Jan Lomona and the Sirens of Amagad-Chapter One

Chapter One

The journey back to Amagad was uneventful, and Jan took the time to do minor repairs to the Sunrise. Frans kept herself busy by trying to concoct a way to placate Glann’s temper without making it explode all over the Greater Amagad City area. A lot had depended on this run. Many of Glann Cipples operations had been squeezed by the rapid expansion of the Hutt clans and profits were markedly down. While Cipple was still the major operator in the Setnin Sector, on the outer edge of the Mid-Rim, his concerns farther a field were dwindling. He was determined not to let that happen. So, as a consequence his best smugglers, gunmen, mercenaries, anyone with a working knowledge on how to operate profitable runs were regularly being sent out on missions to establish new trade routes. And when Jan Lomona had returned from a trip to the Ganp Sector saying he’d heard rumours of a spice run direct to the Core Worlds that hadn’t yet been blockaded by Imperial picket ships, Cipple knew he had to see some of the action. Even if it did mean sharing, initially, the run with smaller operators from outside his sphere of influence. Jan and Frans knew that he would be, to say the least, displeased when he learned the entire project was a get rich quick scam by a quartet of small-time operators. Jan could handle that. He was confident in his ability to make things sound clear to his boss, but how he was going to exonerate Gaalent he didn’t know. So, Gaalent had tried to pull a fast one on him when Jan learned it was a scam. So he’d pulled a blaster rifle on him. So he’d moved his ship. These things happened all the time in the smuggling trade. If a guy wasn’t smart enough to see it coming then he had no business plying his trade out here on the rough end of the Rim. Besides, it wasn’t anything Jan hadn’t done to other, more gullible players before. The real trick was getting away with it.

Jan and Frans were disturbed from their thoughts by the sharp bleeping sound of the hyperdrive alert system, telling them their destination point was imminent.

“Get that will you honey, I’m up to my eyes in Space Tape.” Jan smiled as he heard the affirmative groan from Frans, and the clanking servomotors of his droid Aurran making his way to the cockpit to assist Frans.

“Mistress Latka, will you require my assistance in this landing procedure? Or will you once again request me to take an oil bath in a Banthas cesspit?”

Frans grinned. It had taken years but Aurran had finally come to terms with her sense of humour. Come to think of it, it had taken her years to acquire one. Of late she had come to the way of thinking that it was a big universe, and that she had a very short time to use it. And of course Jan was the sort of guy to use it to the full, so why not join him? They had been together for as long as she could remember, since they were small children back on A-desando, and even when Jan had to leave his home because of family troubles, even when he had decided to become a smuggler and work for the likes of Jabba the Hutt and Jomobol Pocock she had waited for him. Not always the best way to run a relationship, Frans knew that. Yet it worked despite their troubles and when Jan asked her to be his fiancé again three years ago she was as happy as she had ever been. That was when she decided to accompany Jan on more and more of his journeys. It had been some fun.

“No Aurran, you can help me out. Just this once. Adjust the trim and comm traffic control on Amagad. Tell them we’re coming in.”

Rain clouds smothered the compact city of Amagad, light rain glistening on the rooftops. Birds swooped low in the sky over the lush green that ran rampant through the streets and up the buildings walls as the Berone Sunrise blistered through the cover and hovered above the landing bays. Below, two droids waved the freighter down with light sticks, directing her to a large docking bay. Expertly, Frans guided the A-desandian ship to the bay and set her gently down on the permacrete. Steam plumed from the hull of the Sunrise as her cooling hull met with the soft downpour. Two other droids arrived and began setting up power leads and cables to begin the job of powering up the Sunrise for her next flight, whenever that would be. Inside, Jan came out from the engine room, covered in grease and space tape and made his way to Frans in the cockpit. He met her in the main corridor collecting her belongings and sat next to her, grabbing the steaming hot mug of Chav that she had prepared for him.

“Everything check out?” She queried as he blew at the hot drink. Jan hated repairs, almost as much as he hated getting dirty. But he was good at it, and Frans kind of liked to see him dirty. “I could hear you cursing from the other end of the ship.”

Jan frowned in agreement as he wiped his hands on a damp rag.

“It’s that power relay we picked up from Romanoe on the last overhaul. He thinks it’s a Ridley Powcorp unit but I think it’s just a reconditioned Bezzren with a Ridley casing welded on. Looks like I was right.” He took a gulp from his Chav. “I hate being right all the time. Always ends up costing me something.”

Sliding nearer to him on the couch Frans pecked him on the cheek and put her hand on his shoulder.

“Well you were right about one thing that hasn’t cost you anything.”

Jan raised his eyebrows in interest.

“Oh yeah? What’s that then?”

She leaned over and kissed him again, this time full and hard on the lips.

“Me.”

Just as Jan had swung around to give the kiss his full attention the door alarm sounded and the mood of the moment was broken. Who the hell knew they were even back in town - the engines had barely had time to cool down?

“Hold that thought honey,” he smiled as he checked the door camera to see who was waiting on the ramp. “I’ll get rid of the canvasser with the lousy timing and then we can really…”

Frans’ smile faded as she saw the look of shock on Jan’s face. Who could it be that would stun Jan into silence so suddenly?

“Who is it?”

Jan turned slowly and placed his cup down on the side.

“It’s Glann.”

“Glann? Glann Cipple? What’s he doing here?” She sounded worried, and with good reason. It was a known fact throughout smuggling circles that there were two almost absolute certainties in modern smuggling. One was that Jabba the Hutt wouldn’t save the last dance for anyone and the other was that Glann Cipple never, never left his Fortress. For nothing. Unless it was of the most desperate importance. Jan gulped. This must’ve hit the fan with the force of a herd of Banthas.

“Go to the bedroom. Pick out something suitable and get changed. And while you’re there choose something for me. This is either good news or a one way trip to the Old Spacers Home.”

She nodded and jogged off to their quarters. Lomona gulped and pushed the door release. With a whoosh of air the blast door rose, revealing the grim visage of the most powerful man in the sector. Including the Grand Moff.

“Were you planning on coming to see me Captain?” Glann growled, “Or would I have read about your exploits in the Amagad Express.”

Jan had trouble judging Cipples mood. That he could at all was unusual, not many people could. Which was to the crime lord’s distinct advantage. He began striding up the ramp into Jans Freighter.

“Whoa, wait a second.” Jan ducked out of sight for a moment as Glann frowned at the delay. Lomona returned a second later with a relieved look on his face. “I hadn’t switched off the security grid. If you’d come on board it would have turned you into shredded Cipple.”

Jan tried to sound relaxed and at ease. He failed miserably. Cipple continued up the ramp, followed by three aides, all of whom Jan recognised. Glann walked through the main area with the assured stride of a man who knew exactly where he was going and down into the kitchen area. Jan followed, now completely non-plussed. Cipples aides followed and blocked the doorway. Jan knew Kollspar, one of Cipples accountant drones. To his left stood Melm, a tall, middle-aged human who was the head of Glann’s elite Shadow Warrior team. Not much was known about the activities of the Shadow Warriors, only that when Glann needed a job doing, and wanted no loose ends then a Shadow Warrior was dispatched. Glann’s third aide was a character Jan knew only too well. Carlonian Feese was among the most feared assassins in the Setnin Sector. A native of the aquatic world of Mon Calamari, Feese suffered terrible wounds during an accident many years ago. The resulting years twisted him into a lethal killer, and the mysterious cloak and face shield that covered his deformed features only helped shroud him in even more mystery. Glann hadn’t left his stronghold unprotected. If Jan’s time was up he could be dead in a Mos Eisley minute.

“I can only presume from the look on your usually confident face that you haven’t a clue as to why I’m here?” He paused as he grabbed four cups. “Can’t you guess?”

Cipple waited. Jan could see the blank faces of the three aides looking back at him. No, he couldn’t guess. The mission to Gista had been important, and its negative outcome would doubtless be of annoyance to Glann and his operation but it certainly wasn’t enough to draw him from the safety of his stronghold. Jan expected to be hauled over the coals on the plush carpet of Glann’s office. Maybe Glann would have Feese cover the carpet with a plastic sheet, just to get Jan thinking. No, this was something else entirely and it had peaked his interest. Jan shook his head in answer to Cipples question. Turning from Jan, Glann switched on the wall unit to prepare the four drinks. Kollspar stepped forward to do the apparent menial task for his employer but Glann pushed him away.

“Despite the failure of your mission to Gista I have had other coals in the fire. As you are aware I have had various agents out in the field looking for similar avenues of opportunity, to spread my net over a wider area. So far, all of you have failed.” He cast a withering glance at the four men as he stirred the drinks. “However, yesterday evening after our last briefing I received a letter-search from a past associate of mine who I haven’t spoken to for twenty years. His name is Dessio D’Staan. He’s been living in seclusion on the world of Abrogard in the Verlence Sector. And he’s offered me a rather interesting proposition.” Cipple paused, took a sip of the drink and offered the other three drinks to Feese, Melm and Kollspar, ignoring Lomona completely. He glanced at Jan, but the smugglers face betrayed no emotion. “I take it you’ve heard of D’Staan?”

Jan nodded and folded his arms. Yes, he’d heard of D’Staan alright. What self-respecting smuggler hadn’t heard of the crime boss who’d set up lucrative spice runs to the Core Worlds and then double-crossed his partners – Glann, Dressel, Riger and Anzai Karoo? Legend round these parts said he set up the runs and then secured himself in seclusion on a backwater world somewhere. Well, the story of his disappearance was certainly true - the story of it being a backwater world certainly wasn’t. Abrogard was about as near to the Core as any Mid-Rim criminal would go. Unless he was sightseeing on a fake ID

“I’ve heard of D’Staan. I just don’t understand why he would come out of hiding after twenty years. And why he would wait so long to contact you?”

Glann took another swig of his drink and nodded.

“Why don’t we adjourn to the lounge. This story could take a while.”

Once Glann had finished the tale, Jan still couldn’t quite believe it.

“So you will be our envoy to Abrogard. You will take one partner. I insist on one of my men being present.” Glann stood, as did his three aides and began moving towards the door. “Gista could have been a big score. This Jan, this will be a big score. Screw this up and I wouldn’t even think of going near a civilised system again.”

Lomona nodded solemnly, following the men to the ramp hatch. He heard Melm speaking into a comm, saw Feese glare side-ways at him, his dislike for Jan apparent, caught a glimpse of Frans sitting out of sight but within earshot in the next room. She must have realised the scale of what Glann was saying for her not to have entered the lounge. Lucky for her, Jan thought. She might not have wanted to hear all that was said. Glann and his men exited wordlessly as Jan Lomona sealed the hatch in silence. All he could hear was his shallow breathing and the velvet touch of rain on the hull.

“Jan?” Frans announced herself before entering the room. “Honey, are you okay? What did Glann have to say?”

Jan sat on the blast couch with a bump.

“Didn’t you hear?”

She placed herself next to him and shook her head.

“Not all of it. Just bits. I could tell they meant business. As soon as I realised they weren’t here to kill you I stayed out of the way.” She smiled her bright smile again. “Actually, I thought I’d better spend my time picking out a suitable outfit, just like you said.” Frans stood and did a twirl. She was the most beautiful woman Jan had ever known, and she still made his heart feel like candy in his chest, even after all these years.

“First we re-stock the ship. Then we go for a ludicrously expensive night out. Then we make it up as we go along.”

She had landed about fifty kilometres away from Amagad City and had trouble making herself understood to the insistent Rodian that awaited her at the foot of the ramp. No, she was quite happy where she was, a trip to the Core Worlds as the guest of a rich and generous beneficiary was not what she wanted out of life and if he didn’t move he would be needing a rich beneficiary to help him walk straight again. She ran her slender fingers through her bobbed black hair and swung her holdall onto her shoulder. Through he dark rain clouds the sun tried to break its light, but the storm was set and edged its way toward Amagad City. She grimaced and began to walk toward the grimy pool of landspeeders that had collected near the small, one pad landing port and tapped on the shield of the nearest. It’s owner, a grubby looking Ithorian glanced up from whatever he was reading.

“I need a ride. How much into the city?”

The Ithorian nudged a few keys on his dashboard and scratched his large chin.

“Ten credits. In advance.”

She nodded and threw her bag in the back of the speeder, stepping over the side and into the rear. It had begun to drizzle and she had chosen an open-topped speeder. Unzipping her bag she grabbed out a cap and pulled it on her head, bundling the hair under it. As the speeder began its journey from the landing pad the Taxi driver turned around and leered through the clear divider.

“Where in Amagad you want to go, pretty lady?” It said, as if noticing her for the first time.

She frowned. Years out in the field and the first creep to admire me looks like a talking tree-trunk.

“Governor Cipples Fortress. And step on it, I haven’t got all day.”

The Ithorian looked impressed.

“What brings a pretty lady like you to Mister Cipple? What you have to do?”

She grimaced as she eased herself back into the dampening leather seat and tossed him his credits.

“Baby-sit.”

One night, it was said on more than one occasion, was much like another. Planet to planet, city to city, year to year. Good times were what they were wherever or whenever you had them. Jan Lomona had some disgustingly good times during the years he had been in the smuggling trade. In fact, some of the times had been so good he didn’t think he’d ever get around to telling Frans about them. Well, not if he wanted to physically stay in one piece. As he sat alongside Frans in the luxurious hired speeder they had for the night his mind wandered. Did I really do all that? Once, when he was in the massive trade complex of Chancai City on Zelon his good friend Dap Teks had insisted he join a greeting party for a visiting Imperial, Captain Terrov. Obviously, with Jan being such a party animal he could do nothing but accept the invitation. How could he know that the Captains tastes were on the…. exotic side? And given that the Captain was an officer of the Empire how could Jan simply retreat from the party without good reason? Then there was that gunslinger on Corellia, oh what was her name; we’d had an interesting tour of the worlds. And that Bar-owner on Livill, way back when I was just a punk kid starting out for Jabba. She really was something. If I’d been twenty years older…

“Hey dreamy, you’re supposed to be thinking about me tonight.” Frans’ playful nudge brought him back to the present with a guilty twang. He smiled gamely and took her hand in his.

“I’ve booked us a table at the Yapya Restaurant, next to the window. Just where you like it. I thought you’d enjoy a good view of the city. It might be our last for a while.”

Frans nodded and gathered the hem of her long gown as the speeder eased to a halt. Jan climbed out of his side and came round to hers in time to help her out. He shook his head in wonder.

“You look good enough to eat….for an old lady.”

Frans punched him hard in the ribs as they walked in arm in arm.

“You always know how to say just the right things.” She smiled. The two of them laughed as the speeder pulled away and parked around the corner. “Let’s eat.”

As ever the Yapya was buzzing with activity. Of all the eateries in the city this was the most elite. Gance Yapya, founder of the Yapya Restaurant had only ever opened in four locations. Here on Amagad, in Chancai City on Zelon, in Ecaps City on A-desando and a fourth on the industrial world of Wennicas. Jan and Frans had some very special nights dining in all of them. But none as special as the last time they sat at the window in the Amagad Yapya six years ago. It was where Jan had proposed to her for the first time.

“May I take the ladies coat?” A young waiter asked as the couple waited near the check-in desk. Frans smiled as the man took her Hoojib-fur coat and secured it in the cloakroom. Jan had already spotted people he knew in the large room, plus a couple he’d rather not have to acknowledge. After a few moments they were shown to their candle-lit table and were seated. Jan smiled warmly.

“We should do this more often. There’s no reason why we can’t.”

“Apart from jetting around the galaxy and constantly breaking Imperial law you mean?” Frans leaned back and removed the shoulder shawl from her dress, placing it in her handbag. “When are you going to make an honest woman out of me? And yourself?”

“An honest woman out of me?” Smiled Jan. “Somehow I don’t think that would improve our chances for a lasting relationship.” He poured Frans and himself a glass of Duarga, the cool red wine staining the glass. He leaned back. “I thought you were happy with things the way they are?”

Frans smiled briefly and nodded.

“You know I’m happy. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. But come on, ask yourself this. Do you still expect to be chasing around the galaxy looking for deals in ten years time? Or twenty? Or five? I don’t.” Frans ran her finger lightly around the rim of her glass. “I thought you’d be ready to settle down by now.”

“We tried that before. It didn’t work.” Jan paused. “What’s brought all this on? It’s got nothing to do with what Glann said has it? Or has this been coming for a while and I’ve been too blind to see?” Jan leaned forward again and spoke softly. “Tell me. Before the first course arrives.”

Despite herself she smiled again.

“Sometimes I look at you, when you don’t think I’m looking, and I don’t see someone who’s fulfilled. I don’t think you’re truly happy.” She took his hand again and squeezed it tight. “Marry me Jan. Sooner rather than later. Let’s make a home somewhere out of the way. Raise kids. You’ve got money stashed away and I’ve always saved. We could do it.” Frans released the grip on his hand. “That is, if you want to.”

Jan glanced away, not quite catching the look on her face and raised his arm to alert the waiter.

“Starters are here.”

“Have you any idea when the speeder is due to arrive?” Glann Cipple paced up the long carpeted length of his ornate office and back toward the huge window that over-looked a dusk fallen Amagad City. The crackling voice of Cipples secretary Jezzren on the other end of the line etched out a static-filled reply.

“No sir. Her transport arrived late this afternoon and she reportedly hired a speeder, but we haven’t heard from her since.”

Glann sat in his leather chair and rapped the desk in irritation. She was supposed to check in by comm. He severed the connection and opened another line.

“Melm, can you come to my office immediately. I have a job for you.” There was no reply, but Glann knew it had been received. It was the way of the Shadow Warriors to be coldly efficient. Why waste time answering a hail when you could be halfway there to answer it personally? Cipple leaned back in his chair and awaited his employee, the seat facing the expansive view of his city. Behind him the large ornate doors swung open and closed too.

“Have a seat Melm. We appear to have a problem. The operative due to arrive today has shown a deplorable lack of courtesy and disappeared from the speeder she was arriving in. Now she can’t be briefed and prepared for the mission. I need you to track her down and either teach her the error of her amateurish ways or confirm her disappearance and report back to me. Is that clear?”

“Perfectly.”

Glann frowned and spun around in his seat, where facing him was not Melm at all but a striking human female in black combat gear and a soggy cap. On the other side of the room a door opened and in came Melm who looked at the woman and Cipple with an equal amount of surprise and awaited further instruction.

Glann smiled.

“I was just saying that my new operative will work out perfectly. Isn’t that right Miss….?”

“Saffra. Terrie Saffra.”

“You sure do know how to show a girl a good time Mister Lomona,” Giggled Frans as the two smugglers exited the Restaurant and waited on the curb for their speeder to swing round the corner and pull up in front of them.

Jan couldn’t help but smile as his lover clambered into the speeder; she was as giddy as a first year cadet. As a rule, A-desandians couldn’t get drunk, normal alcohol’s had little or no effect, but when Jan had ordered Brevnian Luugo eggs the look on Frans’ face was priceless. It was one of the few foods or drinks that could intoxicate an A-desandian, and when Frans asked if it was a good idea given the importance of the mission they were about to embark upon Jan just smiled and ordered an extra portion. Besides, if it took Frans’ mind off discussions about marriage it was worth a hangover in the morning.

It had stopped raining ten minutes earlier and a fresh breeze was blowing in from the sea. Jan decided to stop the speeder about a mile from the starport and take Frans for a midnight stroll along the seafront.

“Warm enough?” Jan asked, taking his jacket off and wrapping it around Frans’ bare shoulders. She smiled warmly and nodded. Ocean birds were calling far out in the Bay of Amagad, some perched on the wreckage of a crashed starship that had been up-ended in the bay for as long as anyone could remember

“What do you know about this mission Jan?” Frans asked, coming to a stop near the steps leading down to the seafront. “I know you trust Glann and his operation but this job sounds like a real problem. That close to the Core Worlds? How long will it take to get there?”

Jan took her by the shoulders.

“It’ll take a few weeks to plot a sensible course, one that won’t arouse suspicion. And I’m not carrying cargo. It’ll be fine, just you and me. I’ll persuade Glann to forget about a chaperone. I think I can figure out what to do by now.” He smiled down at her. “You worry too much.”

“Only because you don’t worry enough.” She took a deep breath and looked up into his ocean blue eyes. “I’m nagging, aren’t I?”

Lomona took her arm and began to walk along the sand.

“Your kind of nagging I can take.”

By the time early morning rolled around the sun had finally broke through the clouds and the dew glistened like crystal rain. Jan rose early to do a systems check on the Sunrise and left Frans lying in bed nursing a hangover, hidden deep within the sheets and swearing never to eat alcoholic eggs ever again.

“Hey Aurran old buddy, mind handing me that hydro-spanner?”

Lomonas old droid obliged Jan by loudly shunting across the engine room area and placing the tool right into Jans waiting hand. Jan cursed the mechanics at Sienar Systems, whoever they were. Why couldn’t some bright genius have invented an industry standard for these kind of systems? One day, he thought, this universe is suddenly going to become peaceful and orderly and when it does it’ll be a better day for smugglers and a bad day for spare parts replacement companies. With a final twist of the spanner the nut was tightened and Jan ducked back out of the cubbyhole that housed the system. He blew out a long breath.

“That is gonna need replacing when we get back. Better call Brackli and Ranjid down at Star-Spares and order them. Tell them not to hurry, we could be out of town for a while.”

“Very good Master Jan. I’ll see to it straight away.” Aurran clanked down to the door and up towards the communications station, making sure his servomotors wheezed just that little bit louder when he passed Frans grumbling in the sleeping quarters. She was now up and awake, sitting on the edge of the bed with her head buried in her hands. Why is it, she thought, that a good time has to be bought off with an equally lousy time? Her night with Jan was just about worth this. Standing up and making her way to the door she stumbled across the hallway and into the head area just as Jan was coming back up towards the cockpit. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Hey gorgeous! You’re looking especially beautiful today, if I might say so. What’s the secret to your everlasting looks?”

Frans threw him the most venomous glare she could muster without making her head hurt even more and silently shut the door behind her. Catching a glance at herself in the mirror even she had to grin. What a difference one night could make. Ten hours ago I looked like the belle of the ball. Today I look like the leftover scraps.

“Got the time there Aurran?” Asked Jan as he swung round the pilot’s seat to face the communications board. His droid checked the dash chronometer and dusted it as he did so.

“06.37 hours, sir. I suggest that I start preparing breakfast before your 08.00 meeting with Mister Cipple.”

Jan nodded without looking up from the comm panel.

“Get right to it buddy. And make sure you cook Frans the greasiest Bantha rashers you can find, it’ll help her forget about the hangover.”

“Doubtless it will sir.” Aurran exited the cockpit. As he left Jan hit the controls to lock the door and began punching numbers into the comm board. He knew he’d have to wait a while for a connection to put him through so he leaned back in his seat and grabbed a handful of crunchy Cockons, a snack food he’d been introduced to by a fellow criminal by the name of Latti Tellex. Now there was a guy who had a knack for getting himself into extreme situations. Lomona had many partners during his years in the smuggling trade, some good and some bad. But he didn’t think he’d ever find another partner as crazy and carefree as Latti. For someone so small he sure could get into a lot of trouble. Like the only time Jan ever actually made it as far into the Core Worlds as Coruscant. There had been this operative working for Jabba by the name of Lysaar Shenn, a beautiful Twi’lek girl and she was to be our liaison while on Imperial Centre. Anyway, Latti didn’t like the tone the Imperial Portmaster used when I was docking the Crusader, so…

His nostalgia trip was interrupted by the plaintive beeping of his comm panel telling him his call had been received. Alert once again he sat upright in his seat and flicked the toggle.

“This is Captain Jan Lomona speaking, security ident code TLS732Alpha.” Formalities over, Jan relaxed. “Jezzren, I need to speak to Glann. It’s about the trade mission.”

Glann Cipples secretary paused for a moment before answering.

“Mister Cipple’s got a few free minutes before his next appointment. I’m patching you through right now. Good luck Jan.”

“Thanks pal. I’m gonna need it.”

Static filled the airwaves for a moment before Glann’s voice cut through the ether.

“Lomona, good. I need to speak with you to clear some things up. I’ve cancelled my next appointment. Come to the Fortress now.”

Before Jan could answer Cipple had severed the connection. Jan shook his head. Being brusque and abrupt was Glann’s stock-in-trade. He did it so well.

“Frans honey, could you come up to the cockpit for a moment?” He spoke into the inter-ship comm. Flicking the door release he stood in the doorway and waited for her to appear, which she did from out of the head.

“Still not feeling well?” He asked, this time without humour but with more than a little concern. She really didn’t look too good.

“I feel like I’ve eaten something that’s holding a grudge. I’m going to lie down for a while.” She dragged herself back into their quarters as Jan followed.

“Look, I’ve got to go and see Glann now. It shouldn’t take long.” He helped her into bed and threw the sheets over her. “Aurran will look after you until I get back. Neither of you answer the door to anyone, I’ll be as quick as I can.”

Frans smiled weakly and rolled over to snuggle up in the blankets. Jan stroked her hair softly and left the ship.

This was all completely new to her. Fourteen years of being a troublemaker had never got her into a situation as precarious as this. She looked to her left and could see her escape route, but the two humans and the Weequay blocked it. To her right ran the busy street, crowded with early morning commuters making their way to work, but none paid any attention. In a city like Amagad you learned quickly that it was wise to turn a blind eye, a deaf ear and a cold heart to any problem that wasn’t your own. Behind her was the four-meter high wall that had so inconveniently appeared out of thin air, or so it seemed, to block off her escape. So now Paige Retgarr, teenage runaway, was about to receive another lesson in inter-galactic welcoming committees.

“Just give us the bag and we’ll let you leave in one piece.” The lead human said as he moved towards the girl. Paige shrank back against the unforgiving wall, looking left and right again. She was an excellent runner. If she could make it through the gap then she could make a break for the inner city. These goons wouldn’t stand a chance.

“Quit stalling, there’s nowhere to go. Give us the bag and we’ll let you leave.”

Paige looked at him with a tilt of her head and then stood tall with a defiant look on her face. Hell she thought, even if I don’t feel brave I’m gonna make these scumbags think I am.

“You want the bag handsome, come and get it!” She shouted the last word and then without warning kicked back off the wall with her elbows up and caught the man square on the jaw. With a surprised groan, though not as surprised as Paige, he hit the street and didn’t move. As one the two remaining thieves prepared to attack.... and then ran to their colleague in crime, picked him up and dragged him away into the shadows.

“What a bunch of creeps,” laughed Paige as she retrieved her bag from the filthy floor. “Couldn’t cope with one lone girl.” She dusted herself down. “I’d better get busy and find the ship.”

With a renewed spring in her step she exited the alleyway and rejoined the busy crowds on the street. She never noticed the strange woman in black combats and black cap who’d stood in the shadows behind her with a blaster pointing at the thieves, nor did she notice her leave the shadows and retrieve the photo Paige dropped in the middle of the fray

“It’s not a case of what you want Captain Lomona, it’s a case of what you’re going to get.” Glann stepped back from Jan who’s his fingers had balled up into a fist. He turned away to face the early morning view out of his panoramic window and look down upon Amagad City, now filling up with life and commerce. Glann looked back over his shoulder at Lomona, who fumed quietly to himself. Jan rushed here as fast as he could, but the steady flow of speeder traffic and pedestrians had slowed him down. And the precautionary weapons search at the check in desk to Glann’s Fortress had taken longer than usual. Even when he finally managed to get into the turbo-lift and request the 9^th floor he’d had a moment of panic as the elevator halted on the 4^th floor - the Shadow Warriors block. Two black- clad warriors, one a young human female and a bulky male Wookie had entered the lift, frisked him down and left in silence. Jan knew better than to argue, or to even pull a face. By the time he finally reached the office his boss was agitated to say the least.

“Do you have any idea how many of those little dots down there owe their livelihoods to me? How much of a community this entire operation has bred?” He turned to face Jan again. “If I’d been told after the end of the Clone Wars that twenty years later I’d have my own city to run I’d simply not have believed it. But there it is.” He swept his arm out towards the window. “It isn’t much, but it’s mine.” Glann Cipple let the words hang in the air as he sat behind his desk and took a deep breath.

“I understand what you’re saying. I know how tight it is out there at the moment, we all do. But dammit, don’t lumber me with a damn chaperone! I know this job better than anyone. This, this makes me look like some upstart kid who doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing.” Jan swung the chair near him around and sat down. “If you don’t trust me, send someone else.”

Glann frowned and shook his head. Reaching under the table he pulled out a bottle of Geenau Whiskey and unplugged the top. Pouring himself and Jan a shot he raised his glass.

“A toast. To the upstart kid who worries too much.”

Jan half smiled and slugged the shot down in one. He savoured the flavour and eased back in the seat.

“It’s funny. Just last night Frans said I don’t worry enough.”

“Maybe you just worry about the wrong things.”

Jan looked at his feet, then back at Glann.

“You’re going to insist I take this lying down aren’t you?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.”

“The Sunrise isn’t leaving unless your man is on board?”

This time it was Glann’s turn to look away, an action which Jan noticed immediately. “Glann….” Jan said slowly. “What’s the deal here? Who the stang are you sending out there with me?” Jan reached over the table and grabbed the bottle for another shot.

“Don’t have too much of that Captain. You’re flying in a few hours.”

“Don’t change the subject. You know I don’t get drunk. Who’s the extra load?”

Glann swilled the whiskey around its glass for a few moments before finishing the shot and topping it up again. A wry smile crossed his ageing features, pulled tighter by the scraped back hair he wore in a fist-tight tail. It was a sight rarely seen.

“I wouldn’t describe myself as a gambling man Captain. I view it as a vice of the weak and the easily influenced. But when you come down to it, I’m the biggest gambler in the sector.” From Jan’s confused face he could see he’d momentarily lost him. “Our line of business. It’s a gamble from the second we spot a deal to the moment we shake on it. Imperials, rivals, double-crosses. It’s a faithless, loveless, godless existence. Yet here we are, drinking whiskey in the morning about to make the largest gamble of our careers. You’re gambling your reputation, and I’m gambling on you. Is it a safe bet Jan?”

Lomona grinned widely.

“As safe as it’s ever been. Gista notwithstanding.”

Glann nodded, seemingly satisfied and put away the bottle. Jan raised his eyebrows in expectation.

“Ahh, of course. Your chaperone”.

Cipple pressed a button on his desk and a side door opened, revealing a long dark tunnel. Pitch-blackness. Jan squinted hard to see what was in there, but all he could make out was the pleasing silhouette of a female wearing black. Nothing but black. What was this? Maybe he’d found a drink that really did affect him after all.

“Come in Terrie. Have a seat.” He motioned towards Jan. “This is the pilot for the mission. Terrie Saffra, I’d like you to meet Captain Jan Lomona.”

Terrie walked right over to Jan and offered her gloved hand.

“Captain. I’ve heard so much about you. It’s a thrill to finally meet you.”

Was that a huge wedge of sarcasm Jan detected in her voice? His ego hoped not. Jan stood to shake her hand. She had a firm and assured grip.

“I’m sure the pleasure’s all mine. So Glann,” Lomona turned his attention back to his employer who was smiling that enigmatic smile again. “Are you going to tell Frans about this or am I?”

She reached the starport in good time, and after a brief search around the entry area located the hangar of the vehicle she was looking for. Satisfied that she’d found it she trotted across the roadway to grab a drink from the local tapcafe.

The first thing that struck her when she entered the room was the overwhelming smell of something that certainly wasn’t legal, and probably wasn’t healthy. Wafting her hand in front of her face to clear some breathing space she continued into the room and gingerly moved up to the bar. It wasn’t her first time in a tavern; her mother had spent her life working in them. Leaning over the counter she caught the attention of the droid bartender.

“Can I have a Brell Juice, and go easy on the Moogas.”

The droid paused as it looked at her, seemingly checking her out.

“Do you have a valid ID? To prove your age? It is required procedure when serving minors.”

She threw the droid her most insulted and irritated look.

“Do you have some kind of programming fault?”

It paused, turning its head towards her.

“My systems are running in good order Miss. I ask you again, do you have an I.D?” She frowned and reached into her holdall, pulling from within it a plasti-coated fake ident-card. Another skill she’d learnt from Mom.

“Here. Good enough?”

The droid looked between her and the ident card a number of times before it returned the card to her. Smiling, she slipped it back into her bag, tossed it the credits and took the drink which was quickly served to her. Taking it she turned and found an empty table. She sipped at the heady drink and picked the succulent Moogas from the top. It wasn’t long before she noticed some admiring glances from some of the seedier patrons of the bar. For such a young girl she was mature and tall, well over two meters. Her mousy brown hair was long but she wore it high, tied up in a bunch. An obvious target for the unscrupulous denizens of the city. Finishing the potent beverage with a long chug she collected her belongings and left the bar. She stood outside and caught a breath of relatively fresh air before making her way back towards the starport, and within a few moments Paige Retgarr was inside.

“Well so much for you putting your foot down! You are so easily led.”

Jan could tell. Frans wasn’t very impressed.

“What happened to the hangover you had earlier?”

She threw the covers back onto the bed without bothering to tidy them and stomped around the room.

“You’ve given me a bigger headache.”

“Oh forget this,” Growled Jan, spinning around and exiting the cabin. “There’s no reasoning with you when you’re in this kind of mood.” He shut the door of the cockpit behind him and grabbed the jet-juice.

Frans came blasting into the room moments later with a pillow still in her hand.

“That’s right, grab the bottle and shut the door behind you. As usual!” Frans spun his seat around so he was facing her but he refused to look up. “So,” She began her tone a touch less adversarial, “who is this guy we’ve got to entertain for two months then?”

Jan took another swig from his flask and shoved it back under the dash before he stood up and embraced Frans.

“You’ll see in a few minutes. Now warm up the batteries and let’s get ready for take-off.”

Before she even had the option to protest Jan left the cockpit and strode down past the entry hatch. As he walked by the door chime rang. Great timing Jan thought and then thought again as he checked the ramp monitor. It wasn’t Terrie Saffra at all. It was Carlonian Feese. This was unexpected to say the least. In all the years Jan and Feese had crossed paths on various jobs for Glann Cipple Feese had probably been on the Sunrise six times. Twice in a day? That was unprecedented. Lomona scratched his head and lowered the ramp.

“Come on up Feese,” Jan called as he turned off the Electri-grid security system, “I haven’t got long before we go.”

Feese nodded and followed Jan into the lounge area.

“Glann told me to come and give you something before you left.”

Jan had to smile. He knew how much Feese disliked him and his attitude to life. To have to come down here, like an errand boy for Glann must have really stuck in his craw. “He said to enjoy this while you travelled,” Feese handed over the bottle of Geenau Whiskey Jan and Cipple had shared earlier. “And he said give this to D’Staan when you conclude your meeting.”

Jan was given a non-descript parcel.

“I won’t ask what’s in here.” Jan said openly.

“Don’t bother. I don’t know.” Feese turned to exit. As he reached the edge of the ramp he half-turned his head and muttered. “Clear Skies Lomona” before he stepped out of the Sunrise.

Jan was so surprised he genuinely didn’t know what to say.

It was imperative; capture was not an option. Too much depended on it. In this half-lit side room the intruder’s actions were steady and sure, the information lifted of a vital and essential nature. Nobody crossed Glann Cipple and lived to tell the tale. Not until today. Pocketing the disk and securing it the intruder dimmed the light and exited the room.

“Yes, I’m absolutely sure it was bay 9, I’ve checked the board twice. Now get the hell out of the way!” Paige was beginning to lose patience with the officious Portmaster who was blocking her entry to the hangar bays. What does a girl have to do to make herself understood? Yet it was becoming increasingly clear to her that the Nicto Portmaster wouldn’t relent.

“I’m going to ask you to leave one more time,” He said evenly, “and then I’m calling the law.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Came a smooth voice from behind them, “I’ll see to the young lady.”

Paige and the Portmaster turned together to face Terrie Saffra who was walking towards them on her way into the docking bays. Miffed, the Nicto raised his chin to Terrie.

“And who might I ask are you?” He spat with obvious disdain. Without answering Terrie handed him a security card, which upon reading turned the Nicto a darker shade of green. Backing off he allowed both the women to pass. Paige swung her bag over her shoulder and grinned at Terrie.

“Wow lady, that was really something. Thanks for the assist. I’d have gotten in somehow - ”

“ - of course you would.” Smiled Terrie.

“ - but this should save me a lot of time. Who are you here to see?”

Terrie looked across and up at her young companion.

“Inquisitive, aren’t you.”

Paige grinned.

“Gets me all the answers I need. What bay are you after?”

“Nine.” Terrie answered shortly.

Paige grinned even wider.

“Really? Wow, that’s the bay I’m looking for. Who are you going to see?”

Terrie shook her head this time.

“I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you. And after saving your butt for the second time today I’d really call that a waste of effort.”

Paige turned to glance down at Terrie with a confused look on her face but before she could ask, Terrie said, “Here we go.” The two ladies entered the bay and Paige hung back for a second to admire the sleek curves of the Berone Sunrise.

“I’ve always wanted to see one of these up close. A Desando Dynamics Stock Heavy Freighter. And it’s not that old. He must be loaded.”

At this Terrie turned with a curious look on her face.

“Who must be loaded?” It was Paige’s turn to shake her head.

“I could tell you, but I’d have to -”

“ - kill me?” Terrie slapped the door alarm. “After all we’ve been through?”

Both of them were laughing as the ramp dropped down with a whoosh of air, revealing Jan standing at the top. He didn’t exactly look thrilled to see them.

“I thought Glann said only one passenger! Who the hell is this?”

Paige stepped forward slowly, not taking her eyes of Jan.

“Jan? Jan Lomona?” She said it falteringly, as if uncertain she was saying it right.

“That’s right kid. Who the hell are you?”

She moved even closer to him up the ramp and broke into a smile.

“I’m Paige Retgarr. Your daughter.”