Beyond the Black

[Aver Brand]

It’d be called working late anywhere else; on Nadir, you worked ‘round the clock, because what’s day and night on a station that never sleeps?

Bags under her eyes were nothing new, though. Erida Teheron took yet another sip of caf, then summoned yet another document to her screen. Blinking a few times, the skeleton of a woman leaned closer to the shimmering display.

Frowned.

Glanced at the clock – frowned again.

At this hour, her boss was either sleeping or killing people, and interrupting either was spectacularly bad for one’s health.

And, well… the message, while unusual, was certainly straightforward enough. Erida stared at it for a moment longer, then brought up her lengthy list of contacts.

Teheron, find me an astrogator. Unaffiliated, long-term.
No budget limit.

@Mara D'Lessio Merrill​

 

[Mara D'Lessio Merrill]

[member="Aver Brand"]

“I'm sorry, my dear,” he said, patting her hand with a tentacle. She snatched it away.

“It's because I'm not rich anymore. Don't dress it up, Kalaphess.”

“I simply feel your discomfort when we try our usual pursuits.” He closed his luggage firmly. “And as we have had this conversation, in one form or another, so many times-”

Mara slid off the bed and stalked into the bathroom. “Know what, I'm sick of it too. Don't know why I'm seeing you off.”

“Goodbye, my dear.” Kalaphess slung the bag over his writhing shoulder and oozed out the door.

Mara balled her fist and slammed it into the bathroom wall. In truth, their relationship had been on the rocks since before she spent her fortune on a private war. Though he'd been there for her through various recuperations, he'd never signed up for this. In her heart of hearts she couldn't blame him for leaving, and that was probably the worst part.

Her datapad chimed. Wrapping her bathrobe tighter, Mara settled on the edge of the bed and keyed up the message. She chewed her lip, tapped out a short RSVP, then flopped back on the pillow. Feth, but it still smelled like him.

“Ice cream first, then gainful employment. Priorities. Gotta get out of the house.”

 

[Aver Brand]

Unassuming place in the Nest – eastside, too. Streets weren’t quite as littered with trash, and there were no bodies floating in the ditch.

Did nothing for the smell, though.

Past the peeling façade and just inside the door stood two men, with two mean looks and two meaner rifles. Their only greeting was a stiff gesture towards the weapons scanner.

Three floors higher, after a rattling elevator ride, the woman would find hereself at the end of a plain corridor. No signs, no windows – just the closing lift behind her and a blast door at the far end of the narrow hall.

The office proper was just as spartan as the rest of the building. No color, no decoration, and no chairs, for that matter. A pale woman with bone-white hair was seated in the only object of luxury in the room – a plush black armchair made of the finest bantha leather.

As the second set of blast doors slid open to let [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"] into the room, Erida Teheron stood to offer a bony hand.

Her nails were immaculate, though.

“Welcome, Miss Merrill – or do you prefer D’Lessio?” The umbaran settled back into her seat and waved the pair of guards out. “Before we get down to business… have you ever been to Point Nadir before?”

 

[Mara D'Lessio Merrill]

[member="Aver Brand"]

Once upon a time, Mara would have cared deeply about putting her best foot forward. She still wanted, needed, this job - but she also had damage to reappropriate. Her sleeveless shirt revealed scar tissue from tricep to fingertip on the left, an old blaster impact on the right shoulderblade, and a matched set of lightsaber scars on her midriff and the small of her back. She'd come very close to death or paralysis more than once. She knew she looked fairly tawdry next to Erida and the chair, but so be it.

After the Umbaran shook her hand and took a seat in the room's only chair, Mara sat down on the floor with her back against the wall. It seemed the thing to do.

"You can call me Mara, or Captain Merrill. I came through here once as a kid, just briefly. Spent a lot of time in similar places, though. You said you needed an astrogator?"

 

[Aver Brand]

[member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"]

“I did.”

The pale woman gave no indication Mara’s chosen perch bothered her. Hardly the worst quirk she’d witnessed in her lifetime. Around here, the only place you’d find standards was abreast with corpses – in the gutter.

“More precisely, I need an astrogator with a lack of money,” her black-hole eyes flickered from her display to the Captain, “and an abundance of skill.”

“You seemed a perfect match, Captain Merrill.” Whether Erida actually smiled or was merely the victim of a flickering light, it was anyone’s guess. “On paper, of course. I’ll dare assume your coming here means you’re interested, so I’ll cut to the chase – the job is long. Could be several months, could be a year.”

Pausing, Miss Teheron folded her hands with the sharp click of nails.

“Will that be a problem?”

 

[Mara D'Lessio Merrill]

[member="Aver Brand"]

"If you know I'm running on empty, you know what I've spent my money on. That's the kind of commitment it's hard to walk away from." She grimaced and adjusted her posture. "But my doctor said I shouldn't get impaled again anytime soon, and I wouldn't mind eating at some point this month, so yeah. Yeah, you've got an astrogator."

She sucked her teeth in thought.

"You're looking for a longish commitment, so it's not a one-and-done like driving a jump through the ThonBoka or something. You're not looking for an on-retainer thing, sounds like. Seems to me like you're after someone to do what my family does best, apart from piss people off and fly circles around'em." One eyebrow rose. "Yeah?"

 

[Aver Brand]

[member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"]

“Outstanding. And yes, quite – though if you should like to employ your, mm, other skills, you’re welcome to do so.”

With a few final taps at her display, Erida transferred the relevant data to a slim, encrypted datapad on her desk. This she slid over the dimmed metal, indicating the signature line with a sharp black nail.

“Normally we offer credits in compensation, but if you’ve other preferences… we’re an open-minded business.” The number listed on the two pages’ worth of contract had a zero or two more than what the Captain was likely expecting. Honest pay for dishonest work, apparently.

“If not, sign here, and I won’t keep you any longer.”

 

[Mara D'Lessio Merrill]

[member="Aver Brand"]

Between the Foundation Trust and Eiarra Denirel, Mara had learned to read contract-speak fairly well in recent years. She'd learned to spot most tricks and careful ambiguities. This particular contract didn't strike her as sketchy. More importantly, when she applied her empathic talents and Lorrdian training to Miz Erida, she didn't catch any bad faith. Still, she read the contract twice before signing. It felt like signing her life away, but that many zeros translated to an awful lot of dead Mandos.

"Done and done. You got a ship lined up for this? I've got the Scar, but it might not always fit the bill. Depends where we're going, of course."

 

[Aver Brand]

[member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"]

“That transport you docked in the Tethers? Looks appropriate for the job.”

After storing the datapad into some unseen drawer, Erida leaned over to the comm. “Veslan, get up here—” then to Mara again, “Mr. Kojak will be accompanying you, as will Mr. Therek.”

“Hullo,” greeted the summoned guard as he stepped in through the doors. “You must be the new hire, eh? Boots on the street call me Kojak, but Veslan’s alright – we gonna be starin’ at each other’s mugs a while anyhoo.” The warm hand he offered stood in absurd contrast to the combat armor and rifle hanging across his back. Still, his easy grin persisted.

“Mafir’s downstairs, ma’am,” he continued, turning to Teheron. “Says he’ll have everythin’ prepped in an hour or so.”

“Very good. Safe journeys to you both.”

“Ya ready to go or do d’you gotta stock up on supplies first? Ain’t no market like the Point, eheh. We’re waiting on the givin anyhoo, so,” the man shrugged, rubbing at nonexistent scruff as they left the office, “dunno. Wanna grab a bite? Ship rations taste something awful, and Nadir’s got the best street food this side of Shaddaa. It’d be a damn crime if I didna take ya to Holgo’s Open Kitchen. Those meatballs… oof. Finger-lickin’, I tell ya.”

 

[Mara D'Lessio Merrill]

[member="Aver Brand"]

"Veslan Kojak, eh? And your friend's Mafir Therek, or are those two different guys?"

She tagged along behind the loquacious gunman. Friendly sort, well-muscled, but dreadfully vanilla. It took a fairly special human to pique Mara's interest. No real worries about complications, then.

"We're stocked and then some. My ship's the Scar of Ilum - battle shields, exotic turrets." She walked a little faster, to where a panoramic viewport looked down on a section of Point Nadir's docking area. "The little round one with the two blunt mandibles. It's a Corellian boat, lots of mods and getaway tricks. I'm running on half-crew at the moment, just Eiarra, Kolatta, and Styr. Two women, one half-Valkyri man." A tacit note, if he needed it, that causing any sort of trouble just wouldn't slide. Valkyri were no joke physically, and Styr - a longtime Underground commando - less than most. "We're all pretty much good to go once your friend and your gear get aboard."

 

[Aver Brand]

[member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"]

Veslan held up a single finger. “One Therek’s more than enough fer me. Gives me a headache anytime he starts waxin’ poetic about nav equations.”

“And thass good. You look the sort that runs a tight ship. Thass good too. Wouldna have expected anything less from Miz Teheron, to be honest. She’s choosy as all Nether, that one.”

Kojak stopped at the edge of the walkway, where the docks spilled into the streets of the Nest. “Well, if I can’t convince ya to try those meatballs…” he gave a half-hearted shrug, “I’ll meetcha with Mefit at the Scar in… thirty? Yah, that oughta do.”

 

[Mara D'Lessio Merrill]

[member="Aver Brand"]

"Sounds fine to me," said Mara. Like feth was she going to eat a predetermined dish prepared by unknown hands in an unfamiliar setting with a gangster on home turf - friendly or not. That was what prepackaged tomo-spiced Karkan ribenes were for. "Should be plenty of time for me and Styr to finish clearing out a couple of bunks. We lost some friends, I'll tell you that off the top, so make sure Therek watches his mouth about the previous occupants, yeah?" Private wars, stunningly enough, had a tendency to get people killed with plenty of blame to go around.

Mara paused on her way down an asteroid corridor. "Oh, and one other thing. Hope you don't mind trophies."

The Scar of Ilum was a small-to-midsize freighter, the kind that generally wound up individualized to a fault. Over and above her modifications, the ship had plenty of character. Most of it involved displays of especially interesting Mandalorian armour and armour accessories -- gently used.

 

[Aver Brand]

Thirty minutes later on the nose, Kojak appeared at the boarding ramp of the Scar, with Therek in tow. Compact travel packs aside, they appeared bereft of any additional belongings.

Though, admittedly, Veslan’d stuffed a few holos into a side pocket at the last minute. Nothing like rewatching the whole Rod Delaney: Warden of the Sky to spice up hyperspace boredom.

While Mafir dabbed the sauce from his nonexistent lips, the criminal sought out the astrogator with keen eyes. “Less go, yeah? I’ll be honest – kinda itchin’ to get off the station. ‘S been ages.”

His face broadened into a smile as he took in the ship. If the trophies bothered him, he had an odd way of showing it.

[member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"]

 

[Mara D'Lessio Merrill]

[member="Aver Brand"]

The Scar's remaining crew congregated in the hold. They eyed Kojak and Therek with varying levels of interest.

"Folks," said Mara, "this is is Veslan Kojak and Mafir Therek. They'll be bunking with us for the next while."

"Passengers?" Styr said. The big Valkyri tilted his head, braids dangling. "Or do they work for the folks we came to see?"

"They're working the same job we are." Mara pointed in turn to the huge blonde man, the tall woman in combat furs, and the slim Chalactan Adept. "Veslan, Mafir, this is Styr, Kolatta, and Eiarra Denirel. They've been with me a few years now, bit don't feel too much like you're stepping into the middle of a family. We're used to taking new folks aboard. Get settled in and I'll take us out."

 

[Aver Brand]

[member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"]

“Fantastic,” Kojak spoke through an ear-wide grin. Already he was shaking the hands of anyone who’d accept the gesture, apparently unfazed by the various shades of grim, dark, or intimidating.

Professional deformation, perhaps.

“Pleasure ta meet y’all. Call me Veslan, yeah? No need for them formalities, I reckon. We’ll be seein’ a lot of each other the next couple months – might as well get a head start on it, amrite?”

The man nodded, more to himself than anyone else, then grabbed Therek by the shoulder and led him to the bunks.

 

[Mara D'Lessio Merrill]

[member="Aver Brand"]

The hatch closed behind the two Point Nadir mercs. Mara chewed the inside of her cheek and leaned against a stack of crates, arms folded. "Thoughts, folks?"

"Too friendly," said Denirel. "Anyone who smiles that much has a problem, or is flat-out lying."

Kolatta shook her head. "Eh, everyone likes to be liked. Can't fault him for that. There's a brokenness to him, way deep down. Our kind of broken? Maybe. The Force moves around him - no Sith or Jedi, maybe not even aware of himself, but there's something about him."

It wasn't often the Zahat'n'iran hunter spoke at length, or betrayed that much insight, so Mara took this about as seriously as anything else Kolatta did. The scarred old Master of the Force, with her idiosyncratic furs and equally odd hangups about actually using the Force, had demonstrated sound judgment for years. If anyone could rein in Mara and Eiarra Denirel now that both had gone to the Dark Side, it was Kolatta, whose soul was entirely her own business. With a grimace, Mara pushed away from the crates and headed for the Scar's cockpit. "Works for me. Keep an ear out, Eiarra."

The Theran Listener nodded. Whatever the two mercs discussed in privacy, Denirel would hear.

 

[Aver Brand]

Every party had their naysayers and Negative Nancies. In the case of the Kojak-Therek duo, the underappreciated role fell to the givin. He turned on the enforcer with his perpetually soured expression – Veslan had always thought he looked a bit like the drama masks of the old theatres.

A snap of bony fingers brought him back to the present.

“Focus, you dimwit.”

Mafir was already pacing about their bunks, checking every nook and cranny. Kojak rubbed his head-ridges with a tired sigh. “How many times…”

“You think somehow you’ll find success where you didn’t on your previous twenty attempts, Kojak?”

The taller of the pair grunted and flopped down on the spartan mattress. Hrm. Unfortunate for his back, but a job was a job was a job. “Whatever. I’m gonna take a nap, Teheron had me running nightshift yesterday.”

“How absolutely terrible.”

When he received no answer, Therek cast a furtive glance over his shoulder – and found Veslan already curled up on his side, one hand under the flat of the pillow.

Holding his knife, no doubt. Whether you managed to survive Point Nadir or not, it left its mark on you.

A long-suffering sigh escaped the grimace of his mouth as he smoothed out the sheets on his own bed. Straightening out his ironed suit, the givin departed the bunk again to consult the Captain of the Scar about their planned astrogational methods.

[member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"] at least gave the impression that she could hold intelligent conversation.

 

[Mara D'Lessio Merrill]

[member="Aver Brand"]

The Scar of Ilum had seen better days. Maintenance tended to take a back seat to obsessive vendetta. Still, with guests aboard, Mara found a moment to clean the dashboard. She was this engaged when the Givin came into the bridge.

"You and your partner getting settled in alright?" Mara sprayed cleaning solution on another instrument panel and applied a rag. She glanced at the Givin - not normally her type, but intelligence gleamed in his deep-seated eye sockets. More interesting than Kojak, for sure.

"Pull up a chair and tell me a little bit about yourself. We're gonna be getting close on this trip, might as well start now."

 

[Aver Brand]

Being a givin had its perks. Although Mafir thought the disadvantages oft outweighed them – the gift of awesome intelligence in a galaxy full of pea-brained species that hardly deserved the designation of ‘sentient’ was more often a curse than and here he was going again with the train of tho—

“Yes, quite. Thank you.”

The perk he’d been thinking about was, of course, the utterly flat expression every givin was born with. Couldn’t laugh. Couldn’t cry.

He just… stood there. Watching. Judging.

Equations in heaven, this place was dirty. If he had a nose to turn up, he would’ve.

He cast one last look about the cockpit, then tentatively took the proffered seat. “I used to teach Advanced astrogational computation and Multidimensional differentials at New Habat University.” What a mouthful. “Now I don’t.”

A beat. Mafir inspected the instruments in the dashboard – navicomputers were more of a hobby for him than anything else. He didn’t need them.

“And what brings a D’Lessio Merrill to Point Nadir?”

[member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"]