Madlands

10. The Game-Runner

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The tarmac was slick with water and the sky a churning gloom; it must have just finished raining. Mando was leaning against the edge of the port side gate, the ramp already extended, while Grey checked that her satchel had everything and only what she needed. The port was active, with ships and their crews bustling about, but the landing bays were decently spaced and the docking fees not too steep.

Not a bad choice.

She came up beside him to look over the scene.

It's mostly known only to residents, so they can't gouge for rates and it tends to have less excitement than the spaceports filled with traders and crew-scouters. Not a bad location, either—right where the residential block meets the galleria.

How far to the meeting?

About fifteen blocks. Walkable. There's a glass merchant along the old arcade who keeps a clear backroom and his mouth shut; Mirin will have booked it.

Ready?

She brought her hood up as an affirmative.

Yes. Just remember to stay back at least a block.

Grey left the ship and strode across the tarmac without looking back. As she reached the entrance to a pedestrian street that meandered into the galleria, Mando straightened himself and stalked down the ramp, sending it closed behind him and matching her pace.

The narrow street was busy but not too crowded, and seemed to be used mostly by off-shift locals. The general attire was well-worn, utilitarian, and dark, so Mando had no trouble keeping track of Grey's hood and shoulders as she occasionally wove around slow-moving groups or turned corners. After a few blocks, he heard a man's raised voice on the street, somewhere in between them, calling out an unfamiliar name.

Calla. Wait. Calla!

The man then picked up his pace and Mando spotted him amongst the loose crowd, moving towards Grey. As Mando moved to match his speed, he saw Grey stop and turn towards the approaching voice. She seemed to recognize him and looked startled but not alarmed.

Mando slowed; he had agreed to hold back. Noticing a textile stall just a few paces away from Grey, he came up beside it to listen from out of sight.

...thought that was you. Why didn't you let me know you were coming? I'm always interested in your latest.

Jolan, it's good to see you, and I'm sorry. The visit wasn't planned, and I'm in a rush.

But we're here now. I owe you a meal, and you can give me some updates on the trending exports. Everybody has to eat.

I'm afraid I've got an appointment. Next time?

Mando saw him shuffle a half-step forward.

Come on, the stew we like at Grabba's is on this week. After your meeting then?

I wish I could.

Calla, honestly...

Jolan trailed off and looked up as an armoured figure stepped in next to his conversation partner. Was that a Mandalorian?

Wha... what is this, Calla? A bodyguard?

No, he's... just... also late for an appointment.

Calla...

She's not available. Her time has been pre-purchased.

Mando took a step forward as he spoke and Jolan matched it with a step back.