Morning came in slowly, while Vila was sprawled out on top of me, her lekku wrapped around my neck and chest like a warm scarf. I just lay there for a minute, staring at the ceiling, replaying the dream in my mind, gently stroking and caressing her back. I couldn't shake the feeling that vision gave me, but I also didn't want to spook her, so I didn't move until she made a sound, telling me she was up and mumbled into my collarbone.
"Stop thinking so loud… I can feel it…"
"Sorry," I whispered, kissing the top of her head. "My brain has been stuck in a loop."
"Yeah..." She stretched, squeezing me with all four limbs as if she were trying to crack my spine, then finally rolled off me and sat up, yawning. "Then we fix it," she said simply. "Step one: find Jalo and Iowi. Step two: punch the source of your new dreams. Step three: win."
"Very solid planning there," I muttered, but I smiled anyway.
"I know." She glanced at me with one eye. "Tell me I'm wrong, though!"
"No, you are not," I nodded, also sitting up, "We'll check their ship today, so maybe they left something we can track down."
"Then let's move," she said, slapping my chest once before jumping up from the bed, full of energy. "We got Lando's passkey, we should be good to go! By the time we finish, Master should also arrive, so we can have a report ready."
Yeah. Fair point... Deciding that we hadn't got anything else, we cleaned up, grabbed a quick breakfast that was delivered by one of Lando's droids, right before we met him in his office.
"That's the berth their ship is docked in," he said, tapping the screen. "Make sure that when you enter, you will be on full alert. I have a hunch that whoever put their ship there has some kind of monitoring device watching it. The moment you enter, you will spook them."
"We are out of any other options," Vila answered, studying the images, "They did not show up at the auction, so... We have no other choice but to be more direct."
"As I said yesterday, I've pre-greased the wheels." He nodded at the passkey. "Those are top-of-the-line passes, even if the ship is locked down... if you get my meaning. Still, most of the hangar overseers are the persistent type; he'll sniff at you anyway, trying to rip you off. If you can't talk him down, feel free to… you know…" He vaguely waved a hand against our faces, "Jedi it."
"Already did it once, so yeah," I chuckled, "Don't worry, we won't spend more of your money."
"I would appreciate that." He leaned back in his chair, smiling at me.
"Still no word from Kyle?" Vila asked, glancing instinctively toward the holotable before Lando.
"He checked in," he answered, "He's soon to be here, arriving in-system in the next few hours, but he will be dropping in through the wrong side of traffic control, which is tricky when you don't want anyone to notice a Jedi Master just arrived. But, I am working on masking his trail, so we should be good."
"Then we will get to work," I said, mostly to myself. "It is time to see what Iowi and Jalo were flying into..."
[Statement: Clarification unnecessary. They were flying into something stupid and dangerous, as most meatbags do.] HK stepped up beside us, hands folded behind his back. [Addendum: Evidence suggests this is extra true for Jedi.]
"Keep it up, and I'll have Lando reprogram you as a greeter droid," Vila muttered, rolling her eyes.
[Immediate Protest: That is psychological torture and a war crime.]
"And you are against those?" I laughed, nodding at Lando as we began to leave his suit. "Since when?"
...
....
.....
The casino towers and luxury spires vanished behind us as we arrived, and the air got dirtier the farther out we flew in a nondescript, automated taxi. By the time we angled down toward the sector where their ship was docked, the sky was cut up by cranes, fueling pylons, and kilometer-long vent stacks constantly releasing steam into the air.
Our hired speeder slid into a wide approach lane between rows of industrial domes, flying past their walls, around giant bay doors, and maintenance hatches where droids crawled over the hulls of parked ships, doing maintenance, welding, patching, stripping, and repainting, depending on the situation.
"This," Vila said, peering out the window, "I wonder how many unclaimed ships are in here... Getting stripped."
"Probably a lot," I replied with a sigh, "Good thing theirs were prepaid, or maybe we wouldn't even have a ship because the locals would have taken it apart by now... Maybe they are long-lost relatives of the Jawas."
[Observation: Economies require multiple sources to support their output. Cantonica is simply honest about reusing what others lost.]
I was about to say something when the landing guidance pinged us, and a monotone, bored voice crackled over the comm.
"Taxi skimmer, transmit authorization for sector C-17, bay forty-two."
"We have it," I answered, sending the packet Lando had given us, and a moment later, a grudging-sounding answer came back, "...Cleared. Pad three, on the approach vector I am transmitting now. And don't scrape anything expensive."
"It's a taxi..." Vila grunted, "It is pre-programmed, it should not..."
And luckily, it did not. As we were making our landing, at least we finally had a chance to take a look at Iowi and Jalo's ship, which they were using to fly around the galaxy. It was unlike ours, a Kappa-5 courier freighter now sitting abandoned, its bulky frame powered down for a long time. Watching it, it had twin cargo pods that were hanging from its sides, boxy and reinforced, with scorched patches near their thrusters. The main body had a blunt nose, a cockpit viewport like a narrowed visor, and a broad rear ramp currently sealed shut.
"That's a lot of space to carry stuff around," I said quietly.
"Do you think it was filled with Sith artifacts?" Vila tilted her head, asking,
"Who knows? They were tracking items to this place, but that does not mean," I said, thinking about it, "That they didn't bring some with them."
After we touched down, we disembarked, watching a few mechanics and deckhands walking about, doing their thing. I couldn't feel anything strange about them; apparently, they were actually doing their job... Because this landing spot was prepaid, they were handling general stuff, making sure the ship wasn't broken into or dismantled. None of them paid us much attention until a man in a grubby-but-official-looking coat came hurrying over, datapad in hand. Here we go again...
"This bay is restricted." He didn't bother with greetings at all, "Today is inspection day! You'll have to book another..." his eyes flicked over our clothes and overall vibe, "...date. You're the 'authorized representatives' for ship Kappa Unit Three-Six-Four?"
"Yes," I said before he could twist it or anything, "That's us."
"Really?" His expression changed in precisely the way I expected: an opportunity to make some side money. But he didn't recognize us, which also meant that when the ship docked, he was either not here or had never met Jalo and Iowi.
"Right," he said slowly. "Right, well… there are some outstanding fees, I'm afraid, that have been added since your ship has been hogging this space for itself longer than usual. Docking retention levy, security surcharge, hazard-residue..."
"How much?" Vila cut in, not bothering to hide her annoyance.
"Hm," He tapped quickly on his pad with the smugness of someone who was clearly feeling himself on top of the world, "Let's see… all those extra days multiplied by the outdated insurance... Ah, yes. Comes to… one thousand eight hundred credits. Plus, there is an administrative convenience fee for late processing. Call it twenty-five hundred."
"That's more than a new set of sublight thrusters," Vila snapped, but kept her voice level as best as she could.
"Regulations," he said smoothly. "I don't write them, I just enforce them."
"Sure," I looked at him as I reached out with the Force and tapped into his mind. He was thinking about a fat bonus, then about a supervisor he hated, wanting to use the money to make him feel inferior... "You've already been paid," I said calmly, lifting my hand just slightly.
"Mh?" He blinked his eyes, "I… what?"
"You processed the fees last rotation, and your superiors complimented your efficiency. It's all squared away, and there are no discrepancies." I nudged the thought into his mind, "You even managed to gloat about it to that idiot supervisor you have."
"Hah!" His irritation very quickly turned into self-satisfaction when I suggested it to him, "I… yes. Yes, that's right. I already… handled this account." His shoulders relaxed. "All clear. Fine. You can access the ship! Just don't break anything, or if you do... Prepare your wallets!"
"Of course," I said. "You run a tight operation here. We will be careful."
He puffed up at the compliment, nodded sharply, and walked away with the gait of someone who had just given himself a bonus in his head. A fat, big bonus...
"You're getting really good at that," Vila muttered, chuckling to herself.
"It comes to me more easily than ever, too," I agreed, "Also, I'm not paying twenty-five hundred credits to a man whose thoughts are all about self-centered nonsense."
[Approve-sounding Statement: Manipulating the weak-minded is vastly cheaper than bribery. Tactical commendation: You are finally acting as a proper Master of this unit, Meatbag Kael.]
"Thank you," I said dryly, "But before you start leaking oil from your sensors, let's move. As Lando said... we probably already alerted the other side."
Walking around it, the freighter's exterior was clean. Only a minimal dust buildup, no random oil spills, no signs of an emergency lockdown or someone trying to force their entry... the local teams at least worked well, keeping it in shape. Stepping up to it, the ramp controls were live, and when I keyed in the apparently crack-worthy access code Lando had acquired, the rear ramp paused for a moment, processing it... Then it hissed, unlocked, and lowered with a loud clank, the ship's interior sending a faint gust of old air straight into our faces.
"Nobody came here for a time now..." Vila muttered as we walked up into the ship. The lights came on in a smooth, automatic sequence as we did so, without any flickering, telling us that the inside was also in tip-top shape. "Creepy," She murmured, looking around, scanning everything with the Force, just as I was doing it.
"Yeah," I agreed, "Feels like they just stepped out for snacks..."
Of course, we started with the basics, going to the aft cargo bay first. Crates were strapped down in neat rows; none were overturned, and no clamps were missing. Checking them, most of them were empty, but some still had items stored within, and most of those looked ancient. Probably more Sith artifacts, although they didn't have any Dark Side feeling stuck to them.
"I don't like this," I said.
"You'd prefer blaster scorch marks?" Vila asked, closing one of the containers that held a ruined chestplate.
"At least those would mean they fought someone..." I nodded.
After finishing the checks, we moved through the main corridor, where we found a few open lockers with robes and spare clothes, folded and stored. There was also a half-disassembled sensor module laid out on a workbench in a side alcove with tools arranged in a pattern I recognized.
"Jalo started working on this," I said, touching one of the tools. "He always leaves the multimeter upside-down... When I once asked him why, he said it reminds him not to trust the first readings."
However... No matter how long we looked, there were no signs of struggle, nothing, they were just... not here. In the end, we finally reached the cockpit. It was simple, two chairs, pilot and co-pilot. There was a third fold-down seat against the back bulkhead, but, once again, nothing indicated any struggle. While I was trying to get a feel, HK stepped forward without prompting and jacked a slender data-spike from his forearm into an access port.
[Statement: Beginning systems interrogation.]
"Let's see where you went," I murmured, resting my hand on the back of the pilot's chair, waiting for him to do his thing.
[Diagnosis: This is unacceptable.] HK's tone shifted from dry to something almost offended.
"What is it?" Vila asked.
[Analysis: Main OS has been reset and reinstalled. Navigation logs: erased. Hyperdrive coordinates... are also wiped. Communication buffer: blanked. Authentication keys... Searching... All removed. Even the Jedi Order's encrypted handshake routines are gone.]
"Gone?" I frowned. "Completely?"
[Confirmation: Yes. There is nothing here older than sixty standard days. This ship is like a newborn, with an elderly hull and no memories.]
"But..." Vila folded her arms, looking at us, "Can anyone even do that? The Order's codes are buried so deep you need half a Temple's access to do a full erase."
"Not from the outside," I said, furrowing my brows, "Someone with internal access and enough skill could do it..."
I stopped explaining, though, because something else brushed against my senses. And it did not come from the ship's systems, or from outside... The source was inside the ship...
"Kael?" Vila asked, already sliding her sabers into her hand, looking around, while HK drew two pistols as preparation, noticing the change in my expression.
"We are not alone," I whispered, focusing on the feeling, which was cold, but eerily focused, like a machine... dosed in a thin line of Dark Side presence. Similar to HK's situation...
[Alert: Unidentified presence on this vessel. It was not there upon entry. Or it was dormant.]
We turned at once, following the disturbance back down the corridor, past the galley, past the small bunkroom, toward the forward cargo hold on the port side... It had the door left half-open, and the feeling came from beyond it. Pushing it open, the port cargo hold was smaller than the aft bay, more of a secondary storage room. A few crates were stacked against the walls, just as secured, nothing remarkable, until my eyes dropped to the deck.
"Footprints."
They were barely visible where dust had settled, but still there as they were thinner than the rest of the dust layer. Following it, they led from the far wall straight toward us and stopped, right in front of where Vila and I were standing... It probably was what opened the door, but then returned to its position, probably noticing that we were coming.
"That's not unsettling at all," Vila muttered.
"Stay behind me," I said out of habit.
She didn't, of course, as she stepped up beside me. As for the owner of the footsteps, they realized they couldn't stay hidden, so they moved and stepped out from the darkness with a clanking noise. To my surprise... It was a droid, but not like HK. It was taller than me by a head, lean and angular-shaped, with a frame made of matte, dark metal that absorbed more light than it reflected. Its plating was segmented, armor-like, with ribs of exposed conduit glowing faintly red along its left side, where it had missed some of its plating. Its head was a flattened helm shape with a single central photoreceptor that burned brightly as it decided to drop any idea about hiding, coming fully online. What was really disturbing was the very, very strong Dark Side stench sticking to it... It came from the faded glyphs, etched into its frame as they lined its shoulder plates and bracers... Sith markings, no doubt about that.
This thing was old. Super old, maybe older than HK.
[Disturbed Statement: That… is not... good.]
The droid's photoreceptor narrowed, as if noticing HK's presence and evaluating it, its cracked voice coming online from a damaged, distorted voice modulator.
"Designation: DR-0N. Status: active. Directive: Revenge."
"Damn," Vila exhaled, "Great... It speaks basic."
"Yes," I said, my thumb brushing my emitter switch, "and it needs a good mechanic."
[Clarification: That is not—]
"Not the time, HK." I stepped forward, my blade hissing to life, trying to examine the droid more in the light of my saber, knowing we would need this thing as intact as possible, to find more clues about what had happened to Jalo and Iowi. When I activated my saber, the Dark Side around the droid sharpened as if it reacted to my presence. Then, the machine tilted its head a fraction, and its gaze locked fully on HK.
"Secondary directive: recover unknown asset," it said as its arm twitched so fast I almost missed it, but that was enough for me, and I lunged at it.
My blade cut a clean arc toward its shoulder, which should have been a perfect line aimed to sever an arm and disable its weapon systems, assuming it had any. But that old bastard... It shouldn't have been able to move that fast, yet it did. The droid's entire body slid sideways, my saber passing within a hair of its plating, then it pivoted with inhuman precision, its metal feet screeching as it dragged it over the metal floor. I watched, in slow motion, as its right forearm split along a hidden seam and then, with an angry, Dark Side-fueled rage, a crimson lightsaber erupted from within, extending out from its wrist like a singular claw.
"Um. Kael?" Vila asked, her sabers glowing orange, watching as we now faced a lightsaber-wielding droid.
"Yes?" I asked, standing in a defensive posture.
"Why are we always drawn into such bullshit events? Since when does a droid use lightsabers?"
"Probably since now," I answered, and HK, from behind us, sounded personally offended.
[Indignant Clarification: We could use lightsabers, but they are simply inefficient tools.]
"Initiating the main directive," the Sith droid cut in, its voice even more distorted now. "Eliminate the Jedi."
"Make sure," I spoke, right before the droid switched its stance into something I recognized as Form V... "To keep it as intact as possible. We need to look into its core..."