Out of Time [Star Wars Story]

5. A Sour Confrontation

Lorash sat cross-legged on the floor of her cabin, breathing so relaxed and free that it became a hum of peace automatically. Here in her quiet world of solitude, it was easy to stay reflective and calm, like a still pool. The overhead comm pinged. It took her a moment to resurface from the depths of concentration, but she felt better than the day before. Deep cleaning, a surprisingly good bowl of soup, and sleep helped immensely. When her world was neat and orderly, it was easier to access her calm.

"Just about to bring us into the starport on Hutta. Figured I'd, uh, make sure everyone is awake in case we get hassled."

The jedi padawan felt her nerves twinge slightly at that idea, but she pushed it away. It would just be a quick stop to pick up the mechanic, so as long as she kept her head down, there was nothing to worry about. She picked up her staff and headed for the cockpit.

Seia was already there. She'd changed out her armored robes for a spare set of mercenary armor that she'd resized and adjusted to fit as well as possible. It was a little more bulky, but if the weight difference bothered her, she gave no sign. Even with a heavy blaster rifle slung over one shoulder, she didn't fit the image of a thug in Lorash's head. That same, unsettling intensity and effortless grace were still present. Their sith's cunning and power hadn't vanished with a wardrobe change.

Still, it would hopefully work enough to pass, particularly with the lightsaber concealed in a covered pistol holster at her hip.

"Have you spoken with your contact?" the sith asked, arms crossed as she settled into the gunner's seat.

Eso bobbed his head in a nod. "I told Yyrfhojarrr I, uh, had a deal for him, but I stayed away from the specifics. He's going to meet us at the spaceport cantina. They've got some, uh, back rooms where we can talk in private."

Lorash dropped into the copilot's seat just in time for the ship to angle towards landing, ignoring the bumps and buffets of entering Hutta's polluted atmosphere. The brown smudge in all directions left the jedi padawan sick to her stomach. "That looks horrible."

"It smells worse," Eso mumbled. "I usually wear a, uh, breather mask. At least when I'm outside in it."

As they made their final approach and then slowly settled down to land, Seia scanned the other ships that were visible outside their hangars, either moving in or out. She frowned. "That ship has the Empire's symbol on it."

Lorash's heart started to pound and she moved to look. The familiar, triangular shape of an Imperial troop transport with its wings raised sent a shiver of dread through her. "Why do you think they're here?"

"Probably doing business with a Hutt," Eso said as he glided their ship into its hangar and touched down with a thump. "I'd bring my, uh, bodyguards if I were them."

"We can stay out of their way," Seia said, doing a last check over her armor and gear. "That said, the sooner we meet the wookie and leave, the better. The longer we remain, the greater the chance that they will poke their nose where it does not belong."

Eso nodded and got up, locking the ship's engines with a code before leading the way out of the ship. He locked the airlock door behind them, though he made sure they each had the code, just in case. "This way."

A clipboard hit him in the chest, wielded by a red-skinned twi'lek man. "Docking fees," he said, smirking slightly. "If you can even pay them, Eso Jarr'ah. If not, I suppose flesh will have to do."

"How much?" Eso twitched slightly, more out of habit than anything else. He was much calmer than Lorash had expected..

"For refuel included? Five hundred credits."