Feathered Friends

[Emmara Lee]

Coruscant was still the jewel of the galaxy, even after the ravages of the plague. It had a bustling city life both for honest citizens and those with a more sinister purpose; or those who were plain lost, like the sullen-faced human slouching from cantina to cantina in search of somewhere to sleep and a job to keep her going. Coruscant was a more appealing place to Emmara than many of the other planets she had visited en route from Tatooine to here. It kept her constantly busy, constantly alert to the new things around her.

It was inevitable, really, that she be pulled to Coruscant. Very few people could escape its clutches completely; some visited once, others took up permanent residence. Emmara was one of the people in between, who couldn't live there but appreciated the noise and activity enough that she knew she would return again.

Right now, though, it looked like she'd be here for a while anyway. Nobody needed a hired hand on a ship offworld; not one as young and inexperienced as she was, not when there were dozens of others after the same jobs. Emmara mooched along with her hands in her pockets, not really paying attention to where she was going. On the endless city-world, everything looked alike in the end anyway. Sure, it was a little dingier along these roads, and they were becoming more like alleys, but ultimately it was all the same.

This was her last chance for the day before she'd have to give in and find a quiet, dark corner to sleep in. The Restless Wench, it was a seedy cantina that, she had been promised, was always full of people happy to help a young girl like herself. The sinister undertones didn't really occur to her - Emmara was still naive in the ways of the world. She pushed open the door and blinked back her surprise. Inside, the bar was jam-packed with humans, humanoids, and the downright odd. She had to fight her way up to the bar.

"Hey!" she yelled at the barman, waving her arm to attract his attention. He wandered over, scowling.

"No children."

"I'm not a child," Emmara huffed. "I'm old enough that I could drink you under the table, mate. I'm not even buying. I'm looking for work."

"We don't need any staff here, kid." He turned away to serve another customer before Emmara could speak again. She growled and started to swear in Tusken under her breath. The large, hairy alien sitting next to her grumbled in a language she didn't know and shifted down to another seat. Emmara turned around to view the room and came face to face with an alien. He, at least she assumed it was a he, was tall - he had bent over to study her - had icy blue skin, piercing indigo eyes, and pearly, iridescent white hair like feathers. He studied her closely.

"Ever heard of personal space?" Emmara snapped, startled by his appearance. The alien straightened up - he towered over her - and cocked his head to the side.

"You are looking for work?" he said, his Basic broken.

"Yes," Emmara said warily. The alien smiled.

"I can help you. Come with me." He walked out of the cantina, not bothering to look back to see if she was following. Emmara watched him go, thoughts racing. Was he for real? What was he? Who was he? Could he really help her? She sprinted forward as she realised that all her answers were walking out of the door, with him.

 

[Emmara Lee]

"Wait!" Emmara burst forth from the cantina and reached out, caught a hold of the alien's arm, and pulled him so that he stopped. The result was both of them losing their balance altogether. Emmara steadied herself, and then let go of his arm.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. Who are you?" she asked. Again he tilted his head to one side, a quick motion that put her in mind of a bird.

"I am Tiric. You need work? We are looking for someone to help us. It is a mutually beneficial arrangement." He spoke quickly, his words rattling out like bullets. "You are interested, why else would you follow?"

"Well, it all depends. You see, I like to know what a job is before diving in headfirst. I'm not going to sign up for anything that's going to land me on the wrong side of the law, or more specifically anything that's going to get me caught. So, Tiric, how's about you actually explain things to me?" Emmara folded her arms and tapped her foot, the universal sign for a man in trouble. Tiric seemed amused by this.

"You must meet the others," he explained. "I have a sister. She will be better able to explain it to you. Will you come with me?"

"What are you?"

"I am an Omwati, little human." Omwati. Another species that Emmara was unfamiliar with. She wondered how many there were in the galaxy, for every planet yielded another strange face, an odd language, a new name. If she travelled all her life, would she ever find them all? Most likely not, and she was wasting time. Here was potential work, money in her pocket and a room for the night, more if she was lucky. She couldn't afford to pass it up.

"Lead on," she gestured. "I'm just warning you now that if you're messing with me, you're going to wind up in a lot of pain." Again this amused Tiric but he said nothing, just led the way deeper into the darkness of the Coruscant underworld.

 

[Emmara Lee]

Tiric led her through winding streets away from the more brightly lit areas of Coruscant until they reached another cantina, the Smuggler's Rest. The name was familiar to Emmara - she had been warned to stay away from it. It was Bad News. Then again, she reflected, when had she ever listened to what anyone said? The minute the words for your own good came out she stopped paying attention. Tiric held the door open for her and without a second's hesitation she ducked through.

It was easy to see why this cantina had a bad reputation. A fight was in full flow as she entered; she had to duck to avoid an axe. Around the fight several people were placing bets and shouting lewd chants; in darker corners and booths, hooded figures negotiated dirty deals. The barman eyed her up, then his gaze turned to Tiric and he gestured towards a door at the back.

"Through there?" she asked. Tiric nodded and pushed a path through the bustle, knocking at the door. He said something quick in a language she didn't recognise and the door opened, allowing them both entry. Emmara was pushed into the centre of the room to stand in a circle of light. Shadows flitted around her, and then a brief conversation passed in that odd language.

"You, what is your name?" One of the shadows stepped forward and Emmara assumed this was Tiric's sister. She was tall and slender with the same iridescent feathery hair and sharp violet eyes. She sized Emmara up and didn't look impressed. Emmara drew herself up to her full height and folded her arms, eyes narrowed.

"What business is it of yours?" she snapped. "I was promised work, not an interrogation." The Omwati female's face cracked into a smile.

"I am Viera," she said. "Yes, we have work for you. It is not a difficult job, unless you fail and then you may be shot at. It is useful to know your name in case we have to bury you." Emmara gulped and then met the Omwati's eyes squarely.

"Emmara," she said haughtily. "What exactly do you want me to do?"

Viera's answering grin did not inspire her with confidence.

 

[Emmara Lee]

It seemed that she had passed some sort of test, for after this she was offered a drink and a comfortable chair. Emmara accepted both but merely held the glass, waiting impatiently for the Omwati twins to enlighten her as to what the job entailed. There were others in the room but these two seemed to be in charge, and so she waited them out as best she could. At last, Viera sat opposite her.

"Have you ever killed a man?" she asked, rather bluntly. Emmara shrugged.

"I suppose so." When the tribe was attacked she'd taken as many down as she could. "Not for a while, but it's not the sort of thing you forget." Viera looked impressed and said something sharply to her brother. From the pleased look on Tiric's avian face it was a compliment, or at least not an insult.

"That will make things easier, then. There is a man here we wish to be... taken out of certain equations. He has offended the person we are representing by making life more difficult than it needs to be. We are to gain an audience with him, and then it will be simple to remove him from the business table." A very peculiar way of putting it, but though the words dressed it up the meaning was the same: get in and kill the man. Emmara nodded. It wasn't really frightening to her. One of the things she had learnt when growing up was that it all came down to life and death - ideally your life, their death. If someone tried to kill you there was no time to have a conscience.

"Okay. What's his name?"

"That doesn't matter. You simply need to address him as 'Dad'." Emmara's confusion must have shown on her face, for Viera continued. "His daughter has been taken by certain parties." Their boss, Emmara summarised. "You resemble her enough that we will be able to pose as having rescued you. He will not be fooled once he sees you up close-"

"-but by then it'll be too late," Emmara finished. Viera nodded.

"You will be amply recompensed."

"Fine. When do we start?" Viera studied Emmara carefully.

"Most humans your age would have difficulty in deciding to undertake such a task," she commented. Emmara shrugged.

"We're wasting time here. You're not paying me to chat, remember? Let's go before I change my mind and you have to find some other lookalike with no compunction about killing the old man." Emmara rose and headed for the door. There was a rapid conversation behind her and then Tiric and Viera were beside her, ushering her through the crowded cantina and back out into the streets of Coruscant.

 

[Emmara Lee]

The speeder flew silently through the night, weaving expertly through the traffic as Viera and Tiric prepared Emmara. Her hair was pulled out of its neat braid and tousled to make it look rough, messy; the hair of someone escaped from her kidnappers. Her jacket was replaced with an expensive coat and her face smudged a little with dirt. The more they worked, the less Emmara felt she would be able to pull this off. No one would believe she was the missing daughter of this rich obstacle, and she voiced her concerns.

"I won't make it past security," she said with a frown. "How exactly do you expect me to fool them all?"

"You will only need to show them this." Tiric produced a gold ring from his pocket. Gemstones gleamed in the lights that flickered past the window. It must have cost a fortune, Emmara thought, staring at it the way she had eyed up caravans crossing the desert. Tiric must have noticed the calculating look in her eye, for he laughed.

"You may keep it, if trinkets are what you desire," he said, tossing it back. "She will have no use for it now."

"Is she dead?" asked Emmara half-heartedly, her eyes still on the ring.

"It is not your concern," Viera said sharply, before Tiric could answer. "Not that you are concerned, are you? What sort of a human are you?"

"The sort that you were lucky to find," Emmara shot back. "Give me the shiny." Tiric tossed it to her. Emmara caught it deftly, but almost dropped it for the moment it touched her fingers, images flew through her mind.

Sitting by a desk, watching figures dance as they changed the world. Listening to com-link conversations over dinner, wishing he would simply chat to her. The best tutors teaching worthless knowledge. Longing for attention, wanting him to be proud of her. Curly hair and a bright smile calling 'Papa!'

Emmara swore as the ring hit the floor. Tiric and Viera were watching her; one curious, one suspicious.

"Missed," Emmara shrugged, reaching down to pick it up. No further images came to mind and she donned the ring without further worry. She didn't believe that they hadn't noticed, but what could she say? I saw the girl's memories? No, she needed the money and the work too badly to be labelled a crazy. The Omwati didn't comment on it further, and Emmara fixed her mind on what was to come, touching the reassuring length of the blade concealed about her. I am Tusken, she thought firmly. Humans were expendable.

 

[Emmara Lee]

Emmara stumbled from the speeder, frantically running towards the tall office block where the target was known to work late most nights, especially since his daughter had been taken. Aware that Tiric and Viera were scrutinising her performance, Emmara threw herself into playing the part. She fell, picked herself up, ran forward further, aware that those on security were watching her approach. She flew through the doors, eventually collapsing in a heap in the brightly-lit lobby. She summoned memories of watching her tribe die around her, of fighting to save them and failing; memories of their homes in flame and being dragged away, screaming. Tears began to flow down her cheeks and she let out a sob.

"You there!" A guard, a pathetic man who was off-balance at the sight of a crying girl, came over. He didn't even have his blaster ready. Inwardly, she scoffed; outwardly she flung herself at him, making sure that the hand with the gleaming ring on clutched at his armour.

"I want my papa!" she sobbed into him. "Please, let me see him!" They had promised back-up if security weren't fooled, but Emmara was determined to do this alone. Tiric had taken her aside and promised there would be extra work if she was successful, and Coruscant was as good a place as any to begin building a reputation for being reliable. Besides, she knew how much she was getting paid for this, and it was worth putting on a good show.

"Your papa?" The guard was confused. He turned to another and they had a frantic conversation. Emmara heard the words the Director? and Ruby and smirked to herself.

"What's your name?" Another guard had joined them. This one was an alien that she didn't recognise, with horns and red skin.

"Ruby," she sniffed. "Ruby Albrem. I was out- I had an argument with my papa and walked out on him- some people, they took me, and I couldn't get away, only they left me alone, and I ran, and I think they might be following me, and I'm so scared!" This last part was said with the wail of a frightened girl, channelled from many years ago. The guards exchanged looks and then the alien, rather awkwardly, put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"We'll take you upstairs," he said. It wasn't necessarily an admission that she was who she claimed to be, but it got her further into the building, closer to her target, so to Emmara it was a success. She gave them both watery smiles and thanked them over and over; in her mind's eye she could already see her pay for this job.