Hyperlane Drift

Hyperlane Drift: Part 2

The Scrapper Guild's operation on The Clump is massive, and, consequently, so is its population. Most sectors of the station are active at all times, as thousands of workers crowd the narrow passageways in wave after wave of shift changes. Add to that other thousands of travellers making pit stops and the clients of the black market.

That's not to say it's impossible to find privacy in The Clump as well, although at a price. The engine, where Grova and her party were headed to, for instance, was a former Devaronian ship, a place of scorching heat, pungent sulfur odor and almost entirely built of toxic materials. Therefore, it saw very little movement, except for specialized droids and very occasional maintenance crews.

"We shouldn't be out at this time, Yuli! What if the militia spots us?", Grova asked her friend as the group entered the beaten-down bridge of a starcruiser whose windshield was now a wide window to one of the foundries far below.

"Don't worry. We've been doing this for a while and learned a few tricks along the way. Did you know that two thirds of the militia is composed of Dowutins? That's basically all the grunts", Yuli answered, with a sly smile.

"No, I didn't", Grova replied.

"Well, it is. And every two weeks they are all on the same watch. Smugglers around The Clump call it a 'summer day', because Dowutins can't stand high temperatures", Yuli continued.

"I see... So the engine and other places like that fall off the radar", the engineer concluded, finally realizing why the group was taking a longer route to the engine, specifically going through the foundry hub.

"Exactly! Today is a 'summer day'. Very convenient, right? I don't believe it's a coincidence. Someone pulled strings to make this happen, and we can use it in our advantage",  Yuli added, triumphantly.

Grova nodded in agreement, but was still feeling completely lost in this whole affair. Advantage against who or what? The party of workers was now traversing the ominous corridor of a imperial destroyer, detached and replaced inbetween larger chambers in the station. The bright white lights reflected on the plastic walls dotted of red eyes always caused goosebumps to Grova. 

"Yuli, please, just tell me what's going on. Were we... brainwashed? Are our minds being controlled in some way?", Grova begged.

"Something like that".

"That's it? Just 'something like that?'", the mechanic protested.

"I'm sorry, I don't have all the answers, Grova. But Master Alep does; I know he does. He was the one to pull us out of it, after all", Yuli said.

"When did he first spoke to you?", Grova inquired.

"It's been six months now", Yuli answered.

"And he still haven't told you what's going on?"

"Oh, Grova, don't you know know how Jedi Masters speak? It's all riddles and allegories".

"Jedi Masters can't speak about anything because they don't exist", Grova sentenced.

"I understand where you're coming from. Don't worry, you'll see for yourself. For now, just tell me: have you always lived aboard The Clump?", diverted Yuli, dodging a religious argument.

"Of course! You know I did, and so did you", Grova answered, confused.

"Right. So... where are your parents?", Yuli asked. Checkmate. Grova had no idea. She could somewhat remember them, but couldn't say where they were, or even if they were alive. The mechanic spent the rest of the hike to the engine coming to terms with the fact she never really thought about that.