's hand and led her outside and around to the side.

"Try to look less ... aggressive," she told her companion.

Sparrow walked up to one of the guards who stood guard around the entrance.

"Hello," she said in her most appealing, least intelligent voice. "Brad Olen wanted us to follow him to his digs, but we got ... um ... distracted? Could you have the transport that took him also take us. We don't want to be late. Please ..."

The guard studied her for a moment, but her whole demeanor was so ... innocent and guiless. Besides, no telling who would get pissed off if these two were left here.

"Brad who?"

Sparrow described her new target. She added,

"He has that new Corellian he just purchased too."

"Oh, him." There weren't too many humans here today, thankfully. "I can get you the transport."

"Thank you," she beamed.

As good as his word, a transport returned. They were soon dropped off at a rather non-descript if rather well-situated hostel. Once in the lobby, Sparrow looked around. Worry on her face,

"It will probably take some favor from the Force to get us up to his room without being noticed and I'm loath to do it. We could just talk to him and ask him to return the girl ... Hana."

"Otherwise, we are going to be breaking some serious laws here adn that means the authorities will be after us pretty quick. What do you suggest?"

[z-Hana Rexius]

Her head spun. Lately, waking up with some part of her body feeling pain meant she was in trouble, she so just lay for a second, listening and feeling. Listening brought concern; she could hear the viewer going, with some kind of game on it. Feeling brought mortification; the garment she was in was the skimpy nightgown her bastard-owner had gotten her.

Oh, no, she thought. Oh, no, ohno ohnoohno... This was exactly what she'd been trying to avoid. She was, she also realized, clean.

He'd washed her.

He'd dressed her.

He'd seen her naked.

That last would have been the worst thought, except her mind went one step further; what else had he done to her?

She couldn't pretend to be asleep much longer. For starters, she was starting to shiver so hard that he'd notice soon. So she moved, and when she did, the restraints around her wrists pulled, and the chain connected to those restraints clinked. Trying to hide rising tears of frustration in an angry snarl, she grabbed the chain, testing its strength. Being as it was a chain, it was stronger than her. He'd chained her to a loop on the mattress, though, and that might give, if she worked at it.

I am going to strangle you to death with this chain, Hana thought, and the hate in her own mind scared her so much she immediately repented. "Fear, anger and hate are of the Dark Side, and they will lead you astray." Master Jandar's words flowed back to her, given as an admonishment to a young Padawan. But Hana had overheard, and the words given to another had become her own. Sighing, she forced herself to calm.

She'd been reacting in fear so far. Time to start thinking. Besides, the worst, what she was so afraid of, may have already happened. She took an odd comfort in that thought, that the worst was behind her and pulled herself into a sitting position. She didn't feel any changes that might signal that The Worst had happened, but that meant little to someone who only had a passing knowledge of that. So she might be fine; he was trying to be a little considerate - there was a shirt wrapped around the restraints turning them from painful to tolerable. She glanced at him, to see what he was doing.

Her bastard-owner was fully dressed now, and armed, and Hana tried not to be amused that her stunt had earned her some respect from him. Swallowing hard and trying not to be afraid, she covered herself as best as she could and waited for him to say or do something.

[SalmonMax]

"Lets find out what room they're in," Kestrel suggests calmly. Her voice and expression betrayed nothing of what might be going on inside her. That much of Jedi training she'd taken to easily. If anything she went a bit far with it.

"Then we should go to that room. I don't think it matters if someone notices us. People noticed us at the slave auction, and we were much more threatening there than here. If he doesn't let us in, we'll decide the next step. Just tell him we want to talk."

She nods at the door, clearly expecting Sparrow to talk her way in.

[DirtyRottenScoundrel]

As the now quite attractive and considerably less rank woman on his bed started to move, Brad looked over at her with a half smile. It was rather hard to tell whether he was amused or irritated. Either way, he was sitting considerably further away than she could reach. Being that plates hurt, he had moved anything and everything that he could away from where she was.

"Morning, sunshine. Didn't want to have to put the restraints back on, but plates hurt, you know. That and ceramic is expensive out here. Especially the real kind."

He sat forward and keyed a datapad that he had sitting next to him.

"So you'll never believe this, but I think I've found myself a true to life missing person. And you'll never believe who it is. Get this. Princess Hollenhannah Raechael Wyzendorf. Holli, for short. Age 18, daughter of Queen Raechael Wyzendorf, youngest in a family of.... a lot. Missing for several months now after beating the living shit out of half-brother and Heir Apparent to the Corellian throne Tristan in a starfighter race and leaving him sucking jetwash."

He could see the look in her eyes. It was the same look that little children had when you found that they had not only stolen a cookie from the jar, they had jacked the whole jar. She was trying to hide it under a demeanor of cluelessness, but he wasn't born yesterday. Her pazaak face was garbage.

"Presumed to be on sabbatical. Some sabbatical. So what in the name of anything are you doing out here? More importantly, what were you doing on a slaver's block?"

[Sparrow]

Sparrow nodded sadly. She knew of no other way to not give the young man warning, and thus put Hana's life more at risk. Spying the front counter, she waited until the manager went into the office. She got up and went over to the desk clerk.

" Please tell me the room number of Brad Olen. He is the man who came in with the Corellian slave girl."

Dully the man nodded and looked up the information.

"Room three-twenty eight," he told her. His mind became clearer and he smiled at her, nothing out of the norm.

"Could you do me a big favor and give me the other room key, please? I want to surprise him."

For a moment he hesitated, but the girl before him seemed so sincere and honest. He handed her the key.

Rejoining, Sparrow pulled Kestral over to lift and they went up to the third floor. In the lift, she handed the key to Kestral.

"We have his room and we have a key? How do you want to handle this? I mean, we should try to subdue him and tie him up. We can be off-Moon before anyone is the wiser."

[SalmonMax]

"When we get to the room, count to three and open the door. I'll go in first and make sure there's no danger. Then you come in."

Kestrel runs over it again in her head and nods. It all seemed fairly simple to her. She wasn't sure why Sparrow kept hedging.

When they reached the door, Kestrel nodded at her companion.

"Remember, on three."

The moment the door opened, she was through it, lightsaber in her hand but unlit.

[z-Hana Rexius]

Hana fought both dismay and irritation. I knew I should have dyed my hair, she grumped to herself. She couldn't hide her expression, so she shrugged. "Call me Holli, if it makes you feel better. I'm just an unlucky soul who got screwed on a job for a Hutt and ended up on the block." She thought of another for a moment and added, "And my friend. She must have been sold through someone else." Her eyes dropped to her hands, clenching the chain. Anger tried to storm through her, and she choked it back. "Fear, anger and hate are of the Dark Side..."

"Unlucky royal soul on a job that sent you to Nar Shaddaa for a Hutt. That's pretty unlucky. Who's your friend?" the scoundrel lounging warily asked. "Not a sibling, I imagine."

"Donata. She was my friend, a Twi'lek." Hana felt her face twist with anger. "I know what happens to Twi'leks in a slave auction."

"The same thing that usually happens to young human girls, I imagine. Don't worry, I haven't done anything to you," her bastard-owner replied. "And by Hutt law, as long as you're with me, nobody can."

Read: Do as I demand and you'll be safe. Defy me, and I'll sell you to the Hutts. Relief and fear mingled in her. "Except you," Hana replied, her chin rising as she tried to be brave. "You can do anything you want. If you think I've fought you so far, wait until..." She couldn't even say it aloud.

He sat and waited for her to finish the sentence. "Until what?"

Hana swallowed visibly and said, "You try something I don't approve of."

He had a sort of skeptical look on his face at this point. "Yeah. Right. Look Princess, if I wanted to do anything to you, it would be over and done with. Truth is, I don't do that. Those people that I do anything with universally approve wholeheartedly. I don't do the whole 'unwilling' thing."

"You should just let me go," she said. I will not beg. "I can't cook or clean. I'm clumsy." I will not beg. "I'll make you miserable."

"I'll let you go if you really want to, but you should know that there's a few things attached to that. If I just let you walk out that door, you will be back on the Hutt block within 24 hours. This isn't Corellia, and you're not the pretty pretty Princess here. You'll likely end up on the receiving end of treatment that you would rather not think about, then probably dead and broken in the street. If that's what you want, the door's right there. The other option is that I get a hold of your people and they come and get you, you go home safe and sound. But I don't think you want that either." He shrugged, perhaps in response to her suggestion. "Let's face it, you don't accidentally end up working for the Hutts when you're royalty. You wanted out for some reason. Who the hell knows what that is."

The talk made her nervous, and Hana engaged in an old habit that infuriated her mother. She hooked a nail on her teeth and started to chew. It was at that moment that the door burst open, and two young Jedi entered the room.

"Or your people are already here," her owner added. "Awesome. Made the decision for you." Brad was on his feet in a moment, a blaster in each hand. "Typical f'king Jedi, don't know what knocking is. Thank you for trespassing by the way, feel free to leave at any time."

Nobody told her what to do anymore; that was why she’d left home. And no one else was getting her for her, ever again. Hana surged to her feet, throwing out her hands. "Wait, stop! He rescued me from the slavers!" She remembered what he'd dressed her in. "Eh... he's kinda a jackass, too. But he saved me." The lie grated, but as far as lies went, it wasn't bad.

[SalmonMax]

Kestrel was not stupid, but she tended to be stubbornly direct. It didn't occur to her to question Hana's motives in making the statement, and even if it had, she wouldn't have bothered. She'd find out in due time, if it was important to.

The bar of light she'd ignited on seeing the blaster was crossed in front of her defensively, ready to interpose itself if need be.

At Hana's plea, she nods and turns the lightsaber off.

"In that case, I apologize for breaking in. We had no way to know if Hana was in danger. It seemed best to assume the worst."

As Sparrow took her place beside her, she said, "I'm Kestrel. This is..."

Her pale blue eyes narrowed as she trailed off.

"Is that a chain?" she asks.

[DirtyRottenScoundrel]

Brad acknowledged the two Jedi's existences, and that the one who was talking had disengaged her lightsaber. This in no way meant that Brad was going to lower his blasters.

"In that case, I apologize for breaking in. We had no way to know if Hana was in danger. It seemed best to assume the worst."

Hana, eh? So that's what she's going by for the moment. ok. And of course it's standard Jedi protocol to assume the worst. Why does that always seem to happen with these people?

"I'm Kestrel. This is... Is that a chain?"

Brad nodded, matter-of-factly. "Yep. Two of them, actually. I tried letting her walk around without them at first and then she decided it was a good idea to break a plate over my head" The scoundrel nodded over towards the shards of broken ceramic and wet, bloody towel across the room. "I decided that I didn't like that and so she's being restrained until we get better acquainted. I take it you're the Royal Retrievers?"

[Sparrow]

"I take it you're the Royal Retrievers?"

Sparrow moved in behind Kestral and to her right.

"That has yet to be decided," she says eyeing the young rogue before her.

"What we do know is that she is a citizen of the Republic that had been stolen away and we would like to rectify that situation if possilbe. We are not the jailors here, but liberators ... if need be."

"Now, if you did rescue Hana from the clutch of the slavers then we are in your debt," Sparrow bows her head slightly in a show of respect. "We owe you for this kindness you have shown a fellow sentient being. We are reluctant thieves at best. It is not our normal practice to pass judgement on another cultures practices. In fact, it is arrogant on our part to do so."

"But, we are on a mission here. If you are aiding us, you will have the gratitude of all three of us, truly. We jedi repay what we all to every debt honestly given."

"Now what can we do to convince you our gestures are genuine?"

"Also, if she injured you," Sparrow adds with sheer innocence, "I can do something about that."

[SalmonMax]

"And while there's convincing going on," Kestrel adds, "Why don't you put the blaster away? Then you can explain why your 'rescue' involves chaining her to a bed after she hit you with dinnerware."

[DirtyRottenScoundrel]

"Why don't you put the blaster away? Then you can explain why your 'rescue' involves chaining her to a bed after she hit you with dinnerware."

"Because it's more comfortable than a heating unit. And as far as whether I'm aiding you after you come busting into my room and interrupt a very nice conversation, it all depends on what exactly your mission is"

[z-Hana Rexius]

"It is a simple misunderstanding, Mr... Owner," Hana said in her most diplomatic voice. She unconsciously straightened up and shifted her posture, holding herself with a far more regal bearing than before. Even the borderline trampy clothing couldn't hide that she'd been taught to act like this. "They thought they were rescuing a young woman from a slaver."

Turning to the Jedi, she continued, "I attacked him, after he'd offered me food and hospitality. Securing me to something until he could reason with me is just good sense. He's already said I could go, if I really wanted to leave." Hana tried to gauge how well her words were being recieved. "But I'm not going home, either. I have a friend to rescue. She wouldn't leave me behind, and I won't leave her."

[SalmonMax]

Kestrel glances at Sparrow, then back at the other two. She then says, "If we help you rescue your friend, will you come back with us?"

[Sparrow]

"And as far as whether I'm aiding you after you come busting into my room and interrupt a very nice conversation, it all depends on what exactly your mission is."

Sparrow clears her voice.

"I was sent to Nal Hutta to locate a lost Princess of Corellia. I came to Nar Shadda to rescue Hana Rexius from the Slaver Ms. Tilly," she says solemnly.

"It is one thing to try and convince a Royal that her responsibilities and duties are with her people. Failing that, we could at least report back to her family that she was in good spirits and fine health. We do not kidnap people."

"We could not knowingly leave her in the clutches of those who would do her harm ... so we followed Hana here, because we were the only companions - all be it unknown companions - she had left."

Addressing Hana for the first time,

"We will see what we can do about your friend. Our resources are limited right now, we are on an unfriendly Moon in the Center of Hutt Space, and the three of us are essentially alone. Their laws here are rather clear on Slavery. We need a plan. Failing a good plan, and I mean a really good plan, we may need to regroup and come back for Donata when we have a chance that's better than slim and none. I'm sorry."

[z-Hana Rexius]

Her owner looked irritated by Sparrow's remark; whether he didn't like being cut out ofthe conversation or because he was seeing his investiment disappear, Hana wasn't sure. But she had other issues that she needed to address with Sparrow and Kestrel first.

Her voice was respectful when she addressed Kestrel, taking her question first. "Jedi Kestrel, I will go home when I am ready. If that means that you won't offer me help now, ok. I'll do it alone."

Turning to Sparrow, Hana shook her head stubbornly. "With all due respect, Jedi Sparrow, I'm not leaving her," she said simply, "and if that leaves me in the heart of danger, then so be it. We'll come up with something, and honestly, we need to find out her situation before we make any plans or movements."

She turned to her owner. "Besides, I owe a debt to this man as well. He paid his own money to rescue me. And what is your name?" She was really tired of calling him variations on 'owner' in her head.

"Call me Brad," he said.

Half a name was better than none. "Brad, I'm not going to try to hurt you again, and neither will the Jedi," Hana said firmly. Her tone suggested that they most certainly would not. "I'll find a way to compensate you fully for what you've done. So you can put away the blasters and we can talk about this like civilized people? And if you wouldn't mind, can you please open the restraints?"

[DirtyRottenScoundrel]

Brad knew his investment wasn’t going to disappear from in front of him. These Jedi whether they knew it or not, had three options. The first option being, of course, to deal. They seemed to have it stuck in their head that now that they had “rescued the princess” they would be at her side until she could be sent back to mommy & daddy. He could see plainly how well “Hana” was taking that idea. The second option was to get the hell out and go about their business. That likely wasn’t going to happen, so that led to the third option. They do the “we’re leaving and she’s coming with us” routine and basically cause him to be out five grand and a perfectly good servant. Yeah, that wouldn’t fly. He would pay five times that to have their asses brought back to him. Money wasn’t the point, it was the principle. He would not be pushed around by a bunch of Force wizards.

When Hana said her piece, he looked at the Jedi cautiously. She wasn’t Jedi and it looked like they actually listened to her, by their speech patterns and hers. When she said that he would be compensated, he wondered if she knew what exactly that would entail. Missing royalty is a hell of a reward. Five thousand is squat next to that. And if she didn’t want to be brought back, she would have to repay it in services rendered. An idea that he was perfectly ok with. He walked over, pocketed his blasters, and opened her chains, dropping them next to the rest of the stuff he had taken away from the bed.

“There you go, what did you have in mind?”

[Sparrow]

Sparrow was noticably happier now that the chains had come off and the blaster were put away. She reached back and shut the door behind her and Kestral. She then moved out of Kestral's shadow so she could better face Hana.

"May I sit down?" she asked Brad.

He gave her a grudging nod. Sparrow whispered a 'thank you' then sat down next to Hana. She took a moment before addressing the scantily clad young Royal.

"I'm not going to waste any of our time talking to you about how much your family wants you back. Instead, what can you tell me about Donata, what happened on Kintan, and when did you last saw her," she says ticking off her points professionally.

"While you're at it, who were you working for on the Kintan run? What were you carrying? From what I was able to gather you were actually working for one of the low level Hutts, so grabbing you and bringing you here doesn't make much sense. You should have been protected."

Sparrow reaches out and touches one of Hana's hands.

"If we rush into this with too much passion and not enough sense, we won't be helping anyone but the next person to own us all. I don't see you getting this lucky twice," eyes flitting up to Brad at the mention of the word lucky.

[z-Hana Rexius]

“There you go, what did you have in mind?” Her erstwhile master, now rescuer looked down at her, and she got the feeling that he was talking about more than her plans. From what she'd seen of him, he might be demanding repayment right now. "My plan is to find Donata," she said. "I'll work out a way to repay you, but it won't be immediately. You will be repayed completely."

Hana shifted a little on the bed. "I last saw Donata when we left Kintan's atmosphere," Hana started. "The job was a milk run; we were supposed to pick up crates of foodstock. We loaded them up and started right back. We were in space, and I was starting to figure the hyperspace jump." She frowned. "Then there were two men on the ship. They couldn't have been onboard, and there was no good way to sneak onboard." She snapped her fingers. "Of course. The boxes. There were extra ones there, but they were all marked to be taken. They were in the shipment and jumped us when we cleared the gravity well."

Hana stood up, realized that the nightgown was a little too short for comfort and blushed. "Before we go any further, could I please get some more clothing?"

Brad pretended to consider for a moment, then wiped away an imaginary tear and pointed to the door to the refresher. Her clothes were piled there. Her old clothes hadn't been cleaned, and Hana passed them over to scoop up the set of work clothes he'd bought her. She ignored the dress - what had he thought she was going to do with that? She ducked into the refresher and closed the door enough for privacy, but kept talking.

"The guy's name was Zar... Motted or something like that," Hana said as she hurriedly changed. "I didn't meet him; Donata set the job up. I didn't know he or she worked for Kihda the Hutt until we were mid-run. I really didn't know much about what was going on, which, in hindsight, was dumb." She finished zipping up the suit and stepped back out into the main room.

"I have no intention of acting all crazy," Hana said to Sparrow. "Acting out of fear already lead to me reacting with violence, which only hurt Brad and I. Getting Donata out alive and safe will require some careful planning." She sat on the bed, bit her lip and added, "There's a complication; Donata once told me that she was a rare kind of Twi'lek - something called 'Rutian.' She used to go out with a cloak and gloves to keep from being spotted. We were saving up money to get out of Hutt space so that she wouldn't be in so much danger. But that will make it easier and harder to find her, I imagine."

[Sparrow]

"Acting out of fear already lead to me reacting with violence, which only hurt Brad and I."

Sparrow nods at that piece of wisdom. It boded well.

"Getting Donata out alive and safe will require some careful planning. There's a complication; Donata once told me that she was a rare kind of Twi'lek - something called 'Rutian.' She used to go out with a cloak and gloves to keep from being spotted. We were saving up money to get out of Hutt space so that she wouldn't be in so much danger. But that will make it easier and harder to find her, I imagine."

A complication was an understatement. The Twi'lek was a valuale commodity. Sparrow had to fight down the despair she was feeling. Fear was one of the portals to the Dark Side. Instead, she concentrated on what they had.

"Well, we have something," Sparrow said trying to sound upbeat. "We have some names and since we are still in Hutt space, we can guess that one Hutt is battling another. Maybe the Hutt you were working for won't mind using us against his, or her, enemy."

"There is also Ms. Tilly who brought you here."

Looking into the eyes of the girl not much older than herself, Sparrow spoke with a calming confidence that came with knowing the Force was your Ally.

"Hana, we are going to need allies in this. Going up against the plots of Criminal Syndicates is not the normal providence of Jedi Padawan. Were are we going to find help?"

There was no need to tell Hana that the Jedi only had passage for three away from here, and then only to Nal Hutta. They couldn't even escape the Fringe. No, Hana wanted no talk about getting away at this very moment. Instead, she moved away from the desperation of their plight. She pushed her mind toward Hope.

She looked at Hana's former captor, a nuetral expression on her wholesome features.

"Brad Olen, will you help us?"

[DirtyRottenScoundrel]

Brad was more than a little surprised that Sparrow hadn't dropped the "knight in shining armor" voice pattern by now. Who did she think she was impressing?

"Brad Olen, will you help us?"

Sure, under the condition that you stop talking like that and start talking like a real person.

"Well, you guys have about a snowball's chance in hell if you think you're going to 'go up against' a hutt with just the group of you. Even if you did know where to start, odds are pretty good that you're going after Siddo. Especially if your Twi'lek friend was working for Khiba. Siddo isn't exactly a sentimental sort."

His eyes drifted over the two Jedi and the princess, who probably didn't even know how good she looked in that outfit. Ordered if not from a tailor, then at least to complement her appearance. "Personally I think it's suicide, but..." He trailed off for a bit, letting the drama hang in the air for a bit. "I think I could be persuaded to lend a hand"

[z-Hana Rexius]

Hana absently began to chew on her fingernail again, deep in thought. Where would we find help? There's Brad, but he's just one man. There are always people for hire, but we're going to need a lot more money than we currently have. We'll need some muscle, some skulkers... You're getting ahead of yourself, Holli. You need information, first. One step at a time.

After a moment, she said, "Nothing is suicide, not if we plan right." Her blue eyes rose to rest on Brad. "Can you get us information about Siddo the Hutt? Specifically, can you find a way to track his merchandise? I figure that's a lot to ask, and will probably take some time. But we have to find out where Siddo's selling her at, or... to." Hana swallowed and tried not to look scared. She was going to try very hard to not think about what was happening to Donata while she scrambled to rescue her.

"Hey... Brad... your date with Ms. Tilly," Hana said suddenly, her features brightening as she had an idea. "You could find out something from her, while you're with her, right?"

[SalmonMax]

Kestrel gives Brad a raised eyebrow.

"You have a date with her? After pretending to purchase Hana, you're still going on a date with her?"

[DirtyRottenScoundrel]

"You have a date with her? After pretending to purchase Hana, you're still going on a date with her?"

Brad looked at Kestrel and matched her raised eyebrow, a half smile showing on his face. "Absolutely. Have you seen this woman? I would be almost willing to bet that you would want to date her too if it wasn't for the whole Jedi vows thing"