Help from a Friend - by Vae Ardexa

“I understand,” the Bothan said, his fur rippling slightly as he pulled his cloak closer around him, warding off the chill of the ship’s frigid, recycled air. For someone who spent most of their time in space, the cold had always bothered him; a far cry from the temperate humidity of Bothawui, or even of the soothing warmth of sunlight cresting on the undulating waves of Pesmenben’s equatorial ocean. “You need me to locate the Imperial Officer and, through her, your man, Jarvis.”

Correct, Vae.” The growling reply came in Basic from a one-quarter-life-sized holopresence stood at the centre of the ship’s holotable. The figure shifted slightly. A Togorian of above average height with fur not dissimilar to his own, with silver fur slicked back in a single, unbroken mane that adorned much of his visible body, terrible fangs the size of Vae’s fist curving down from his snarling mouth, and a powerful nose imbued with olfactory senses beyond even the most heightened senses in the galaxy, Maligaant Menuk cut an impressive figure even in miniature form. “He was last seen at Deevah the Hutt’s palace on Tatooine. An unidentified Imperial female apprehended him there.”

Vae cocked an eyebrow, invisible beneath the solid layer of fur. “Deevah Tiron, of the Besadii kajidic?” Maligaant nodded. “The Hutt’s normally don’t tolerate Imperial presence, particularly in their palaces. Curious, then, that Deevah allowed the arrest to happen. She must have something to gain from it.”

“I thought as much myself. I need you to find out exactly what the Hutt gained, why, and where Jarvis and this Imperial are now, if you are willing.”

“I am. Don’t worry, my team are here with me. We’ll find Jarvis and the Imperial. I think it’s time we paid Deevah a visit.” Already turning away from the circular holotable, a contraption that occupied much of the centre of the ship, Vae gathered his cloak closer still, concealing the gleaming hilt of his lightsaber.

“Be careful, Vae.”

“I always am.”

 

“And how, exactly, do you propose we get the information we need from Deevah?” The other Bothan said, his voice snarky, almost mocking, as was his usual manner. Arms crossed, an expression of disbelief a permanent fixture on his face, brown-tinged-grey fur shifting in agitation, Devron Ozuar was far smarter than he appeared and had been Vae’s friend since the two had left Bothawui. With a talent for slicing and infiltration that almost rivalled his talent for witticism and snark, he was a valuable addition to any team. “Hutts don’t give information for free. There’s always a price. Are you so sure you can afford to pay it?”

“Of course not,” Vae said, surprising even Devron. “That’s where you come in, my friend.” Keying in several commands to the ship’s holotable, the holoprojector crackled to life, resolving into a three-dimensional blueprint. On the surface, tall, thickly-based rounded towers rose out of rocky outcroppings, while beneath the surface, a sprawling mass of labyrinthine tunnels carved their way through the rock for a half mile in each direction. Admirable as a palace, even by Hutt standards, and the owner - a minor Huttling of the Desilijic clan and Deevah’s primary rival and competitor - was known for his avarice, greed and cruelty. “I need your talent for opening locked doors and talking to stubborn computers.”

Now interested and a keen gleam of fire in his eyes, Devron bent over the holotable and studied the image closely, the harsh blue light of the holoprojection giving his face a garish hue, his intense expression almost ghoulish as he sized up his mark.

“This Hutt has quite the installation. Security doors, holocams, enforcers and wardens, even akk dogs.” He said, his eyes roving over the security features, highlighted by glowing red orbs.

“No rancor though. That’s a plus.” Vae said, smirking, recalling another time, another operation, where he and Devron had almost ended up as an entrée for one of the horrifying creatures.

“No rancor, but pretty much everything else imaginable. This Hutt guards his secrets closer than a Muun does its wealth, almost Bothan-like with his tenacity. It’ll be tough, but not impossible. I’ll need a stealth field generator and Teethree.” Devron said, referring to the ship’s on-board astromech, an antiquated T3-series unit that he had skillfully restored and brought up to date with modern pars. “What am I after, exactly? There could be anything in the computer databanks or the vault.”

“Nothing much. How familiar are you with Hutt politics?” Devron shrugged. “I’ll make it brief, then. Deevah belongs to the Besadii kajidic. For around a century now, they’ve been embroiled in a rivalry with the Desilijic clan. I plan to seek an audience with Deevah and make her an offer she can’t refuse - intel that will give her the upper hand against the Desilijics in exchange for the location of the Imperial Officer. Your job is to sneak into the Desilijic Hutt’s palace, raid the computer databanks and get the intel needed, then transmit it to me.”

“You make it sound so easy.” Devron smirked. “It’s been a while since I tried my hand at Hutt security. When do we start?”

“As soon as you’re ready. The navicomputer is already programmed for Tatooine. Give the word and we’ll make the jump immediately.” Vae replied, deactivating the holotable and leading the way into the cockpit, where Teethree greeted them with a shrill, happy whistle.

“I’m ready. Let’s get it over with.”

 (Guest Writer - Vae Ardexa)