Hell or High Water

[Adelle Bastiel]

The splitting headache woke her first before her spine started to complain. Adelle tried to sit up in her bed only to find her hands cuffed together. Her mind tried to make sense of it but a thick haze in her brain made it difficult to think. She tried to kick her feet over the side of her bed but hit something yielding and warm. That was enough to stop her in her tracks. The hut she lived in only had three beings: herself, Leigh, and Na'an. Leigh was a droid, and Na'an slept on the opposite side of their shared living space. Adelle lay still in the darkness and closed her eyes, trying to think beyond the vibro-axe in her forehead.

The club. She'd been at a club, drinking. They'd just finished transporting a shipment of triticale to one of Noba's contractors. Had there been an argument or had it just been a discussion? She'd headed to a club near the spaceport to drink, to dance, and to forget her nightmares. Then . . . something. Someone. Words said to her or at her. Red flags. She ignored them. A drink, bright as the club's neon.

Then this.

"Sonuva—" she hissed. Drugged. She'd been drugged and abducted. That explained the headache and the stun-cuffs now around her wrists. Na'an would never let her hear the end of this. The metal walls and floors around her vibrated with a constant low rumble. Adelle grimaced: she knew that sound and feel anywhere. She was in a freighter shuttling through hyperspace.

As her eyes adjusted and her headache cleared, she could see the other lifeforms in the cramped space. Were they drugged like she had been or had they been here a while? Best bet: she was on her own and could expect no help. Still, it didn't hurt to try.

"Anyone awake?"



[member="Scherezade deWinter"] | [member="Vidalu Na'an"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Despite the pain inside her head, Scherezade was grinning from ear to ear. Her mission, so far, was a huge success. She'd entered the club… However many hours before it was. Any woman could wear a little black dress. Scherezade had chosen a little white dress instead, and it had gotten the attention she'd been after. She had danced, making her way from one patron of the club to another, until she got close to the one she wanted. And that was when someone had put something in her drink, and the next thing the Sithling knew, she was on this ship, gagged and bound.

The drugs were still in her system, but their effects had dwindled down sufficiently for her to feel a little bit more like herself again. From there, shifting the blood to clean it out. It would've been easier if there was a restroom nearby, but she could be operational even in her current state. Assuming there were cameras on her, Scherezade put her hands to her hair, removing a pin, and let he pin touch the cuffs on her hands as she pretended to pick their lock while in reality she simply used the Force to break them.

Only then did Scherezade look around. More people, most of them unconscious. Not alone, then. That made things only so much harder, most of the time. While she was usually a huge supporter of leaving a trail of dead bodies, doing that wasn't the smartest thing when you were meant to stay anonymous and incognito. Bodies just provided a trail that could lead right back to you.

And one of them had just asked if anyone else was awake.

"Mornin'," Scherezade said cheerfully once she'd removed the gag and spit on the floor to remove icky gag-taste, "don't suppose you've got a clue where we're headed?"

[member="Adelle Bastiel"] [member="Vidalu Na'an"]

 

[Vidalu Na'an]

Vidalu Na'an paced through the length of the Hawk. Once around through the cockpit, down the narrow hallways towards the barracks and refresher, past the storage hatch and her treadmill, back up towards the cockpit again. She paced it once, twice, three times. And, just for good measure, she paced it again.

The constant repetition would not bother Leigh--droids in general, and she in particular, did not seem prone to annoyance. The constant motion, however, was good for Na'an. The rhythm of her feet helped her to balance her thoughts, rein in her emotions, keep her calm when feeling tense or irritated. It was why she ran. But this morning's run...it had only left her feeling only more unsettled, more sure that something had gone wrong in the night.

The third member of their team, [member="Adelle Bastiel"] had left the ship last night with her pay and a promise to be home by morning. And when Na'an's alarm had gone off that morning, signaling their need to move on to the next shipment on the next planet, she woke to an empty bunk.

It wasn't normal. Even if Na'an hadn't been Force Sensitive, she'd be able to feel it. Adelle never broke a promise. In the two years they'd worked together since leaving together...every time she ran off like this, possessed of some strange impulse she couldn't or wouldn't explain, she'd at the very least always came back when she said she would. Doc always came back. Even on the dangerous worlds, she was back on time. And yet, here of all worlds...one of the most secure in the Confederacy, right in its very heart...Naboo was supposed to be safe.

But still. The empty bunk.

She entered the cockpit a third time, running her fingers through her hair. "It's almost midday," she said distractedly to the droid fiddling with the navigation controls. "No way something didn't happen. This bar or club or whatever it was, they would have closed hours ago."

[member="Scherezade DeWinter"]

 

[LE-03 (Leigh)]

"Club Parallax."

[SIZE=10.5pt]Leigh had already been downloading information on the club when Na'an had started pacing. While her partner was naturally restless, the droid was placid and methodical, even when addressing the possibility that something had, indeed, gone wrong. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]It was true that Adelle Bastiel had been gone far longer than she had promised, and it was equally true that Club Parallax had been, based on their Holonet data, closed for at least six hours. Leigh had originally opted to wait when the Healer did not return, out of respect for her privacy. Adelle had had good reason to want some...distance (for reasons she had been sworn to keep from the woman now circling the ship for a fourth time). But even if she was avoiding coming back for some reason, she was not the type to stay out without at least contacting the ship. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]And there had been no contact.[/SIZE]

So Leigh continued researching.

[SIZE=10.5pt]Parallax had been one of the more prominent clubs in Jan-gwa City about ten years ago, hosting Senators, Queens, and visiting dignitaries during their tours of the Mid Rim. In the last decade, however, it had fallen into some disrepair--in part because fewer and fewer human Naboo opted to leave larger cities like Theed for the outside territories. In the last couple of years, reports filtered in that the club now hosted a less savory clientele of local gangsters and smuggler communities. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]It would not be entirely out of the question that something could have happened at a place such as this. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]“As Adelle is no longer responding to her comlink frequency," [/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]she said as Na'an [/SIZE]rounded her way back into the cockpit. [SIZE=10.5pt] [/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]"It would be reasonable for us to investigate. The club is only a short walk from this docking pay.”[/SIZE]

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

[SIZE=11pt]They sounded cheery. The type of cheery that said "I've done worse." Adelle was both relieved and disturbed at the same time. She contemplated her cuffs and the idea of not responding but the chances of the other person writing off her first comment as their imagination were slim to none.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]"Not the VIP portion of the club," she said. "I'll be almost disappointed if it's a five star hotel."[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]They hadn't been given food, so either the trip was a short one or the abductors would be coming around later. Both options gave them time. Maybe they could make something happen before the ship landed.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]"Can you tell what part of the ship we're in? I can't see a damn thing."[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt][member="Scherezade deWinter"] | [member="Vidalu Na'an"][/SIZE]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Scherezade let a chuckle out as she jumped off the cot she'd been on and began to stretch her muscles out. She didn't particularly enjoy being unconscious; but it was sort of worse when someone else made you that against your will. Drugged sleep tended to be of the sort in which you didn't move too much, and by the Force how many times had it happened by now that she already knew the details about it?

Stepping over others who were with them there, who were still asleep, the Sithling made her way to the other awake woman, taking her hands gently in hers before snapping the cuffs loose. There was no need for that here.

"Not a krakkin' clue," she smiled as she tossed the broken cuffs away, "I'm not super knowledgable about ships. I know how to use an autopilot and that's more or less it."

That was not entirely true. She also knew how to write on them with her blood to cast blood spells, but that was hardly something that her new companion had to know about.

"You can call me Feyre for now," she said with another smile. A fake name, until she knew if she could trust her. There was little doubt in her mind that the other woman would be doing something similar.

Rising from that cot now, Scherezade walked over to the door. Was she going to have to kick it in order to get it to open? Alert someone that they were awake, most likely before due time?

Carefully, she put her hand against the door handle, and pushed gently.

It opened.

Turning back to the other woman, Scherezade grinned. "Shall we go find out?"

[member="Adelle Bastiel"] [member="LE-03 (Leigh)"] [member="Vidalu Na'an"]

 

[Vidalu Na'an]

Na'an pushed the door to Club Parallax open with one shoulder, Leigh a silent hulk behind her. Before entering, they had agreed on a plan of action--as the laws in Jan-gwa city did not include provisions to recognize Leigh's independence, she would not act unless Na'an signaled her to act. Her mere size would serve as a deterrent, should anyone give them trouble while they were looking for answer. The pretense was far from what either of them preferred, but it would get the job done.

The inside of the club was dark, with only a few beings sitting at the bar--clearly, it was far too early in the day for the type of clientele that would require the dance floor. Na'an took a seat and signaled for the bartender, a blank-faced droid model with multiple arms.

"Tihaar," she said simply, and accepted the glass the droid gave her with only a nod. She sipped, wincing in appreciation, then took a deep breath and simply...listened. To the quiet music being piped through the bar, to the clink of ice in her glass, to the whirring of the bartender's joints as it poured another drink for the men at the end of the bar.

To the conversations around her.

It didn't take long.

"Man, last night's take was disappointing."

"Yousa tink so? Meesa saw you with a bombed pretty lady..."

"Yeah, but she was the only one to take the bait. This place doesn't attract the high-class bitches like it used to."

"But the ones that do come here, no one's going to miss...besides, Isn't that why you keep the stuff behind the bar?"

"Yes, yes! Meesa saw yousa use the stuff plenty."

"That stuff's so damned expensive, though. I had to go through four drinks for the queen with the scars before she dropped."

"True. Barsabbas is only going keep paying for the stuff as long as you come through with a pretty take."

"Meesa wonder why yousa bother with scar lady if Meester Barsabbas is so bombed picky."

"Bro, you see her eyes? He'll pay out the nose for a girl with eyes like that, scars or no."


Na'an brought her glass to her lips, only dimly aware that her hands were shaking. She then put the glass down, taking another deep breath before turning to the beings to her left.
"I'm sorry," she said evenly, "I think I must have misunderstood. You said you picked up a scarred woman with...interesting eyes, was it?"

The nearest of the group, a Gungan missing an ear, turned to scowl at her.
"Yousa bery bery rude to listen to what weesa sayin', missy. Yousa really want dat kinda trouble?"

Na'an only smiled--the expression felt tight and false on her lips. "I think I can handle it."

The second man rose behind the Gungan; he had put down the drink he was holding, only to pull out a vibro-knife. The third, a giant of a human who clearly spent a lot of time lifting weights, was already advancing.
"You want to know about the queen with the scars, hun?" he said, his smile matching Na'an's. "If you're that interested, we can take you to her."

"I think not. Leigh?"

[member="Adelle Bastiel"], [member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[LE-03 (Leigh)]

Leigh was used to holding her silence on worlds where robotic sentience was not widely accepted. The policy was widely accepted on worlds that had been occupied during the Clone wars, which overlapped with the worlds where they did business more often than not. So she had learned to play the role of the silent, dumb machine. It was actually quite useful to be so disregarded in certain scenarios--it gave her the freedom to listen, to observe, to learn information that would not have been exposed if organics thought her capable of independent thought.

So as Na'an sat at the bar and sipped tihaar, Leigh listened.

She listened as the three gentlemen--two humans, one Gungan--discussed a "disappointing take" last night.

She listened as they revealed the nature of their take: human cargo, drugged into compliance to be sold off world.

And she listened as they described their prey the previous night--a pretty woman, and a woman with eyes that made her worth targeting despite her scars.

Adelle.

At that moment, the droid's composure almost broke. The thought of her friend, drugged and stolen away, used as living chattel on some off world slave market...She was just about to lurch forward and throttle whichever being she could reach until she wrung Adelle's location out of him, when Na'an abruptly put down her glass and turned.

"I'm sorry," she said evenly, "I think I must have misunderstood. You said you picked up a scarred woman with...interesting eyes, was it?"

Her partner sounded so calm--far calmer than she had been aboard the Hawk. For a microsecond, Leigh pondered what would result in such a demeanor. Then she saw Na'an's hands, balled so rightly in her lap that the knuckles were turning white, the nails digging into her palms.

Vidalu Na'an was far from calm. In fact, it had been a long time since LE-03 had seen her this angry. If she hadn't given the signal just then, Leigh might have had to act to keep her from killing them.

"Leigh?"

Leigh needed no further prompting. She stepped forward, her bulk blocking the two humans from reaching Na'an, then reached forward to grab the one with the knife by the neck. It took no effort to fling him halfway across the bar, crashing into a glass table. Turning her attention to the larger man, she slammed into him with her cannon arm, pushing until she pinned him against the wall with her bulk. She flipped on her hologram to a face she'd only used a few times before, and modulated her vocals to match.

It was a Wookiee's face that the human saw pinning him to the wall, and a Wookiee's earsplitting roar that filled the bar.

[member="Adelle Bastiel"] [member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Vidalu Na'an]

Efficient as always. Na'an had only needed to say her partner's name, and two of the three were out of the picture entirely--one human groaning and bleeding into a pile of broken glass on the far side, the other pinned to the wall and clearly not going anywhere. Only the Gungan was left, and by the nasty greyish tint of his skin, the droid's Wookiee impression had done more than enough to neutralize him as a threat too.

It was almost pitiable. Na'an knew what a Wookiee's roar could do to a nervous system.

She slid off her barstool, closing the gap between her and the Gungan in two swift steps, and took his chin in one hand. She tilted him downwards to meet her good eye, no longer smiling.

"I'd like to be clear," she said softly. "I am very interested in where you sent...'the queen with the scars', was it?"

She turned to the man pinned to the wall momentarily; the pressure Leigh's cannon was placing on his larynx would only let him gurgle something vaguely affirmative.

"Right," she said, returning to the Gungan's terrified gaze. "From what I can tell, you three have been using this club as a trafficking front for some guy named Barsabbas. I want his location and where you sent the shipment of girls from last night."

If anything, the Gungan went even paler. "Meesa canna give yousa dat info! Weesa in very very big debt, if Barsabbas don' get the girls--"

Now it was the Gungan's turn to gurgle, as Na'an's hand went sharply from his chin to his throat. She dragged him off the barstool, down to her eye level, and squeezed until his eyes bulged.

"Then you should have sold yourselves," she growled in his remaining ear, "like any self-respecting vermin. Coordinates. Or I give you to the droid."

Behind them, Na'an's words were punctuated with yet another guttural Wookiee growl from Leigh. The Gungan went cold to the touch and made a strange, high-pitched squeal from between her fingers; when Na'an loosened her grip, the amphibian collapsed in a wet heap at her feet, gagging something about Coruscant. It only took a few more minutes to get the precise coordinates they needed.

[member="Adelle Bastiel"], [member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Welp, great, she had no clue either. If Na'an or Leigh had been here, they likely would've been able to figure it out. Based on the limited number of bunks and the relatively small space they'd been confined to, Adelle guessed this wasn't originally a bunk room. Probably somewhere close to the aft. She massaged her wrists where the cuffs had chafed, trying to get blood and proper feeling back into her hands. They could probably count on running into guards of some kind. Adelle blew a sigh through her lips. Everything here was an unknown quantity; she'd have to play her cards close.

"You can call me Feyre for now," she said with another smile. Turning back to the other woman, Scherezade grinned. "Shall we go find out?"

"Kore," she said. "Let's."



[member="Scherezade deWinter"] | [member="Vidalu Na'an"] | [member="LE-03 (Leigh)"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

A name was given – Kore. Sure, she could work with that, though Scherezade supposed the name she was given was as true as the one she had offered.

Peeking her head through the door, Scherezade looked left and right, but there were no guards that she could actually see. And come to think of it, she couldn't scent them either. The Sithling looked back at the room, the confusion clear over her face. The women who were still there – she could scent them. They were breathing. They were alive. But outside of the room…

"I have a bad feeling about this," she mumbled, looking at Kore, "so let's put things on the table. Something's wrong on this ship because I can't sense any guards. I'm a combatant, from the Confederacy. Do you have any skills that could be useful in danger, or am I leaving you here because apparently here is currently the safest this ship has to offer?"

As she waited, Scherezade adjusted her dress. Fighting in a dress that required semi-regular breast space adjustment was going to be... Challenging.

[member="Adelle Bastiel"] [member="Vidalu Na'an"] [member="LE-03 (Leigh)"]

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

"I have a bad feeling about this," she mumbled, looking at Kore, "so let's put things on the table. Something's wrong on this ship because I can't sense any guards. I'm a combatant, from the Confederacy. Do you have any skills that could be useful in danger, or am I leaving you here because apparently here is currently the safest this ship has to offer?"

While Feyre talked, Adelle rolled the stiffness out of her shoulders and neck. "Sense" could mean either the five senses or Force use; Adelle would have to remember that. Her own nose could only pick out the subtle patchouli scent of the hygiene items the other woman used, and a mixture of a metallic, flowery sort of smell. No scent of any other organic beings, and Adelle hadn't yet figured out how to distinguish between inanimate machines and droids.

"Former CorSec," she said. "Feel more comfortable with a weapon but I can make do."

They proceeded through the ship cautiously, Feyre taking point while Adelle watched their six. Based on the noise outside the bunk room they had been in, Adelle guessed they were aft of the ship. Most companies preferred putting the engines on the stern of the ship. As they crept to the fore, they still encountered nothing. Adelle tapped Feyre's shoulder as they began to pass the galley. She wanted to check something out.

Inside, the cabinets were stocked full of nutrient bars: thick, tasteless, and dry but full of every vitamin and calorie most organics needed. Every cabinet had them. A small fount had a potable filter attached to it, with a couple metal cups beside it. No organics on board but a galley stocked to feed an army of them.

"This place keeps getting weirder and weirder," she murmured.

Further exploration led them in a loop back to where they started. One turbolift in the center, two storage closets, and one other bunk room. No cockpit. No guards. Nothing.

"The hells kinda ship is this?"

[member="Scherezade deWinter"] | [member="LE-03 (Leigh)"] | [member="Vidalu Na'an"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

CorSec. Scherezade nodded. So the only other woman that had regained consciousness was thanks to the Force someone who wouldn't be an automatic liability. Only for a moment did she pause, looking backwards as she considered whether the other women were like the two of them – not necessarily Force users, but useful in combat? Was that the tie that connected all of them? There was no time to check. It was best if they stayed in the room for the time being, until she and Kore knew better.

Checking the cabinets out, there was nothing to keep Scherezade from opening one of the nutrient bars, giving them a sniff. There was no strange smell that she could detect, but she was limited with her 'regular' nose. The only thing she could assert was that there wasn't any sort of blood in the bars. She was tempted to take a bite; without any bantha jerky or some sort of meat, it was… Not a second best, but best she could get at present.

Walking around in a circle, Scherezade frowned. What the heck was going on?

"One we need to get creative with," she answered both herself and Kore, and walked back to the turbolift. Her spidy senses were tingling, so there was nothing that was blocking her from accessing the Force… Which meant…

The doors to the turbolift opened regardless of whether they wanted to or not. Scherezade peered down the shaft, and then up. "There has to be a hidden elevator or stairs or something," she commented, turning to look at Kore, "because there's no elevator in this shaft."

Sighing, she looked up and down again. "Which way are we going first?"

[member="Adelle Bastiel"] | [member="LE-03 (Leigh)"] | [member="Vidalu Na'an"]

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Both ways looked ominous. The emergency lighting for the lift barely illuminated anything either way. Adelle guessed the floor below them was about a two meter drop. Child's play with the Force, but Adelle didn't want to tip her hand unless it was absolutely necessary. Without the Force, a wrong landing would see an injury. Climbing up wasn't going to be any safer. Not to mention if they ran into guards. While they hadn't so far, this ship was being piloted somehow.

"Would that I had an ascension gun," she muttered. She turned to Feyre. "Shot in the dark, but I'm guessing the bridge is above us. We want info, that's where we go."



[member="Scherezade deWinter"] | [member="Vidalu Na'an"] | [member="LE-03 (Leigh)"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

"So we go up," Scherezade smiled and nodded.

For now, she was glad that at least she was wearing a very short dress. With how tight her dresses usually ran, anything longer would've been a hindrance while attempting the climb, and while there was no shame she had about her body, she didn't particularly enjoy the thought of needing to do this naked.

Yet instead of relying on the Force, Scherezade instead spun and clung to the inside of the elevator shaft, finding spots for her to latch onto with her hands and feet. It was going to be a wall climb. Without knowing what was up there, any step could lead them for example into a Force severing bubble.

Besides, maybe they were being watched. Doors flying open could be considered an anomaly, but if they saw her using the Force to fly, they would know what she was, and how dangerous that was to them.

And so they climbed. Every two to three meters, Scherezade would start climbing sideways instead of up, trying to find anything that hinted at an opening, a door, something she could move enough to get an opening into another level. But there was nothing. How big was the ship they were on, anyway?

"Any luck on your side, Kore?" she asked her partner in crime as she renewed the climb up, her patience beginning to thin.

[member="Adelle Bastiel"] [member="Vidalu Na'an"] [member="LE-03 (Leigh)"]

 

[Vidalu Na'an]

They took off immediately--not without some protest from the dock manager, naturally, but that was irrelevant. Na'an hadn't even bothered negotiating with the man, sending Leigh ahead to start departure procedures while she doled out the remainder of the fee for the week. Something in her eye must have put him off the idea of squeezing them for more credits, too; he let Na'an go without much discussion, looking rather pale, and the ship was up and leaving the atmosphere in only minutes.

As she made her way through the belly of the ship towards her quarters, Na'an found herself dwelling on what little they knew about the situation.

Slavers, with a focus on high-class targets and women.

She'd left her jacket behind when going to the bar; Na'an forced her arms roughly into the sleeves, almost catching her fingers on the inner zipper that masked her comlink.

Systemic drugging.

Her current firearm of choice--a cheap E-11 BlasTech Standard Imperial Rifle--was leaning against her cot, gleaming in the fluorescent light. Na'an picked it up, feeling her way down the recently-cleaned barrel, checking for any flaws she might have missed the night before. Satisfied, she flipped up the back of her jacket, clicking it into the magnetic strap nestled into the small of her back.

Coordinates leading to the upper-class sectors in Coruscant.

​Her shoto was in its customary place, under the pile of blankets that served as her pillow. Na'an fished it out and picked it up, her eye sliding closed momentarily as she felt for the pulse of the Dantari crystal hidden inside. She hadn't used its store of energy more than twice since its creation; it fluttered against her fingertips like the heartbeat of some small animal.

Barsabbas.

Na'an left her quarters and headed for the cockpit, still dwelling on the name.

Barsabbas. Barsabbas. Barsabbas had taken Doc, and gods knew how many others--ripped them out of their lives, robbed them of their choices, sent them spinning across space for Whoever he was, whatever happened to her, he'd made the call.

Barsabbas.

The skin under her eyepatch itched unbearably. Na'an pulled the strap loose around her neck as she entered the cockpit, rubbing at the socket furiously, blinking until the prosthetic underneath adjusted to the sudden influx of light.

"Tell me we have an ETA," she said to the droid in the pilot's seat as the eye's visual array came into sharp focus. "A ship ID would work too."

[member="Adelle Bastiel"] [member="Scherezade deWinter"] [member="LE-03 (Leigh)"]

 

[LE-03 (Leigh)]

"I have already located the ship ID and calculated the most likely hyperspace trajectory to avoid Core authorities. We should be on route to intercept just outside of Coruscant system space."

Leigh's mind was, as it had always been, considerably faster than that of her human partner. While Na'an was on her way up to the cockpit, the droid had used her passive Holonet connection to muscle her way into the dock manager's private records. Apparently, a local transporter had left early this morning, its destination set for a MOD-17 cargo freighter waiting in orbit. The pilot had paid in cash for premature departure clearance...an amount far larger, in fact, than he had bothered to collect from the two of them.

The probability that the payment was a bribe--incentive for the dock manager to inspect their cargo less carefully, perhaps--was high enough to encourage Leigh to investigate further.

The ship was registered to a B. Howell, who was listed as a Balosar fuel trader based out of Corellia. However, Naboo manifest records commonly cited him as frequenting this dock several times a year, always staying for no more than a week, then leaving immediately for either Coruscant or a series of planets in Hutt space. His ID had not been registered in Corellian ports in almost three years, the last remaining record indicating that he and his crew had been blacklisted by the Corellian Federation for violating their Trade and Labor Ethics laws.

The probability that B. Howell was the man known as Barsabbas was rapidly approaching 100 percent.

Although it helped that dock surveillance records indicated that the transport had left with two more passengers than had arrived on it. Two more passengers, both of them female.

The mind of Life Emulator model LE-03 may operate much faster than that of her human partner, but their thoughts did have one thing in common. In the remaining two minutes between reaching this conclusion and Vidalu Na'an arriving in the cockpit, the droid had calibrated the freighter's shielding, examined online schematics of the MOD-17 for manual breach points, and adjusted the power draw of her arm cannon to maximum. When Na'an walked through the door, visibly bristling and both eyes bare, Leigh found herself in complete and utter agreement.

"We will have to approach carefully," she still forced herself to say. "A freighter of this size is commonly in possession of a crew of up to fifty beings. There may also be a large number of hostages on board besides Miss Bastiel."

She rapidly recycled her holographic subroutines, switching out her default human face for the time being. Psychological attacks, after all, had proved quite effective in the bar.

"This may take some time. I would recommend against using Babylon."

[member="Adelle Bastiel"] [member="Scherezade deWinter"] [member="Vidalu Na'an"]

 

[Vidalu Na'an]

"No Babylon. Got it."

The affirmation came out sharper than Na'an intended. She forced herself to take a breath, closing both of her eyes before leaning over Leigh's shoulder to read the pilot's console.

"Leigh, I don't think I'm going to be able to be careful like you want," she said, resting her cheek momentarily against the droid's warm dome. "I've been running hot since Parallax. This Barsabbas guy..."

She took another deep breath; her exhale clouded the surface of the dome, leaving the reflection of her face a hazy ghost. Only the steady white light of her prosthetic was clearly visible. "I'm pretty sure I'm going to kill him once I see him."

[member="Adelle Bastiel"] [member="Scherezade deWinter"] [member="LE-03 (Leigh)"]

 

[LE-03 (Leigh)]

Leigh had not expected the human to confess that so boldly. She performed a quick settings change, and once again her freckled human face peered out from inside her dome, her eyebrows knit together in concern. "I understand your frustration. The possibility of what Miss Bastiel might be going through at this moment--"

Something in her vocal processors seemed to hiccup; the droid quickly re-cycled the program, and started again.

"You know I am capable of planning an attack that accounts for your talents," she continued. "And I trust your ability to discern friend from foe. I merely wish to be clear. When you say you are prepared to kill this Barsabbas and his men, are you asking me for permission? Or telling me I should act on our promise, should you do so?"

[member="Vidalu Na'an"] [member="Adelle Bastiel"] [member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Vidalu Na'an]

Na'an didn't answer right away. "Neither. Both. I don't know."

She looked ahead of them, into the star-streaked tunnel of hyperspace, feeling something hard and cold form in the pit of her stomach. "All I know is that they don't get to just walk away from hurting her," she continued. "So...guess I'll have to trust you to decide what that means, huh?"

One of her hands reached up to steady herself against the droid's shoulder. The other hung at her side, still clenching the shoto.