First Reply The Hanging Tree

[Nej Tane]

Lasan, Wild Space
Frontier Mining Property 46 "Rivertown", Vulptex Corporate Holdings


​

The settlement didn't bother with a proper name. It had probably been branded once, stamped with something optimistic like Prospect or Horizon's End, before reality hit the ambition out of it. Now it was just Rivertown, a duracrete smudge at the edge of Lasan's emptiness and lawlessness. Emptiness wasn't exactly Nej's style, but lawlessness was.

But this place, Rivertown- a stop on his long journey across the galaxy to find it, was lawless in the worst way: law had replaced by corporate security. It was a frontier mining property, a collective of various mining groups. Out here in Wild Space, there was no regulation for hours, wages, healthcare- all that pesky stuff that got in the way of business. Union boys and contracts. That's it. For the most part, lucrative and prosperous. Less taxes, more profit, less regulation, less inspections. Just work, mining at the most efficient and the most lucrative.

Unfortunately, that also meant the other end of that pesky bell curve-

Corporate greed cranked up with no oversight.

Rivertown- named for the single solitary river running through it, was one such instance. But it wasn't Nej's business. It was a stop, he was going to be here for a few hours at best. Refresh, refit, get some supplies and move on. His speeder came crackling to a slow crawl at the edge of town, dust stopping behind him as he let off the throttle. Long-range supply packs and netting hung on the outside of his speeder. The sun beat down on him, the mid-day heat of Lasan's drier biome getting to him.

Rivertown was a stop, a brief moment in Nej's long travel here on Lasan. He leaned back in his seat, approaching one of the many fueling stations. He parked his speeder, but decided that refitting and refueling could wait until after he got a drink. Water, first, then everything after. The cantina was closed until after shifts were done. He presumed it was like most mining towns- the bars and cantinas were staffed by miners themselves.

He poked into a storefront run by the company. Not Czerka. Lots of labels with something else- a red wolf of some kind. He had no idea, and didn't care to know. He took a deep breath, approaching the counter as his helmet faded back behind his neck, and he had to pull his hat to make sure it didn't get caught up in it. Nej wasn't here to do anything other than buy water.

"Got a water card?" The cashier asked gruffly.

Nej frowned and shook his head.

"Water card is fifteen credits. Rationing."

He sighed, placing the six bottles of water on the counter. Twelve credits for one bottle. The going rate in the Coruscant spaceport was three credits.

"Over-ration card?"

Nej shook his head. Fifteen more credits on the counter.

"Fifteen credits."

Nej sighed again. Another fifteen.

"Visitor ration card?"

Nej stood still.

"Fif-"

"Fifteen credits, yeah, I got it."

This place wreaked of corruption. The fact that he had to cough up that much for just some water- and not even a drink yet. He turned his head to the window, an old, broken down house near a tall grass field crumbling in the distance. Nej took a deep breath, placing his hands on his hips, waiting to be rung up. He heard a commotion outside- something about debt repayment and wage garnishment. Then a thud. A strike to the chest, if he had to guess. Then nothing more.

Nej had to remind himself it was one of many towns like this. He had no business here other than leaving and restocking, refueling and resting. All he had to do- was wait for the bar to open. Get a place to stay for the night, then bug out in the morning....

And avoid an ass-whooping by the three dozen plus corporate thugs here.

​

 

[Roark Garnett]

Rivertown…

A mining colony in the armpit of wild space. Civilized men called it lawless. Roark Garnett who had recently liberated medical supplies that technically belonged to the Black Sun called it his change of address.

In moral terms stealing from professional criminals wasn´t a crime at all. Unfortunately, Black Sun Vigos were not known for their interest in philosophical debates. They were well know however, for brutally slaughtering those who cut into their profits and that was something Roark had managed nicely, not that the stunt had made him any richer except perhaps in experience.

So he had taken the Max far out into the Wild Space territories to lay low for a while until the Black Suns grew tired of looking for some maverick who had stolen a train wagon full of Bacta, kolto and med droids.

The fringers who suffered the fallout from the sudden death of the Galactic Alliance needed that stuff. Again, another moral debate the Vigos wouldn´t join.

So Rivertown it was. The place had a sorry excuse for a space port but perhaps Roark could pick up a carg ohold of mining ore to ship around…

"Show me your corporate ID, skipper" the Twi´lek clerk at the mining office insisted. His species was supposed to be graceful and charismatic, right? Scratch that with this fat guy with the wart-covered lekkus and the raspy voice.

"Sorry, I´m not with the corporation. I´m just an independent trader looking for some honest work."

"Then show me your contractor card."

"Sorry again, I just arrived here. No contractors card I´m afraid."

The Twi´lek shook his head.

"No corporate ID. No contractor card. No work for you."

"And how can I get a contractor card?"

"Apply here. Pay one-thousand credits. Wait two weeks for the security clearance. Then. If your record is clean."

In Roark´s case this was corporate lingo for: You never get one!

"Thank you very much for the conversation, my stout fellow."

Roark left. Maybe he got get a drink without a corporate card and some provisions and then lock himself up in the ship together with Fizz and the kloo horn, do some jazz sessions and take it easy.

Maybe not.

He had two shadows as soon as he left the mining office, courtesy of the Twi´lek, no doubt.

Burly human guys, black uniforms with a red wolf logo on the chest and blaster carried low on the thigh. They didn´t look like they would sponsor him for a contractor card because of his charm. They looked more like corporate trouble, sheriffs of the corporation, whatever conglomerate called the shots here.

If Roark was lucky they were law-abiding cops and as long as he did not give them no trouble they would not give him no trouble. Yeah sure. That was why they wore their blaster so low that the holster slapped against their knees.

Why are you fooling yourself, Roark? These were blasted gunslingers. They were bored and looking for trouble. Scratch the drink. Get some cat food and haul jets like now.

Just as he found the store a guy walked out who looked even less corporate than Roark did.

Surely got no contractor card either.

"HEY YOU PUNK!"

The voice called out from behind, the universal greeting half the galaxy answered to.

Roark turned around half way.

"Which one of us? Him or me?"


Nej Tane

 

[Nej Tane]

Roark Garnett
​

Nej walked outside about the same time the other stranger did- and, water bottle in hand, turned to the gun-toting thugs outside the store. He was uncapped into his bottle when he stopped and looked over at the other companion, then the gun-thugs.

The other guy was obviously an out-of-towner, and the gun thugs were all barreling towards them. The thugs approached the pair of them, but seemed to be focused on Roark more than Nej. A finger was pointed not quite in the face of Roark- but close enough.

"You watch it in Rivertown, bad things happen to troublemakers."

Nej didn't say anything, eyeing the placement of their hands and movement of their fingers. The two departed, pushing into the market that Nej just came out of. If Nej had to guess, the shopkeeper was overcharging outsiders to pay protection money. Suddenly, he felt guilty about hating the guy. Or maybe they were all in on it. Hard to tell. Nej let them pass, and urged the other newcomer to do the same with a flick of his eyes.

"Best fight is the one you don't have."

He said, turning his head. He nudged the other newcomer along, walking down an admittedly colorful street. The buildings were tall and compact, with little space between them. No doubt to protect against the heavy winds or worse, raiders this far out.

Nej and the other newcomer found a set of chairs near a Pazaak table. Miners after their shifts would no doubt line up to play here. Nej pulled a bottle of water from his pack- handing it over to the man, watching the street. It'd pick up later, no doubt, but for now it was sparsely mulling with activity.

He let the silence and street pass, before leaning forward at the waist to his newfound temporary compatriot.

"I'm Nej, Nej Tane. Nice to meet you out here, hoss. What're you doing way out here?"

The same set of gun thugs plus some passed them- and eyed them. They were being watched. The whole place felt off.

​

 

[Roark Garnett]

It had been close.

Better than it could have gone but too close. Blasting guys who were the law around here was not on Roark´s agenda. Well, it could have been if he had been standing on the landing ramp of the Max with the engines running.

He wasn´t exactly the type to learn from experience but his experience had taught him: it would come to blasters soon enough.

Sure and that´s why Roark wasn´t climbing into orbit already but looked across a cantina table at a another guy who didn't fit in here anymore than he did, right?

"The name´s Roark Garnett. I did some business in the Fringe and came here hoping to pick up a cargo without having to get back one quarter through the galaxy with a empty ship. Looks like I should have. I´m starting to get a bad feeling about this place. You know what you get wen you stuff a bully in a uniform? You get a bully with a uniform."

He eyed Nej´s water bottles and actually managed to look like a deep guy invested in philosophy.

"Isn´t it funny? That you have to pay credits to buy drinking water in a place called *River*toewn where water should be plenty to go around?"

His had slid underneath the coat where the blaster was when a shadow fell over the table. A quick check out of the corner of his eye and Roark relaxed a bit at least for the moment.

This wasn´t one of the goons who approached them. Nor a Pazaak hustler looking for the ext fool who had woken up.

Miner.

Human, hardworking dude, too many callouses on his hands to quick-draw a blaster, face lined with dirt and depp lines from a hard life.

And a pair of eyes, clever enough to know he was in trouble but not hardboiled enough to ever get used to it.

Roark had seen eyes like that a lot lately. Hardworking, honest people abandoned by government and law, besieged by marauders, too proud to give in and too straight to stand a chance in the battle they were embroiled in up to their neck.

Straight folk caught in the harsh reality that not everyone was as straight as them, especially not the ones with the money, the power and the armies.

Casualties of war.

"Can I sit with you for a while?" hoarse, gravelly voice made rough not just by booze and smoke.

Fear made people sound like this.

He sat down. Pulled out a deck of Pazaak cards, dirty and caloused just like the hands that dealt them while he pretended to start a game. At least he didn´t look around all the time. Some practice in being watched.

How many pairs of eyes were watching them just now. How many palms that were greased by the bullies in uniform?

The miner pretended to deal, Roark pretended to look at the cards.

"What´s this game called? Lousy Hand Spike?"

The miner coughed up a laugh, literally. Whatever they mined here, it ate at the lungs.

"You figured the rules already, I recon? We drownin´ round here and it ain´t the river."

He had dealt two cards for each of them. Roark lifted the corner of his hand to check the values.

Two of staves and three of flasks. Lousy Hand indeed.

"More like drowning in credits that always fall upwards despite gravity?"

Another cough that wanted to sound like laughter, the way you laugh when the blaster muzzle is already touching your temple.

"Let´s just say we could use guys like you here."

Nej Tane

 

[Nej Tane]

Nej and Roark had a quiet moment to themselves, if only for a few moments.

"Maybe the water ain't what the river is." Nej mused, and opened his mouth to speak- but shut up quickly when the miner came and sat down with them. He was distrusting as they came as it was, and the only reason that he seemed to want to be with Roark is that he had more of a reason to trust him than anyone else.

He heard the cough, saw the hard man. Heard his words, heard his desperation. Another set of gun-thugs. Different ones. Passing in a different direction. One of them was toying with a bowie knife, flicking at his fingernails. Nej, for some odd reason, thought of that old house out the way- out in one of the food fields out of town.

Old, wood.

Must've been either old, or important. Or both. Some reason it kept coming back to him. He let the Miner speak, then held up a hand.

"Look, I feel for ya, but we're two guys, and even if we blast all these fools, it may not get better, and hell, it could get a lot worse. Imagine the heat that'll come after these guys-" He stopped when the same pair passed. Trying to make it look like they were on regular patrol. Keeping an eye on them. Or maybe the miner. Hard to say.

"Plus, you got no idea who we are. Better off just letting us on our way, ya dig?"

Roark Garnett

​

 

[Roark Garnett]

"Yes, he´s right." Roark agreed. "You are looking for blasters for hire to shoot blasters for hire, plain and simple. That´s what it is all about and that ain´t no good idea man. For one thing it´s only two of us and we´ve known each other like ten minutes longer than you did. I have no reason to trust this guy nor does he have reason to trust me."

Roark cast a sideways look at Nej, "No offense meant brother. I´m pretty sure we both belong to the brotherhood of space tramps but that is how far it goes for now. No hard feelings, yes?"

He turned his attention back to the mines, "Friend, you´ve got desperation written all over your face. Let me make a guess. The company treats you like slaves. Whatever money they pay you with the right hand, they swindle it out of your pockets again with the left through overpriced supplies and rents charged by the shopkeepers and landlords who pay protection to the company. Seen that before. A story as old as the credit. At the end of the day your real wage is that you live. Unless one of the company lawmen gets an itch in hi triggerfinger that is."

The miners face crumbled like a rock crushed in a hydraulic press, his shoulders sacked and the calloused hands cramped around the worn cards.

Bullseye and Roark hadn´t even got started with the wives of the miners working as prostitutes and their children going without an education to become the next generation of wageslaves.

"And the kicker is, even if you want to pay us, You can´t. Like with what?"

The miners exhaled deeply, shrunk further in hgis chair as he did.

"We could not pay you much now… but after we cash in on the ore…"

"Yeah sure", Roark shook his head, "Just for fun, think about this. You don´t evn know our names or the first other thing about us. What if we take you and your plans for a little revolution to the company. Might get us more benefit than working for you at little risk."

The credit finally dropped. Roark could see the panic in the miner's eyes. He finally realized what an idiot he was and not the kind you win a card game with.


Nej Tane

 

[Nej Tane]

(Better late than never!)


Nej looked over at his new compatriot, and that part of Nej- not the billionaire, not the criminal, not the gunslinger, not anything other than Nej, asked a question. That part of him that he couldn't escape... being an outlaw. A rebel.

Nej offered him one of the bottles of water. With the prices, he assumed the miner could barely hope to afford it, or at least, not enjoying it as much.

"Hypothetically, what are you asking us to do?"

That big house again. On his mind. Couldn't escape the thought of it. He rubbed his temples, squinting his eyes. He wondered if his companion felt that too. That draw to it- or even, just the thought of that old house on the edge of town.

"We ain't going to the company, either."

Nej looked over at his new companion- like it or not. But that was off the table, that much was for certain.

Roark Garnett

​

 

[Roark Garnett]

The miner looked down at his cards, gestured helplessly like a man who had been grasping at straw beams for lack of any better plan.

It was always hope that died last and when it happened than in agony. Roark could watch hope in its death throws here.

"Don´t know," the miner finally, "Reckoned you could deal with the corp security."

"In plain Galactic Basic you mean", Roark summed up, "we meet their gunmen on Main Street, look them straight into the steely eyes nd shoot it out with them, like the proud heroic gunslingers in the holo-soaps."

The smuggler shook his head.

"Doesn´t work like this. It would be two against an army. Only thing you get from this idea are two dead strangers and corporate security madder than a pack of womb rats. More poisonous too. Let me guess. We are not the first ones. Not the first ones to die and not the first ones to walk out on you. I don´t like the plan, mostly because I would be one of the two dead strangers. It´ll be just one big hanging tree for all of us."

He could practically hear the squeal when hope died and let out its last ragged breath. The miners´ body slumped in defeat. His head hung low and he could not meet their gaze..

Roark shoved his hand of cards back to him. Lousy card to begin with, just like the offer.

"Shuffle again. Elsewhere. We need a moment of privacy here. It´s not good when we are seen with each other anyway. You are not very good at this."

The miner looked like a man with a ton of frozen carbonite on his shoulders when he slowly climbed to his feet.

"Sorry. Sorry for bothering you." he said very quietly, gathered his cards and lurched away, the ton of carbonite getting heavier with every step.

Roark waited until he was out of hearing range before he turned to Nej.

"Now what do you think? Shall we do the good thing or the smart thing? Get involved or get lost?"

Nej Tane

 

[Nej Tane]

Nej looked over at his new compatriot, and pulled a silver coin out of his pocket. It was old, very old. He looked at it for a while, taking a deep breath. Someone he knew a long time ago, someone who he was searching for across all these stars and galaxy and across all this time-

Would've done the right thing.

"It's just one planet, you know? Out of a whole lot of others that we can visit in weeks, days when we leave. But maybe for these people-" He took a deep breath. "It's all they got."

He pulled the coin between his fingers.

"We get one go-around the galaxy. Maybe we oughta do something meaningful with it."

He stopped pulling the coin, putting it back into his pocket.

Roark Garnett

​

 

[Roark Garnett]

Roark watched the coin appear and disappear,not out of greed or monetary value but for its beauty. It meant a lot to Nej, he could feel that vibrating off the precious metal even when it was gone again.

"I hoped you would say that, pal. But we ain´t doing it the way these union boys want, for our own sake and theirs. No shootout on Main Street with an army. I suggest for one we do not tell the miners that we are going to work on their cause. What they don´t know, they cannot spill. Corps can be very persuasive and there is not much credit to make anyway.. Second, I suggest we leave this lovely town publicly and in broad daylight and sneak back in at night, see where we can hit the suits qand their goons where it hurts them most – in their bank account."

Roark looked first into his empty glass and then straight in Nej´s face, finding a quiet understanding there.

The silver coin had been cast.

"You would not happen to be an expert in guerilla warfare and demolitions, would you?"

Nej Tane

 

[Nej Tane]

Nej tapped his chin and shook his head. "No, I'm not... not entirely, really. But, I think..." He turned his head to the mine. He turned back to his new compatriot. "That we can make it more advantageous for ourselves than otherwise." He leaned forward at the waist, ran a hand through his hair, and watched another set of the Corporate gun-thugs pass. Nej gave a sharp whistle.

"I'm Nej Tane, and I'm wanted on sixteen systems and by three different Hutt Cartels." He rose to a stand, watching the two gun thugs go for their pistols, but Nej- in a blinding display of speed and precision, had already cleared leather of both of his pistols, and both of them pressed in the direction of the gun thugs. The street went quiet.

"Floor, real slow. Kick 'em away."

They complied, and their weapons went clattering away.

"Now, that we're all civil-like. I'll be seeing you at that old house outside town." He sent them scattering with a clicking of his teeth, presumably to go get the rest of their friends, or whoever would be willing to face off Nej. He had a bounty worth a few hundred thousand, but Nej was worth billions of credits now. He looked at his compatriot, giving him a slight upnod.

"Lets go set an ambush, my friend."

He held out his hand for his new friend to walk, and join him at that rickety old house.

​

 

[Roark Garnett]

Roark watched the scene unfold with a mix of admiration and wariness. Nej Tane was fast - faster than most he'd seen in his rough-and-tumble travels across the Fringe. Fast enough that he really never! Wanted to find out who was better.

The way those corporate goons hit the dirt, their blasters skittering across the dusty street, spoke volumes. Nej wasn't just some wanderer; he was a storm waiting to break. And now, Roark was caught in the gust.

He stood, brushing off his coat with a casual flick, his eyes scanning the street as the last of the thugs scrambled off like spooked nerfs. A faint smirk tugged at his lips as he met Nej's upnod with a nod of his own.

"Hell of a way to make friends, Tane," he quipped, his tone dry but carrying a glint of respect. "I'm in. Let's make these suits regret ever stepping foot in Rivertown."

As they started walking, Roark's mind was already spinning with a plan - one that didn't involve a reckless blaster duel in the middle of town.

"Hold up on that ambush for a sec, though," he said, keeping his voice low as they moved toward the outskirts. His boots crunched on the gravel, the oppressive heat of Lasan's sun bearing down on them. "I ain't keen on a straight-up shootout with these corporate dogs. Too many of 'em, too little of us. But I've got a different idea. The best ambushes are tose no oe expects, right?"

He gestured vaguely toward the horizon, where the skeletal silhouette of his ship, the Max, sat parked at the sorry excuse for a spaceport.

"We fetch my starship. She's got a blaster cannon mounted on the undercarriage - nothing fancy, but it'll chew through a squad of those black-uniformed bastards before they can blink. We roll in from above, hit 'em hard, and scatter 'em like dust in a windstorm. Way cleaner than trading bolts face-to-face."

Roark's eyes narrowed as he scanned the terrain ahead, the old house Nej mentioned coming into view - a weathered husk of wood and duracrete, half-swallowed by the tall grass.

"And while we're at it, let's use the Max's sensor array. If it's working - and that's a big if - I wanna sweep the area for anything juicy. Like a corporate power generator. We blow that to kriffing pieces, we cripple their whole operation. No power, no mining rigs, no security grids. They'll be too busy scrambling to fix their toys to hunt us down."

He shot Nej a sideways glance, gauging his reaction.

"What do you say? We play this smart - hit 'em where it hurts most, not where they expect us. Set up near that old house for cover, lure 'em in, then bring the Max down on their heads. We'll turn their greed into their graveyard."

Roark's hand rested near his blaster, a habit born of too many close calls, but his posture stayed relaxed. He waited for Nej's take, ready to adapt. Out here in Wild Space, plans changed faster than a Hutt's mood, but one thing was clear: they weren't leaving Rivertown without leaving a mark.

Nej Tane