Let It Fall

[Ugoto Chivaro]

FORT AMARANTH

The sound of his door hissing open was among the least favorite sounds Derrenger could hear. It meant someone was coming to bother him. Derrenger did not like to be bothered while he was cleaning his bowcaster. The cleaning of the bowcaster had a ritual significance to him, considering Derrenger had plucked it from the still warm corpse of his arch-nemesis some three years ago after slaughtering him and the rest of his miserable clan. It had been their ancestral weapon and Derrenger's use of it was a final spit in the face of his hated enemies.

Now that his vengeance quest was completed, Derrenger was back to bounty hunting. The Trandoshan glanced up at the door, and was even more aggrieved to see that the Sakiyan, Grigori, was the one standing there. A low rumble erupted from his throat, more like a growl, as his reptilian eyes flickered over Grigori before returning to his work. "What do you want?"

"Comrade Eugene has gone missing." Grigori announced. "We are the ones being pulled to go find him."

Derrenger's hand tightened over the barrel of his bowcaster. "I usually work alone."

"Not this time. Boss-comrade Maley-gaunt has told me to fetch and accompany you in most earnest fashion."

Whenever Maleagant or the Helix Syndicate needed someone found quickly and brought back alive, they sent Derrenger. Or if they needed someone, or a group of someones, dead and didn't particularly care how it got done. When they needed someone's throat cut, or just roughed up a little, they sent Grigori. But that usually meant they knew where the target was at first. Had Eugene gone rogue? Maleagant needed one person to sniff him out and the other to off him all delicately? It seemed unlikely. Checkered past or not, Eugene was higher up in the food chain than both Derrenger and Grigori. Didn't make economic sense to do so.

Derrenger huffed, standing up and slipping the strap of his bowcaster over one shoulder. "When do we leave?"

"The sooner, I am told, the better."

That meant now.

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

KYRIKAL 5 - SPACEPORT COMPLEX - LANDING PAD

"Ah, what a lovely planet. You know, I am told this is where boss-Comrade Maleagant met and arranged an accord with..."

As they descended the loading ramp, Grigori was already blabbing up a storm. Derrenger hated talking almost as much as he hated listening to other people talk. It threw off his focus, but not this time. He got a feeling in his gut that caused him to stop dead on the tarmac, although that was not the only reason he wanted Grigori to stop talking. He held up one clawed hand. "Shut up." He said, slit eyes glancing around the landing pad. Visible at another adjacent landing pad was a Dupre-Class Shuttle. Such vessels were only used by the Helix Syndicate. Eugene's shuttle was still docked here. "Look." Derrenger ordered and Grigori swiveled his head on command.

Before Grigori could say anything, one of the spaceport administrators approached, datapad in hand. The administrator was dressed remarkably casual and his hair was long and unkempt. A scraggly beard framed his face and he smelled mildly of one of those non-addictive, relaxant narcotics so popular among his sort of liberal ilk.

"Salutations, bruhs." Said the administrator. "How long'll you-"

"That ship. The black one." Derrenger jerked his head in the direction of Eugene's shuttle. "How long has it been here?"

"Bruh..." Said the administrator, compliantly scrolling through his datapad to check. "Five days."

Eugene had arrived here five days ago and had been considered missing after failing to report it at any point in those five days. It had not been discussed what sort of business Eugene had been on, though it probably had something to do with Lord Fa. If Eugene had really wanted to vanish he would have taken the ship. There were no tracking devices. Even without a traditional stygium device, Dupre-Class Shuttles were hard to detect and keep track of.

"The dude's overdude- aheheheh, I mean, overdue on his payment. We were gonna have it towed tomorrow, bruh."

Derrenger did his best to ignore the administrator's chuckle at his own speech detour. If only so he did not immediately lash out and punch him in the throat, as every instinct was screaming for him to do. "Don't. We'll cover their fees and ours."

"How long're you stayin' for, bruh?"

"Shouldn't be long. Just for the day." Derrenger replied. And if the people on this bloody planet were just like this guy, Derrenger sincerely hoped this would be true.

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

KYRIKAL 5 - SPACEPORT COMPLEX - INTERIOR

After paying the additional fees with Grigori’s company card, the two lieutenants entered the spaceport proper. At the moment they entered, it was not as busy as it could have been. Throngs of people, largely tourists, moved through the spaceport at leisurely, meandering paces. The peak time for this spaceport wasn’t for another couple hours. That was good, Grigori did not like large crowds. They could hopefully find Eugene and be gone before it got really cramped in here.

Derrenger informed him of a few possibilities. The first (and most likely, the Trandoshan said) was that Eugene had been killed and his rotting corpse was stinking up someplace no one could find it. Second was that he had been kidnapped and taken elsewhere. Third was that he had been kidnapped and was hidden in the spaceport. Fourth was that he had been killed and his corpse either absconded with or disintegrated. You always had to go into these kind of investigations with the worst case scenario at least in the back of your mind. That way it wasn’t too much of a shock when it came true.

And it really was the worst case that they would find no trace of Eugene and the trail would go cold. Derrenger was eager to remind Grigori of this, because he considered Grigori something of an idiot, an incompetent. But Derrenger could not be in two places at once. Besides, if Maleagant had hired Grigori, he must have been good for something. If not, well…

“I’m going to find Eugene’s room.” Derrenger said to his companion. Attached to the spaceport was a motel, one which he knew Eugene had checked into. It was probably the most likely place to find his corpse, or at least an indication of where his corpse was. “You go to the bar.”

Grigori looked flustered. “What, what? I am here to be helping you, comrade Derenge. I insist I am to be accompanying you for investigation.”

“I’m not sending you to the bar to drink. You go there and ask if anyone’s seen Eugene.” Derrenger replied. His only acknowledgement that his name had been mispronounced was his clenched jaw. If you have never seen a Trandoshan with a clenched jaw, it is not a pretty sight. Derrenger looked ready to spit acid.

Naturally, Grigori paid no notice. He rubbed his chin for a second, then nodded in the affirmative. “Very well. I shall go to the bar. I shall be contacting you when I am finding something, yes?”

“Yeah, me too.” Derrenger said, but the moment Grigori had agreed he had already been walking away.

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

KYRIKAL 5 - SPACEPORT COMPLEX - HOTEL

Derrenger bypassed the front desk and went straight to the room he knew the Syndicate had rented here for Eugene. While most looked at Derrenger and saw nothing but a brute, he was actually quite clever when he wanted to be. He could think of a million ways to delicately pick his way through the lock on the door. But he didn’t feel like being clever, so he merely looked both ways down the hallway to make sure no one was watching (cameras or otherwise) and gave it a mighty kick.

The door was flung open with a loud crash. Derrenger lingered a few seconds. When no one came running, he entered the room and delicately closed the door behind him.

Immediately, Derrenger smelled something pungent. Sweat and… Other bodily fluid. He would not go into detail, because mammals grossed him out, but it was… Eugh. The room itself was also something of a mess aside from the smell. The bed sheets had not been made and various articles of Eugene’s clothing had been flung across the room with reckless abandon. Derrenger walked another few steps into the room and noticed bite marks on one of the pillow, ostensibly human or humanoid. Yuck.

There was nothing amiss with the bathroom and a cursory inspection of the closet revealed that the rest of Eugene’s luggage, aside from the clothes that were on the floor, was still present. Wherever Eugene was, he was naked. Wonderful. Derrenger inspected the mini-fridge as well. Everything alcoholic had been removed, as Derrenger then noted with the empty miniature bottles stacked up in the corner. There was a larger wine bottle and some empty glasses as well, so Eugene must have ordered something extra for his little… Roommate.

Derrenger was about to give up and go find Grigori when he saw something else. A keycard, used to get into your room at this hotel. He picked it up from where it was, right next to the front door and close enough that he missed it when he first walked in. Derrenger might have even stepped on it. This keycard wasn’t for Eugene’s room. If Derrenger was reading it right (and he rarely read things wrong, this one), it was a couple floors up. Derrenger bared his teeth, though it was unclear whether this was a snarl of disgust or a smile of satisfaction.

Maybe both.

He slid the keycard into his breast pocket and exited Eugene’s room. Time to pay his lover a visit.

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

KYRIKAL 5 - SPACEPORT COMPLEX - BAR

As one could expect, the bar was quite deserted at this time of day. There were only a few small groups of day drinkers hanging around in scattered clumps, chatting idly among themselves. A rather attractive Echani woman sat in the back by herself and leered at Grigori as he came in. Grigori could tell she was a lot stronger than she looked. He had a hunch. Unfortunately, his heart belonged to another, so he ignored her. Grigori could not repress the shiver that ran through him at that moment, though.

Something about her smelled of bad intent. Women, right?

The bar was tended by a droid, likely so it could remain open twenty-four hours. Grigori seated himself on a stool at the bar and waited. Eventually the droid, one of those Hegemonic Automaton models, the skinny ones, found its way over to him. “What can I get for you?”

“Just the water, yes.”

The droid obliged, pouring him a small glass of cold water and handing it to Grigori. Grigori may have been a criminal, an assassin, but he did not drink before six ‘o clock PM. Just because he frequently tracked down and murdered people as a living was no excuse to break every other social norm that existed. “Excusing me first, comrade,” Grigori abruptly said when the droid went to move away. When the droid hesitated and remained, he retrieved a small datapad from his pocket and showed the droid. “Have you been seeing this man recently?”

It took a few seconds for the droid to both parse Grigori’s peculiar speech quirks and consult its memory banks. When it finally did, it answered honestly. “He was here a few nights ago. He consumed three beverages and then departed with an Echani woman.”

Grigori swallowed hard, returning the datapad to its pocket. “That one sitting in the back?”

Much to Grigori’s chagrin, the droid looked up and focused its photoreceptors on her for a painful few seconds. Grigori sincerely hoped she did not notice. When the droid eventually returned its attention to Grigori, it answered flatly. “No. She’s different. But she looks very similar.”

What, were they related, or did Echani in this stretch of space all look the same? Grigori supposed it didn’t matter.

“Did she buy drinks?” Grigori asked. If the droid had any account information on her…

“No.” It said, sounding very firm. “Your friend paid for them all.”

Curse Eugene and his gentlemanly habits! Grigori sighed, preparing to leave. “Alright, well, I am thanking yo-”

The stool next to him screeched as it was pulled out… By the Echani woman he had earlier sighted. “Hello there.” She was radiant, snow-white hair falling just to her shoulders. Ice-blue eyes shone with intelligence and… Mischief.

Grigori made a strange sound that was somewhere between a startled whuff and nervous yelp. He clumsily removed himself from his stood and walked briskly for the exit, commlink pressed to his ear as he called for Derrenger.

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

KYRIKAL 5 - SPACEPORT COMPLEX - HOTEL MANAGER’S OFFICE

An annoying buzzing filled the hotel manager’s office. “One sec,” Derrenger said, fishing around in his oversized pocket for his commlink. Eventually he snagged it, pressed a button, and held it to his ear. “What?”

“Yes, hello, it is Grigori.”

“I know. What is it?”

“I am having discovered,” Grigori paused mid-sentence, as if he were looking over his shoulder or something. “That our friend Eugene had many drinks with-”

“Let me guess. An Echani woman?”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. “How did you-”

“I found her hotel room,” Derrenger said flatly. “Did some digging on my own, asked a few questions.”

The spindly, nervous hotel manager was a Bardottan. He flinched sharply and gave a pathetic whimper when Derrenger gave him a slap on the back. It was easy to bully these sorts of people as a Trandoshan. Derrenger’s species had a natural, accurate reputation for ferocity and violence. No one was eager to get on his bad side. So when Derrenger kindly requested to see the manager over some very important matters, no one on this spineless planet had the gall to stop him.

There had also been no complaining when the topic abruptly changed from the room quality to one room in particular, and the demand that all relevant information on its tenant be brought up and put on a datachip.

Grigori laughed nervously. “You are quite, ah, resourceful. Very much.”

“Did I tell you to stop?” Derrenger said to the Bardottan when it slowed in its duties. Then he resumed talking to Grigori once again. “Go meet me by the entrance we came through. Gonna talk to the spaceport admin again.”

“Yes, yes, very good. See you then.”

Derrenger was far from reluctant to hang up. He dropped the commlink back into his pocket and snagged the datachip from the manager, as well as the folder containing the flimsiplast printout. They were going to need a hard copy to show the admin. “Thanks.” Derrenger said. The Bardottan did not respond, instead keeping his eyes fixed down at his terminal’s keyboard until the Trandoshan left.

A racist had been born.

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

KYRIKAL 5 - SPACEPORT COMPLEX - SPACEPORT ADMIN’S OFFICE

After stopping by their ship to transmit the data back to the Helix Syndicate, Grigori and Derrenger entered the spaceport admin’s office. Derrenger was immediately horrified to see that the administrator recognized them. Although how the administrator could see anything in the hazy, smoke-filled office was beyond the Trandoshan. It looked less like an office and more like an unsavory spiritualist den. Scented candles lined the walls, various chic effigies sat on windosills. Dream catchers, faux-healing crystals...

Derrenger was disgusted. Grigori was awed.

“Bruuuuuuuhhhhhs.” The administrator slurred, presumably by way of greeting. “What’s up? What can I do?”

Grigori moved away from Derrenger, intent on examining the effigies. It was calling to him. This left Derrenger to talk to the admin, a task that reminded him that there were fates far worse than death. The Trandoshan slid the file across the desk, which the admin promptly picked up and opened. “I need all the details you have on Arili Un-Haku. Echani woman. Might have docked here recently.”

Derrenger was alarmed to see that the admin had opened the folder upside-down but was still reading it as if he read anything else. In a corner of the office, Grigori was examining the same fetish. It was an unrecognizable alien. Humanoid. Arms were uplifted as it prepared to strike down at something - or someone - but there was nothing in its cupped hands. Something had been broken off. When Grigori looked at it, thunder filled his ears.

The admin put the folder down, swiveling around to his terminal, typing away. “Let’s seeeeeee here...”

He was remarkably forthcoming with this information.

“Ah! Here we go. Un-Haku, Arili. Jermaguim-class Light Freighter, callsign Anthemoessa. Registered to the Kelsier system.” The administrator smiled broadly, exposing… Unexpectedly immaculate teeth. Clearly he was happy to help. “Want a printout, bruh?”

“That’d be fine.” Derrenger said, turning his head to check on Grigori. The Sakyian was on his knees, staring intently at the fetish. Derrenger narrowed his eyes. “Grigori?”

Grigori snapped back to reality and looked mightily uncomfortable. “Yes! Hello. How is things? All are good?”

A sheet of flimsiplast ejected itself from the administrator’s printer, which he handed off to Derenger. “Yeah. We’re leaving.” He sneered, rudely bumping into Grigori as he made his exit. “Try to stay focused.”

“Yes, of coursing, of coursing.” Grigori muttered, filing out after him.

“Safe travels, my dudes!” The admin called as the door slid shut behind them.

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

KELSIER - OUTSIDE KODLEDORR

They received a timely response from Fort Amaranth during their flight over. Arili Un-Haku was a wealthy, retired merchant queen. Officially. There were rumors that she had engaged more in piracy than any legitimate trade. The deluge of intelligence dug up by the Syndicate seemed to suggest those rumors were more than correct. Un-Haku was aging, however. Probably as old as the Bendu at this point. So while the freighter that had been docked was registered in her name and the hotel room had been paid for by her, it was more than likely she had someone else doing her dirty work.

Like that woman Grigori saw in the bar.

Grigori explained his hunch about Un-Haku acting through proxy without mentioning the woman in the bar. Too embarrassing. While it was true that he only had eyes for Anastasia Kalashnikov, only a fool could assume he had never been tempted. Tempted, yes. Give in? Never. One day…

Derrenger, of course, already knew this. And when Grigori asked how, he responded curtly. “Eugene wouldn’t shag an old bat.”

The stereotypical Trandoshan love of poetic speech was well reflected in Derrenger.

Thanks to her ill-gotten pirate wealth, Un-Haku lived in a large mansion named Kodledorr. Neither of the investigators knew what that word was supposed to mean. At one point Grigori asked one of the locals, pretending to be a tourist with a love of architecture. It was difficult to tell whether the Echani believed him, as they regarded both him and his Trandoshan traveling companion with an intense amount of disgust; they didn’t even answer the question.

They were able to find Kodledorr anyway. It overlooked a wide street and was surrounded by similarly sized mansions. Frozen wasteland that Kelsier was, there wasn’t much room for anything else in these domed cities. The mansions were probably pushing it as it was. From the inside of their rented landspeeder, Grigori and Derrenger observed the towering building and the assortment of guards hanging around outside.

“I am thinking we are not being able to go through the front.”

“Yeah,” Derrenger said without very much commitment. “Could if we wanted to, though.”

While, yes, they could have certainly gunned everyone down and incited a riot to get inside… Alternate tactics would be better. Derrenger knew this, of course, he just felt like messing with Grigori. The Trandoshan immediately regretted that it worked, as Grigori then launched into a poorly formatted tirade. Derrenger felt himself dying on the inside as he listened to Grigori’s poorly-worded, obnoxiously accented rant.

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

KELSIER - INSIDE KODLEDORR

For a former pirate queen, Un-Haku was surprisingly oblivious to her own security’s shortcomings. An abandoned maintenance shaft ran right next to the basement level of her mansion. Once Derrenger and Grigori found a way into that, the next step was to smuggle a laser drill onto the surface and cut their way in. The molten duracrete was still flowing around the hole they had cut when Derrenger and Grigori entered the basement.

There were a lot of wine racks. Grigori reached out to take one…

“Don’t touch anything,” Derrenger hissed behind his facemask. Only the lower half of his face was covered, even though everyone was sure he was the only Trandoshan to visit this planet in the last ten years. “Stay focused.”

Grigori retracted his hand and nodded eagerly. He slunk through the basement, following Derrenger closely. They made their way up the stairs and around the first floor as quietly as possible. Grigori was somewhat silent, though Derrenger failed entirely. They would have both counted themselves lucky that there were no guards inside of the mansion, but they did not know that. So they continued floor by floor, the clumsy pair of mercenaries as they inevitably drew closer to…

“Whoa.”

On the second floor, one of the fixtures in the hallway included a gigantic, jet-black pirate banner hung at the end of the hallway. Underneath it were a pair of crossed blades. One was a cutlass, probably a vibroweapon of some kind. The other looked more like a dueling blade.. There was an entryway table underneath it, decorated with an assortment of hologram fixtures, statuettes, that sort of thing. While Derrenger was creeping down the other end of the hallway, Grigori was being drawn towards the dresser. A strange figurine was present.

Some sort of humanoid, but the longer Grigori looked at it the less he was sure what species it was. It looked poised to strike down at something, but there was nothing in its cupped hands. Something had been… Broken off. There was a noise in his ear-

“Derrenger!”

Grigori whirled around at the sound of a voice that was neither his nor- oh, it was Eugene. Derrenger found his room. The Trandoshan was standing now, facing the durasteel door Eugene was locked behind. There was a small slit at eye level for Eugene to look through and, apparently, communicate through. Grigori quickly joined his Trandoshan friend, hoping his absence had gone unnoticed.

There was no seeing most of Eugene, but judging from the bags under his eyes his stay here hadn’t been… Restful. “You’ve got to get me out of here. Now.” Eugene said, urgently. “How did you get in here? They could be back any moment?”

Derrenger grabbed Grigori by the scruff and shoved him towards the door terminal, expecting him to slice it. He wanted to talk to Eugene first. “What happened, Eugene?”

Eugene hit the door with a hand. “I got fooled is what! Thought I had something special, turns out she just sold me like a concubine!”

Grigori guffawed. Derrenger shot him a look. Mammals were so gross. Derrenger looked unsympathetic when he asked, “You came willingly?”

“Willingly,” Grigori said, “And multiple times, I am very sure.”

Although only his eyes were visible, it was still apparent the former Mandalorian was flushed with anger. Derrenger swatted Grigori in the back of the head and said something deriding in Dosh. “Maybe I got a little sidetracked from what I was doing, sure,” Eugene said heatedly. “But when I showed up here, I didn’t think they’d lock me in! Or try to set me up with… You know, the old-”

“Arili Un-Haku.”

The sound of a sword being drawn from a scabbard drew all eyes towards the end of the hallway. Arili might have been in her late fifties or early sixties, but standing only a few feet away with the dueling blade pointed at the witless trio she was a sight to behold. A long scar marred the left side of her wrinkled face, cutting through one eye, although it seemed undamaged. A cybernetic replacement, perhaps. Un-Haku was the type of person who would drop that sort of money. Grigori immediately noted that her aging had not been a graceful one. Either piracy took its toll on a person’s appearance or maybe she had never been pretty in the first place. It would explain hiring people to fetch concubines for her…

Derrenger hissed and batted Grigori aside. “Hey!”

Without further explanation, Derrenger punched the control panel. The plasteel immediately caved under his weighty fist and the damaged electronics sparked wildly. The door to Eugene’s posh, pillow-filled room slid open without delay. Derrenger was hit with the same musk he had detected earlier at the spaceport. Gross. Eugene was also wearing nothing but a bathrobe and some fuzzy slippers. How charming. Arili, however, wasted no time after seeing her favorite concubine sprung loose. She gave her trademark battle cry (a convincing imitation of a TIE/LN starfighter giving birth), and leapt at the trio.

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

KELSIER - INSIDE KODLEDORR

“Watch out!” Eugene yelled. Old age had certainly done little to affect the speed with which Arili Un-Haku could move. In the blink of an eye the space between Trandoshan and Echani was closed. Durasteel flashed through the air and Derrenger narrowly avoided having the tip of his snout cut off by yanking his head back in the nick of time.

He was very thankful Eugene had reminded him to watch out. Otherwise, he clearly would have ignored the crazed pirate queen currently trying to cut him to pieces. Derrenger retreated backwards a couple paces, trying to get his bowcaster off of his back. The bulky weapon had hardly done them any favors when trying to sneak around. Hopefully it would be of more service now.

Grigori attempted to approach, having whipped out his favored vibro-dagger, only to duck when Un-Haku abruptly turned from Derrenger to slash at his neck. Keen senses on this one. Very admirable. Nowhere near as keen as Anastasia Kalashnikov, of course, whose brown, bloodshot eyes…

The momentary distraction allowed Derrenger to get the bowcaster off his back. Grigori attempted to rise after ducking, only to find Un-Haku’s foot waiting for him. She kicked him square under the chin, sending the Sakiyan reeling into another entryway table. In another flash of movement, she was facing Derrenger again, swatting his bowcaster with her blade and knocking it off target. The bolt he fired off flew just over her shoulder, impacting the pirate flag. There was the smell of burning fabric.

Un-Haku attempted to hack at Derrenger again, but he was blocking each of her jabs with his favorite weapon. If he weren’t in the midst of combat bloodrage, he might have mourned for all the damage this was doing to his weapon. Or noticed that the pirate flag had now started to smoulder and would soon burst into flames. That was the problem with energy weapons.

Eugene reentered the picture. It was rare to find him without a weapon and even rarer to find him in bathrobes and fuzzy slippers, but there he was. The overseer was not a man prone to combat improvisation, so he temporarily retreated into his room to find something he could feasibly hit Un-Haku with. All he found was a glass vase, which he promptly emptied of its contents. When he emerged, they were now farther down the hallway than originally. Derrenger was losing a lot of ground. Grigori was still dazed, muttering something about a gladiator-woman he fancied.

“Hey, you crazy queen!” Eugene yelled.

Locked in combat with Derrenger, she did not hear him. Arili Un-Haku was not an amateur. Eugene didn’t care whether or not she looked, as calling her a crazy queen was mostly for catharsis. He flung the vase at her, only for her to weave out of the way. Keen senses. The vase smashed into Derrenger’s face, however, shattering and sending glass fragments everywhere. The bowcaster clattered to the floor as the Trandoshan instinctively covered his eyes, howling in pain. Un-Haku took the opportunity while Eugene gawked helplessly at the end of the hallway, lancing Derrenger through the shoulder.

The blade sunk through, which was normally enough to foil her usually quarry. But Arili Un-Haku had never fought a Trandoshan. More importantly, she never fought Derrenger. The mercenary roared his annoyance, large hand coming down off his face to take hold of Un-Haku’s blade. She attempted to yank it free, but the weapon would not give way. Squinting through the glass fragments, Derrenger pulled back his other hand and punched Un-Haku square in the face.

It was quite memorable, the speed with which one could go from standing to on their back. Arili Un-Haku could no longer take a punch like she used to. Especially from a Trandoshan. Blood dribbled out of her broken nose, her head lolling about dazedly as she lay on the floor. Her sword was still sticking out of Derrenger when the Trandoshan lumbered forward, stepping over her, eyes locked on Eugene.

Eugene swallowed. “I, uh-”

Eugene was wanted back alive, so Derrenger refrained from what he actually wanted to do. Instead he punched Eugene in the gut, winding him. Eugene made a sound resembling a whoopie cushion, fell to his knees, coughed for a few minutes, and then vomited. By the time he regained his bearings, Derrenger had yanked the sword out of his shoulder and recovered Grigori, holding the Sakiyan by the scruff of the neck as he eventually came to. “Get up. We’re leaving.”

“What,” said Grigori, “Is that smell?”

Derrenger hadn’t smelled the smoke until that moment. He was too focused on the blood, and that musk that wafted out when Eugene opened the door. He looked at the flag. It hadn’t burst into flames, but the smoke.
The smoke detector beeped urgently. Once, twice.

Then the fire alarm went off.

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

KELSIER - OUTSIDE KODLEDORR

“Put me down, I am being able to walk now!” Grigori shouted, a fist idling pound on Derrenger’s back. The Trandoshan had flung Grigori over his shoulder in the interests of saving time. Eugene was right behind them, still clad only in his bathrobe and slippers.

What a time to be alive.

An intense foot chase had followed once the trio burst out the front doors of Kodledorr. Originally they had been planning to come back the way they came, but once guards started swarming the residence, options were relatively thin on the ground. They left out the front door pursued by the guards and an endless storm of blaster bolts. They had to circle through several alleyways and streets just to get back to the speeder truck… And by then local law enforcement had gotten involved.

Un-Haku was a respected member of the community and the Echani detested foreigners. They were not likely to believe their claims of having to rescue Eugene from an abductress. Un-Haku had too much clout. The only option was to run, or in this case, speed away. But eventually they crashed it in a confrontation with police. Derrenger had a stringent policy about murder. It typically went, if someone tried it on him - he would have to try it on them. A lot of police officers died at the end of a bowcaster and Derrenger piled his two less-useful companions into one of their speeders before taking off towards the spaceport.

Grigori panted, reloading a blaster pistol he had taken from a dead officer. “Now what are we going to be doing?”

“The spaceport,” Derrenger hissed, whirling the steering wheel so he could swerve around some lazy motorists. Traffic only came at the worst times. “We need to leave the system.”

“I don’t think they will be letting us take our shuttle.”

Eugene tightened the drawstrings on his bathrobe. The last thing he wanted was to add indecent exposure to his rap sheet on Kelsier. “I don’t think that’s what he had in mind.”

In the rearview mirror, Grigori could just make out Derrenger’s toothy smirk. Or maybe it was a grimace. Hard to tell.

---

KELSIER - SPACEPORT - BAY 13

Takoda Smith slapped his business partner on the back. Nigel recoiled at the touch, but let Smith blabber on without comment.“Allllllright, pally. We’re allllll loaded up. Alllll the stygium crystals you and your little mates back on… Where was it you were from?”

If looks could kill, Takoda Smith would have imploded on the spot. Sadly, Takoda was unaware of this. He had been born blind. “It is unimportant.” Nigel Zhao said. He sounded, pleasant… But in a forced, flat way. If Smith could only see his eyes or forced expression, it might have been more clear. Nigel Zhao adjusted his tie, then placed his hands behind his back. “You will have your money. Then we must never speak again.”

Takoda nodded eagerly, looking in the wrong direction and apparently not hearing Zhao’s last request. “You bet, you bet. Now, just...” He patted his person for a moment, finding where he kept his datapad. He handed it off to Zhao. “Sign here, here, and allllll over here.”

It was amazing an oaf like Takoda could have any part in one of Kelsier’s larger stygium mining operations. Yet he did. That was nepotism for you. Incompetent fools being put in charge of deals. Normally Zhao’s Order would have been insulted that the firm on Kelsier sent someone as simpering and useless as Takoda, but the stygium was more important to them. If they took the time to avenge every imagined slight, they would be at it for the rest of their lives. It also left less time to deal with the big slights, the intentional slights.

Nigel would never forget that incident on Endor. He hadn’t even been there for it, but he heard about it: what those neophytes had been ordered to do to that man. His wife. His family. Her family. All in the name of an insult those people had made to the Order of the Unopened Eye. Their mission was sacred, and anyone who dared to interfere-

A deafening explosion rocked the hangar bay, staggering Zhao and sending Smith to his feet. “What- what was that?” The blast doors of the hangar rumbled open, smoke billowing in from the inside of the spaceport. An Atrisian man, wearing a bathrobe and… Slippers… Wandered into the hangar bay, coughing into his elbow. “I found a ship!”

Soon another two stumbled into the arena, a few wayward blaster bolts missing them. A Trandoshan and a Sakiyan were firing erratically into smoke, attempting to drive back their attackers. “Then get on it!”

What.

Smith was fumbling around on his hands and knees. “What- who said that? What’s going on?”

Eugene ran for the ship, but Nigel Zhao moved faster. No one was taking his ship. To allow these fools passage would be a disgrace to the Order, and to allow it to be taken would be great dishonor. “You are-”

Nigel never finished, because Eugene had punched him in the throat. Zhao found himself on his knees, hands clutching his own throat. Choking. His eyes watered immediately. Derrenger and Grigori sprinted past him shortly before Zhao lost his balance and tipped over, still choking, smearing his face into the duracrete. Takoda Smith had taken cover behind some empty crate, occasionally screaming questions in the open air.

A blast of hot air hit swept over Nigel’s prone, writhing, coughing form. He could hear the engines of the ship - his ship - roaring to life as the loading ramp retracted. Spaceport Security and Echani riot police stormed into the hangarbay, firing into the ship’s engines. It was no use. Their weapons were not strong enough. The ship shot away, taking with it a large cache of stygium crystals, the honor of Nigel Zhao, and the fugitives. His eyes were still watering from the choking. All Zhao could now do was let a few thin, rivers of tears fall down his cheek.

As the ship receded into the distance, a new sound reached Zhao’s ears.

The sound of the credits rolling.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CMOOVUhxXcg​