Igni Irae
Lena looks at me like I've lost my marbles. "You're crazy."
Feels weird being Firith now. "I told my cousin the same thing."
"There's soldiers everywhere. And drones in the sky. The PF is bad enough. They're cruel thugs. Killing a Twi'lek is sport for them. But it's not just them now. It's Butcher Lachesis. The PF can be bribed to look the other way. The KEC can't."
"Get kicked around by the thugs in black long enough and you'll notice they're just as dirty. The price is just higher," I retort as I steer the groundcar past ramshackle buildings. Most windows are either broken or boarded up. A body hangs from a lamp post. Well, what's left of it. The crows have been eating their fill. Was this the woman I saw being lynched? I suppress a shudder.
"I'm serious, Shakka," Lena says irritably.
"Me, too, good-sister in spirit. Me, too," I bite back. "You saw what just happened. Hell, see that body over there? Could be you one day. Probably will be. You want your kid to...grow up here?"
She's quiet for a moment. "No. But I want him to live," she sighs. "I assume you have a plan. Let me guess, it involves that Zeltron hussy Firith works for." She evidently notices my surprise, and snorts. "My husband doesn't have secrets from me. I know what he does to help put food on the table. We can't be picky about how we get it."
"Well, that's good. Makes things less awkward. "Supposed to help us get an in with the Guard."
"The Guard, of course."
"Our great and noble saviours," I roll my eyes. "If you're useful to them." And if one of our guys happens to get blown up by one of their roadside bombs, that's tough. Ditto if they stage a hit on a humie patrol and the Vaderites wipe out an alien village that just happens to be nearby. But, look, since all your family was murdered, why don't you join the Guard and get revenge? They people's army is recruiting. It makes the bile rise up in me. I try to swallow my bitterness.
"You're bartering," Lena realises. "You're using your access to a Disciple to give them information they want." Her eyes widen. "Shakka, you're not going to help them carry out a hit, are you?"
"No," I say quickly. "Just information."
"If they want you to plant something in KEC headquarters, arrange a distraction, whatever – don't do it! You'll die. They have a Sith holding court. And there'll be reprisals. That raid you saw was bad enough. When I was in the prison, people were being beaten and shot throughout the night. I heard the screams. When the humies got drunk, they grabbed some prisoners in my cell at random and beat them, while we had to watch. They burnt a Twi'lek's hands so bad the skin was peeled off. They...said they had Twi'lek gloves now." She takes a breath. "At midnight, they dragged me and a little girl out into the courtyard. One man held a gun to my throat. He was drunk. I thought I was going to die. He fired. It was a blank. They killed the girl. Her blood...her blood was splattered across my face."
"I'm sorry."
She wipes tears from her eye. "Imagine what they'll do if one of their bigwigs is attacked."
Look, all I'm going to do is give them info about where Bakios has been hiding his shit before the humies get it."
"Alright." The road is bumpy and the groundcar wobbles a bit. But we've reached her place. "If we manage to get out, there may still be reprisals."
"I know...but they don't need a reason to murder people. And here we are, home, not so sweet home, I guess." I stop the groundcar and get out.
Her shoulders slump. "They'll call me a spy," she says as she disembarks, and gives me a look. She looks agitated, twitching slightly. Her eyes sweep over the street, like she's scared someone will suddenly pounce. "We must spread word of what your Master said. Keep people away from the hospital. Best leave out the part about hearing it from the 'kindly Sith'. We overheard KEC goons bragging about it."
"And no mention of 'kindly Sith' setting you free," I mutter. A corpse still lies on the street, stripped of all possessions. Two crows are picking off flesh.
"Yes." She knocks on the door. Two quick knocks. "It's me...Lena." A hard knock. The door opens just a bit, but a big Gungan stands in the doorway, blocking us. He looks familiar. But there's a bruise on his face that wasn't there before.
He holds a knife in his hand. The Gungan looks like he's seen a ghost when he stares at Lena. "Lena..the PF nabbed you. What are you doing here?"
"I...I got lucky."
"One night in a PF dungeon and back already?" he sneers at her.
"I didn't betray us, Taroq! What do you think happened in prison? We Twi'lek are the last people humies treat with kid's gloves."
"And I know people do anything to get out. Just one night. Must have been really good...or really bad, if they let you go afterwards. Even brought the humie pet." Lena's cheeks are red with shame and anger.
The one thing that pisses me off more than this crap is that I know I'd do the same as him. My hands are clenched into fists. I'm fuming. "Hey, who you're calling humie pet? Lena..."
"I'll handle this, Shakka. They let me go because I had dirt on Bakios and one of the humies wanted him gone to make herself look good."
"Bakios?"
"Word must've travelled down the grapevine. He's outta the picture," I interject.
"And the KEC's here instead," he says pointedly.
Lena takes a step forward. "I belong here. And I want to see my son. I need to."
"Go up," the Gungan cuts her off, stepping aside with a sigh. "No guarantees you'll be allowed to stay. Your husband's here, too."
"Firith?"
"Won't be allowed to stick around. Think your cot's taken."
"I figured," she says flatly.
Sighing, he steps aside. Then suddenly we hear shouting coming from inside. "You frakking thief!" Hearing the angry voice, Taroq grunts. "Not again."
Many faces I saw during my first visit are gone. A lump forms in my throat when I realise that most will not. In the unlikely event that anyone else gets released, they'll just go back to die later. Either by collapsing in the field, being shot for 'breaking curfew' or simply to waste away here. Most of those I see in the tiny, dirty rooms or corridors look sick or injured. Some have faces marked by rashes. As Lena and I pass, a few non-Twi'lek shoot us hostile glances.
Here and there, I them mutter. "Lena, you're back!", "how'd she get out?" "humie spy," "whore." I see her tense and she looks like she's about to confront one of them. "Not now," I hiss to her in a whisper.
Lena stops when a Mon Calamari woman calls her name. "Lena! Do...do you know what happened to my Roalaa?" she asks her pleadingly.
"I'm sorry, he...he didn't..." Lena stammers, reaches out to take the woman's hand. "They killed him..."
"No, no." Tears run down the Mon Cal's face. "And they let you out! Why?"
"Shih, wait..." But she's already turned away, crying.
I take Lena by the arm and lead her further inside. As I walk through the corridor, I stumble over a sleeping Zabrak, and hit the floor hard. "Sorry, sorry," I say quickly, getting to my feet. No response. She's thin as a rail. "Hey, you..." I shake the body a bit. Then I freeze when I realise she's cold, and not breathing.
Lena looks close to tears. "No, that was Levrae," she says sadly. "Her father's...still imprisoned. Frak. He asked me to look out for her," she sighs. "Hey, that girl here is dead..."
"Let's go," I tug her by the shoulder. We get away as quickly as we can. One of the residents has noticed the body and picks it up.
Then I suddenly catch sight of a blue Twi'lek male, throwing a punch at a Rodian. "Thief!" he yells. "Give it to me!" he punches a Rodian in the face, then shoves him into the wall. He seems to be trying to grab something, but the Rodian bites his hand and then kicks him. "Leave me alone, wormie! It's mine!" People move out of the way as they beat on each other. I grab a hold of Lena's shoulder before she can step in.
Just as they are in the middle of facing off against each other, the old Mon Calamari hastens between them, looking out of breath. "Do you really have to do the humie's jobs for them?" he yells. The Twi'lek tries to get around him but Tarog seizes him from behind. "Stay put," he growls.
"Now what the hell's this about?"
"I was just minding my own business. Then he attacks me!" the Rodian exclaims.
"I was out in the fields, working all day. Then I come and see sucker-face strut around with my chrono," the Twi'lek snarls. "He won't give it back."
"You lie, wormhead," the Rodian fires back. "It's mine. I found it. No way a Twi'lek would be given a chrono."
"Alright, both of you calm down. Where'd you get it from, Abez?" the Mon Calamari says tiredly.
"From my family. It's a heirloom. Aramgir, it's the only thing I've got left from my parents. But he just had to steal it."
"Can you prove it's yours? Got an engraving or something?"
"No," the Twi'lek sighs. "Look, it's mine. You know how the humies are. I couldn't show it off or they'd call me a thief and shoot me."
Aramgir looks at the Rodian. "Liung?"
"He can't prove anything. I found it, it's mine. And he just attacked me."
"Taroq, let him go. How important is this thing to you? Important enough to fight over it while so many of our friends are in jail and we don't know if any of us will be alive in a month?" the Mon Calamari asks intently. The Twi'lek looks down. The Rodian glares at them, but slips the chrono off and tosses it to the floor. "Fine. I probably can't get batteries for it anyway," he growls and walks away.
The Mon Calamari picks it up with a frustrated sigh. "Abez, I hate to say it but..."
"You want to give it up."
"Look around you. We were barely scraping by before the Butcher came. People are collapsing in their cots and dying. People are offering their kids to humie thugs! We need anything we can trade. Every valuable, every heirloom helps."
Abez looks at him sceptically. "You really want to barter it for the 'good of the community'?"
"Abez, I'm old. Chances are I won't be around for long. What point would there be for me to hoard it?"
And then I hear a familiar voice from further down the corridor. "I know a dealer." Firith steps in. "May I?" he asks. Aramgir glowers at him. "Just taking a look. Hmm doesn't look bad. Enough to barter." He hands it to the Mon Calamari. Then he sees Lena and sputters. "Love...I thought...I thought I'd never..."
"Firith...I...," Lena takes a deep breath, looking like she's struggling not to rush towards him. Composing herself, she looks at the two. "Aramgir is a good man. You can trust him. We're all in this together."
He narrows his eyes. "All in this together – curious that you'd say that. You're back already. No one else is."
Firith glares at him. "Are you calling my wife a collaborator, Abez?"
"Enough! I just broke up one fight. I won't have you two start another, so calm down," Aramgir growls at them.
"Sell the chrono. I haven't forgotten where my people stand." Abez stalks off.
Aramgir shakes his head, pockets the chrono and looks at us. "Lena...and Shakka, was it? Come with me."
"I'm coming with her," Firith insists.
"Alright."
We fall in line. But as we walk Firith suddenly stops and pulls Lena into a hug. "I thought I'd lost you," he exclaims. "What did those bastards do to you?"
"I'm back now...and we're together. Is Jela alright?"
Firith looks sad. "Tired. He had to work in the fields. I bribed one of the pigs to put him in my work crew and give him light work. He got out early, love."
"Where's he now?"
"With some other kids. Some folks got grabby fingers, but I salvaged some of your stuff. Luckily I didn't leave the special stash here." He glances at me. "Cuz, thanks for everything."
"Let's not get the champagne bottles out yet," I joke lamely.
He gives me his usual big brother look. "You alright? You got mixed up in this PF business?"
"No big deal. We still got more drama ahead of us."
We find ourselves in the room where I first brought met Aramgir. Taroq takes up position at the door. "When I saw the humies force you into that van, I thought you were gone for good, Lena," Aramgir speaks, looking all grave.
"So did I," she fidgets a bit. "I don't know what happened to Bola. Last I saw her one of the goons dragged her away. I didn't see her again. Shakka, do you know more? She's the Rodian who was on the committee with us."
I try to think back to our visit to the jail. "She was being dragged to interrogation. Don't know more. Wait, I think the goon was the Gamorrean who's my Master's bodyguard."
Aramgir rubs his bald, domed head. "If she's not out now, she won't be getting out. Which begs the question of why you were released." The Mon Cal stares at Lena, his large, gray eyes boring into her.
"She said something about helping them screw over Bakios, boss," Taroq speaks, looking sceptically at her.
"I told them about a grain container."
"And Shakka and me digged up some dirt about how he's been feathering his nest," Firith states, whereupon I nod.
"How'd you get the information?" Aramgir asks.
Cuz shrugs. "Channels you don't want to know about."
"You buy this, boss? We got the rules for a reason," Taroq throws in.
Aramgir rubs his temples. "If there's one thing the Vaderites love as much as stomping on us, it's eating each other. You can stay – for now. You'll face a vote."
"Of course, thank you, Aramgir," Lena takes a deep breath. "There's something else you have to know."
"Something from her Sith master?" he turns his large, grey eyes to me.
"No, something we overheard some KEC goons brag about," I respond.
"They want to clear the hospital," Lena explains. "By that I mean kill the sick, anyone they think is a 'useless eater'."
"Frak," Firith slams his hand onto the table. "Butcher Lachesis wants to continue what she started."
"They haven't squeezed us enough for that…yet," Aramgir retorts. "They'll wait with killing everyone till then."
"Then it's the first step. How many of us will be by the end of the year?"
"I've been through this before. The Vaderites didn't bring enough manpower to slaughter the whole city They'd need the PF to do the legwork. They do things slice by slice. Divide and conquer. Do you know if they're going for all the sick or are they targeting specific groups?"
I shake my head. "No idea. But we know who's on their shit list."
"Nass was a Gungan, and Twi'leks, Togruta and Mon Cal are their favourite bogeymen," Lena says.
"How much time do we have?" he asks her.
"They didn't say, but from the looks of it not much."
Taroq suddenly retrieves a piece of paper. It's a picture. He hands it to me, and I freeze when I see the face. The same smug, gap-toothed smile, the sadistic look. "There's been rumours about him being around. You seen him at KEC Central?" the Gungan asks.
"Yes," I swallow, "yes, he's there."
"Show me," Firith demands. "Who is he? What did he do to you?"
"Doesn't matter. He's a KEC scumbag. Name's Mengales or something."
"Menkales," Taroq says with a snarl. "Progress inmates know him as the Angel of Death. Anyone who falls into his hands is better off dead. The world is his lab and we're the guinea pigs." He points to the scars on his face. "He wanted to see how we respond to different types of liquid. Or he just felt like it. So he submerged Gungans in oil."
"Frak." He was in Progress. He suffered under that monster. I just thought he was being a jerk to me. Frak.
"I got lucky. He grew bored before he could try out the acid bath. His goons had a Twi'lek for him. I don't know the details of what he did to her. It was days until I saw her again…when she flung herself at the electrified fence. Her right lek was gone. When he saw her, all inmates in the section had to assemble and stand outside for hours from morning till night – during a heat wave. No food, no water, if someone got tired they were beaten."
Lena's lip trembles a bit. "I…caught a glimpse of him while I was imprisoned by the KEC. He was touring the cells. Some prisoners were dragged out for him. He came to my cell. He didn't do anything, just…stared. Like he was staring a piece of meat. I heard him mutter 'if only you were red'." Hearing that makes a shudder run down my spine.
"Did he -?" Firith starts. "If you need a moment…"
She shakes her head. "A guard told him he couldn't see me without the Disciple's permission…We have to spread word that the hospital's not safe."
"Starting with the wounded in this block, then spread out. Tell them to hide. But be smart about it. We can't cause a panic and tip the Vaderites off," Aramgir states. "Taroq, you know your way around the district?"
"I'll hit the road."
"We also have people in the hospital."
"We're not going there, Lena. The Vaderites won't release you a second time," Firith insists.
"If it's not under lockdown now, it will be soon," Aramgir tells her. "We've got…let them go."
Lena opens her mouth, closes it and nods. Firith takes her hand. "Yes…we have to," she finally says. "I can go with Taroq when we're done here. Firith…is there any way for people who need medication to get it through your…contacts?"
"Not at prices they can afford, love. Little supply, lot of demand, and lots of danger since the Butcher came to town. The smugglers are scared," he frowns. "I know of a medicine woman though. A Gamorrean."
I snort. "A Gamorrean? Really? The pigs are the boot stompin' on our face. Collabs, the lot of them."
"They're bastards, but beggars can't be choosers," Aramgir interrupts. "What's her name?"
"Iggirc."
"Alright. I'll make a list of people who need urgent help and take it to her. I figure you got things to talk about," he glances at Lena.
"Yes…I need to see my son, find my things and get my cot back. Or find somewhere else to sleep."
"Sort it out between yourselves. Civilly." Aramgir sounds weary. His skin looks old and leathery. Firith, Lena and me head out.
"Firith, can you fetch Jela? Shakka and I'll check out my cot. If I'm lucky, whoever's taken it also has my things and hasn't bartered them yet."
"Yell if there's trouble."
Off we go, through increasingly crowded corridors. But what we see when we find the room isn't what expect. Lena navigates the bodies lying in the room. The air is stale. "Ahem, excuse me," she clears her throat. "That's my cot," she says sharply.
The person lying in it turns. I gasp when I see her. The Nautolan's tendrils are badly burnt. Even the haphazardly applied bandages can't hide it. "Lena?" she asks groggily. "I thought you were done for."
"Awinn? What happened to you?" Lena asks in shock.
"Oil from a mechanical thresher," Awinn sits up, wincing in pain. "I'm very sorry about taking your spot. I just really needed somewhere to crash and you, well, people normally don't come back when the humies nab them. I'm gonna be moved to the hospital soon. I heard they brought in fresh blankets and filled up their stock of painkillers."
"No, no…you can stay," Lena says quickly. "Don't feel bad, and don't go to the hospital!"
"What do you mean? What's wrong?"
"Keep the noise down," someone groans.
Ignoring whoever it is, Lena sits down next to Awinn. "The hospital's not safe," she says quietly. "The humies are going to round up patients to kill them."
"You're serious. I believe you. What…what should we do? It…hurts."
"Aramgir knows someone who can help. Make sure he knows."
"I will," Awinn sits up, wincing in pain. Then her eyes widen in shock. "Frak. Iacenda's there!" she shouts. Some others in the room stir. "What the hell's that noise?" one yells. It's too dark for me to tell who.
"Sh, sorry," Lena says placatingly. She takes Awinn's hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't think."
"She has a chest infection. It got pretty bad," the Nautolan shaking. "I have to tell her."
"Lena, listen to me, if you go there, you'll die," she puts a hand on the uninjured side of her face.
"I can't just...give up on her."
"It's a one way trip there."
"Then at least she won't be alone."
"Shakka?" she calls to me.
I step towards them. "I had a friend once back in the ghetto. A Trandoshan. Her name was Vrerkh. She was my best friend, big sister, guardian. Then...the Vaderites murered her." My voice threatens to crack. I won't cry. "Her last words were that I should live. Someone had to." My hands clench into fists. "These bastards want to kill us all. We have to live...if only to spite them."
Her shoulders slump. "I'm sorry Ia." Tears are running down her face. "Check under the cot. There's a box. Most of your stuff was gone when I came here, but I kept what was left."
Lena fetches the box and looks through it. I see her clutch a locket, and I catch a glimpse of a picture of Firith. "Oh, thank you, Awinn. Thank you."
"Least I could do."
I reach into my pocket. "Here, for you," I drop a few Imperial Credits into her hand. They're not worth the paper they're printed on, but it's something. Something to get you through this hell for a little bit longer. "Take them." She looks at the credits in surprise, then smiles. "Thanks. That's kind of you."
"Us xenos got to stick together and piss off the humies by not being polite enough to die."
She sniffs. "To hell with them. All of them."
"We resist every moment we breathe and say we're sentient, no matter how many times they try to slaughter us like beasts," Lena says. "I'll be back later, Awinn." As we leave the room, I hear Awinn sob. Holding the box, Lena walks out with me. "Awinn Tektu. Can you…mention her to your Master?" she whispers. "She mentioned she wanted people for a factory, didn't she?"
"Yeah, textiles, clothing."
"Awinn's good at maintenance. She'd probably do a better job than those 'superior' humie engineers."
"I'll tell her when I'm back. Anyone else?"
Lena frowns. "Off the top of my head – Dia Nilim. She's young, but I know her mother taught her about sewing. Poor kid. Orsk Fiteth, a Bothan, and Wrea Akkor, a Rodian. They know a bit about machines. I'll tell Aramgir to…reach out and to talk to other block committee heads. Whatever happens, I can do this at least."
Then a little ball of energy races towards them. "Momma!" Suddenly Lena's boy has wrapped his arms around her in a fierce bear hug.
"Sh," she brings her finger to her lips. "These people are trying to rest. Awinn is in a bad way."
"Sorry," he says sheepishly. "I..just when those humie arseholes took you, I thought I'd…never see you again."
She hugs him close. "It's okay, everything's alright, I'm back. No one's going to take me away again." He sniffs a bit. "Did they hurt you?"
"Let's not speak of what happened, just look forward."
"We're all gonna be together now? Daddy, too."
"We're family, we'll stay, together," Firith reassures him.
"Good. I don't want those arseholes to take you."
"They won't…but we must be very careful. And mind your language, young man," Lena says sternly.
"But that's what they are, momma."
"Don't look at me," Firith chuckles a bit. "I'm always a model of good manners around him."
I just can't let that slide and elbow him lightly. "Uh-huh."
"You're supposed to back me up, coz." He pats Jela on the shoulder. "Your momma's very brave. She stood up to the bad men. You remember Shakka? She helped get her out."
"Yes!" he looks at me a bit shyly. "Daddy told me all about you! He said you're real cool and helped bust momma out. Can I call you 'Auntie'?"
"Sure, always wanted to have a nephew."
And then he sees the damn collar. "You're a slave. I'm sorry." Simple, innocent words from a kid. They shouldn't affect me like they do.
"Don't be sorry, not your fault."
"I wish you were free and not a slave of these ar…," I can tell what the boy's about to say, but he bites his tongue, "evil humies."
Firith squats down to be on the same level as Jel. "We'd all like that. But you must be careful with what you say and where. Things are very dangerous now, and I don't know when they'll get better. We'll get through it, but for that we have to stick together and watch out. Understood?"
"Got it. I…won't let you down."
"I know you won't. You're a good boy, so proud of you."
"Firith, Shakka mentioned you had a new employment opportunity. Something to help us get through these difficult times. I think you should really look into our options." Lena glances to Firith. Her expression is grave. "We must all stick together."
I blink, then I understand what she's getting at. A ghost of a smile dances on Firith's face for a short moment. "Yes, you got it. I, um, have an appointment soon."
"I was going to tag along. You know, help with my owner's connections. I got, um, a reference."
"Then there's no time to waste. Opportunities like this come and go." Her gaze settles on me. "We're family. All four of us."
"Yes, we are," I look at Jela. "Take care of your momma, little man."
"I will. You take care, too."
I pat his head. Firith gives Lena a hug and a kiss. As we head out, I catch a glimpse of Lena taking Jela aside and whispering: "You need to listen very carefully. You can't say anything around the humies or their goons, but you must tell your friends…"
"So, um, our appointment," I mutter to Firith as we head for the door.
"Yes. You brought a 'reference'."
"All about how great a worker you are. There's no better one. You'll be a great asset for the factory."
"The very best." The door creaks open, and we walk out. It's getting dark.
"Curfew's coming, we got no time to waste," Firith says.
"Do we have a long way to go?"
"Not much. That's your car?" I nod. "Leave it. Folks might get twitchy seeing a groundcar with the KEC logo. I'll do the talking. You show them the goods, but let's not drop it into their lap too easily. Or we'll look desperate."
"We are desperate."
"Too desperate."
And so make our way past decrepit buildings and dirty streets. When we cross the road after having left the block, we suddenly hear the deafening wail of sirens. Frak, it's the PF! Firith grabs me and we duck in an alley behind some garbage. The sirens are so loud I must clamp down on the urge to cover my ears. Firith peers out. "That's…an ambulance."
I look up. "As big as a bus." Our eyes lock. My blood runs cold. It's already starting.
Then we hear a voice through a loudspeaker. "We're here for anyone who's ill or has been seriously hurt. The Rising Hope Medical Facility has received fresh bed clothes, and a full stock of medical supplies. Every patient will get a fresh meal. Refusal will be penalised, so do the right thing for your family and your community."
"Bastards." The bile rises inside me. "Look, one of them is a Twi'lek," I point at the lackey yelling through the loudspeaker. Of course. Gotta reassure the lambs while you lead them to the slaughterhouse.
"Frakking collabs," Firith grunts. "We can't stop them. Come." But I hear the sound of metal clicking against the pavement. Turning I see a Rodian hobbling on crutches. His gaze is fixated on the huge ambulance. "Friend, what's going on?" he calls to us.
"Get away, it's a trap!" Firith shouts to make himself heard over the noise. "Don't listen to them."
But the collabs have spotted us. The Twi'lek lackey and two big Houk goon quickly crosses over to us. Firith blinks when he sees him. "Day'lec?"
"Firith, what are you doing here? Staying out of trouble?"
"Doing my best. Just on my way to the labour office. What's all this about?"
"Doing my duty, my friend." The lackey turns his gaze to the Rodian. "Comrade, we're here to help. You're a worker?"
"Yeah, just heading home, doctor. I have my papers right here, and a certificate from my supervisor," he coughs.
The schutta gives him a fake smile. "No need for that, comrade. We're here for you. You shouldn't have to work in your state. Come, we can help you."
"You're a frakking liar," I snarl at him.
"Please, sister, we're all in the same boat."
"Didn't the KEC just confiscate Rising Hope's supplies to help their wounded?" Firith asks pointedly. "Come on, Day'lec, you have so few supplies you have to get them through…unofficial channels. Humies don't share. Your hospital's packed. I know this guy. He's productive. Just…leave him."
"Yes…I do support work for his crew. So thanks, but I'll pass. I'm not feeling that bad, doctor. I've been feeling a lot better. I don't want to take a bed from someone who really needs it. I'm supposed to show up to work first thing in the morning," the Rodian says firmly and tries to turn. But the Houk thug blocks his path and puts a hand on his shoulder.
"You want help," the thug grunts.
"The orders come straight from the Health Authority."
"Damn it, you know what the humies want," Firith growls. "What happened to the guy who stole painkillers for the poor sods who couldn't afford to go to the hospital? Are you that much of a bootlicker now?"
"You really should come with us," the blood traitor says in that faux nice voice.
"How do you even live with yourself? Doing the humies' dirty work. It's bad enough when they do it," I point at his attack dog, "but one of us?"
And the mask falls. "Listen to me carefully," the doctor says flatly, all trace of faux kindness gone from him. "The patient is going to the hospital to receive the best care there is. Would you really want to deny him that? We Twi'leks are a generous, obedient people, aren't we?" he turns to his two thugs. "Assist our friend here on board and get him settled. And you two…scram. I'd keep your words to yourself if I were you, others might take them as…subversive."
"Wait, I have cash…it's yours, take it..." The poor Rodian is shaking when a thug grabs him and hauls him into his ambulance. He cries out in pain, losing one of his crutches. But the thug doesn't bother pick it up. "My name's Seychi Thoska, block 007, tell my…" Then the door is slammed shut.
"Just one question: will you do that to your fellow Twi'leks, too?" Firith asks the traitorous bastard. "Because that test's coming…if it hasn't already."
"You go now," the other Houk thug growls at us. And he slams his baton into Firith's chest and shoves him into the dirt.
"Bastard!" I throw myself at the goon but he backhands me with his gauntlet. Pain explodes inside my skull and the thug grabs my lekku and squeezes. I scream in pain. My head connects with cold, hard pavement. I taste blood on my lips. Firith is down, trying to protect himself as the other brute beats on him, kicking him viciously.
"Stop!" the Twi'lek lackey snaps. Frak you, traitor. "You could never see the big picture, Firith. Don't interfere again." Then the bastard walks away and gets in the ambulance. I catch my breath as it speeds away, and try to get up.
I hear Firith, groaning in pain and holding his rib cage. "Frak You okay?" He wipes some blood from his face and manages to stand, taking small gulps of air.
"Not so much. You?" When I rub my head and lekku, blood drips on my fingers.
"'bout the same. Backstabbing motherfrakker."
"You knew that arsehole?"
"Used to." He takes my hand and helps me up. "Let's get outta here." In the distance, the ambulance's sirens howl.
Feels weird being Firith now. "I told my cousin the same thing."
"There's soldiers everywhere. And drones in the sky. The PF is bad enough. They're cruel thugs. Killing a Twi'lek is sport for them. But it's not just them now. It's Butcher Lachesis. The PF can be bribed to look the other way. The KEC can't."
"Get kicked around by the thugs in black long enough and you'll notice they're just as dirty. The price is just higher," I retort as I steer the groundcar past ramshackle buildings. Most windows are either broken or boarded up. A body hangs from a lamp post. Well, what's left of it. The crows have been eating their fill. Was this the woman I saw being lynched? I suppress a shudder.
"I'm serious, Shakka," Lena says irritably.
"Me, too, good-sister in spirit. Me, too," I bite back. "You saw what just happened. Hell, see that body over there? Could be you one day. Probably will be. You want your kid to...grow up here?"
She's quiet for a moment. "No. But I want him to live," she sighs. "I assume you have a plan. Let me guess, it involves that Zeltron hussy Firith works for." She evidently notices my surprise, and snorts. "My husband doesn't have secrets from me. I know what he does to help put food on the table. We can't be picky about how we get it."
"Well, that's good. Makes things less awkward. "Supposed to help us get an in with the Guard."
"The Guard, of course."
"Our great and noble saviours," I roll my eyes. "If you're useful to them." And if one of our guys happens to get blown up by one of their roadside bombs, that's tough. Ditto if they stage a hit on a humie patrol and the Vaderites wipe out an alien village that just happens to be nearby. But, look, since all your family was murdered, why don't you join the Guard and get revenge? They people's army is recruiting. It makes the bile rise up in me. I try to swallow my bitterness.
"You're bartering," Lena realises. "You're using your access to a Disciple to give them information they want." Her eyes widen. "Shakka, you're not going to help them carry out a hit, are you?"
"No," I say quickly. "Just information."
"If they want you to plant something in KEC headquarters, arrange a distraction, whatever – don't do it! You'll die. They have a Sith holding court. And there'll be reprisals. That raid you saw was bad enough. When I was in the prison, people were being beaten and shot throughout the night. I heard the screams. When the humies got drunk, they grabbed some prisoners in my cell at random and beat them, while we had to watch. They burnt a Twi'lek's hands so bad the skin was peeled off. They...said they had Twi'lek gloves now." She takes a breath. "At midnight, they dragged me and a little girl out into the courtyard. One man held a gun to my throat. He was drunk. I thought I was going to die. He fired. It was a blank. They killed the girl. Her blood...her blood was splattered across my face."
"I'm sorry."
She wipes tears from her eye. "Imagine what they'll do if one of their bigwigs is attacked."
Look, all I'm going to do is give them info about where Bakios has been hiding his shit before the humies get it."
"Alright." The road is bumpy and the groundcar wobbles a bit. But we've reached her place. "If we manage to get out, there may still be reprisals."
"I know...but they don't need a reason to murder people. And here we are, home, not so sweet home, I guess." I stop the groundcar and get out.
Her shoulders slump. "They'll call me a spy," she says as she disembarks, and gives me a look. She looks agitated, twitching slightly. Her eyes sweep over the street, like she's scared someone will suddenly pounce. "We must spread word of what your Master said. Keep people away from the hospital. Best leave out the part about hearing it from the 'kindly Sith'. We overheard KEC goons bragging about it."
"And no mention of 'kindly Sith' setting you free," I mutter. A corpse still lies on the street, stripped of all possessions. Two crows are picking off flesh.
"Yes." She knocks on the door. Two quick knocks. "It's me...Lena." A hard knock. The door opens just a bit, but a big Gungan stands in the doorway, blocking us. He looks familiar. But there's a bruise on his face that wasn't there before.
He holds a knife in his hand. The Gungan looks like he's seen a ghost when he stares at Lena. "Lena..the PF nabbed you. What are you doing here?"
"I...I got lucky."
"One night in a PF dungeon and back already?" he sneers at her.
"I didn't betray us, Taroq! What do you think happened in prison? We Twi'lek are the last people humies treat with kid's gloves."
"And I know people do anything to get out. Just one night. Must have been really good...or really bad, if they let you go afterwards. Even brought the humie pet." Lena's cheeks are red with shame and anger.
The one thing that pisses me off more than this crap is that I know I'd do the same as him. My hands are clenched into fists. I'm fuming. "Hey, who you're calling humie pet? Lena..."
"I'll handle this, Shakka. They let me go because I had dirt on Bakios and one of the humies wanted him gone to make herself look good."
"Bakios?"
"Word must've travelled down the grapevine. He's outta the picture," I interject.
"And the KEC's here instead," he says pointedly.
Lena takes a step forward. "I belong here. And I want to see my son. I need to."
"Go up," the Gungan cuts her off, stepping aside with a sigh. "No guarantees you'll be allowed to stay. Your husband's here, too."
"Firith?"
"Won't be allowed to stick around. Think your cot's taken."
"I figured," she says flatly.
Sighing, he steps aside. Then suddenly we hear shouting coming from inside. "You frakking thief!" Hearing the angry voice, Taroq grunts. "Not again."
Many faces I saw during my first visit are gone. A lump forms in my throat when I realise that most will not. In the unlikely event that anyone else gets released, they'll just go back to die later. Either by collapsing in the field, being shot for 'breaking curfew' or simply to waste away here. Most of those I see in the tiny, dirty rooms or corridors look sick or injured. Some have faces marked by rashes. As Lena and I pass, a few non-Twi'lek shoot us hostile glances.
Here and there, I them mutter. "Lena, you're back!", "how'd she get out?" "humie spy," "whore." I see her tense and she looks like she's about to confront one of them. "Not now," I hiss to her in a whisper.
Lena stops when a Mon Calamari woman calls her name. "Lena! Do...do you know what happened to my Roalaa?" she asks her pleadingly.
"I'm sorry, he...he didn't..." Lena stammers, reaches out to take the woman's hand. "They killed him..."
"No, no." Tears run down the Mon Cal's face. "And they let you out! Why?"
"Shih, wait..." But she's already turned away, crying.
I take Lena by the arm and lead her further inside. As I walk through the corridor, I stumble over a sleeping Zabrak, and hit the floor hard. "Sorry, sorry," I say quickly, getting to my feet. No response. She's thin as a rail. "Hey, you..." I shake the body a bit. Then I freeze when I realise she's cold, and not breathing.
Lena looks close to tears. "No, that was Levrae," she says sadly. "Her father's...still imprisoned. Frak. He asked me to look out for her," she sighs. "Hey, that girl here is dead..."
"Let's go," I tug her by the shoulder. We get away as quickly as we can. One of the residents has noticed the body and picks it up.
Then I suddenly catch sight of a blue Twi'lek male, throwing a punch at a Rodian. "Thief!" he yells. "Give it to me!" he punches a Rodian in the face, then shoves him into the wall. He seems to be trying to grab something, but the Rodian bites his hand and then kicks him. "Leave me alone, wormie! It's mine!" People move out of the way as they beat on each other. I grab a hold of Lena's shoulder before she can step in.
Just as they are in the middle of facing off against each other, the old Mon Calamari hastens between them, looking out of breath. "Do you really have to do the humie's jobs for them?" he yells. The Twi'lek tries to get around him but Tarog seizes him from behind. "Stay put," he growls.
"Now what the hell's this about?"
"I was just minding my own business. Then he attacks me!" the Rodian exclaims.
"I was out in the fields, working all day. Then I come and see sucker-face strut around with my chrono," the Twi'lek snarls. "He won't give it back."
"You lie, wormhead," the Rodian fires back. "It's mine. I found it. No way a Twi'lek would be given a chrono."
"Alright, both of you calm down. Where'd you get it from, Abez?" the Mon Calamari says tiredly.
"From my family. It's a heirloom. Aramgir, it's the only thing I've got left from my parents. But he just had to steal it."
"Can you prove it's yours? Got an engraving or something?"
"No," the Twi'lek sighs. "Look, it's mine. You know how the humies are. I couldn't show it off or they'd call me a thief and shoot me."
Aramgir looks at the Rodian. "Liung?"
"He can't prove anything. I found it, it's mine. And he just attacked me."
"Taroq, let him go. How important is this thing to you? Important enough to fight over it while so many of our friends are in jail and we don't know if any of us will be alive in a month?" the Mon Calamari asks intently. The Twi'lek looks down. The Rodian glares at them, but slips the chrono off and tosses it to the floor. "Fine. I probably can't get batteries for it anyway," he growls and walks away.
The Mon Calamari picks it up with a frustrated sigh. "Abez, I hate to say it but..."
"You want to give it up."
"Look around you. We were barely scraping by before the Butcher came. People are collapsing in their cots and dying. People are offering their kids to humie thugs! We need anything we can trade. Every valuable, every heirloom helps."
Abez looks at him sceptically. "You really want to barter it for the 'good of the community'?"
"Abez, I'm old. Chances are I won't be around for long. What point would there be for me to hoard it?"
And then I hear a familiar voice from further down the corridor. "I know a dealer." Firith steps in. "May I?" he asks. Aramgir glowers at him. "Just taking a look. Hmm doesn't look bad. Enough to barter." He hands it to the Mon Calamari. Then he sees Lena and sputters. "Love...I thought...I thought I'd never..."
"Firith...I...," Lena takes a deep breath, looking like she's struggling not to rush towards him. Composing herself, she looks at the two. "Aramgir is a good man. You can trust him. We're all in this together."
He narrows his eyes. "All in this together – curious that you'd say that. You're back already. No one else is."
Firith glares at him. "Are you calling my wife a collaborator, Abez?"
"Enough! I just broke up one fight. I won't have you two start another, so calm down," Aramgir growls at them.
"Sell the chrono. I haven't forgotten where my people stand." Abez stalks off.
Aramgir shakes his head, pockets the chrono and looks at us. "Lena...and Shakka, was it? Come with me."
"I'm coming with her," Firith insists.
"Alright."
We fall in line. But as we walk Firith suddenly stops and pulls Lena into a hug. "I thought I'd lost you," he exclaims. "What did those bastards do to you?"
"I'm back now...and we're together. Is Jela alright?"
Firith looks sad. "Tired. He had to work in the fields. I bribed one of the pigs to put him in my work crew and give him light work. He got out early, love."
"Where's he now?"
"With some other kids. Some folks got grabby fingers, but I salvaged some of your stuff. Luckily I didn't leave the special stash here." He glances at me. "Cuz, thanks for everything."
"Let's not get the champagne bottles out yet," I joke lamely.
He gives me his usual big brother look. "You alright? You got mixed up in this PF business?"
"No big deal. We still got more drama ahead of us."
We find ourselves in the room where I first brought met Aramgir. Taroq takes up position at the door. "When I saw the humies force you into that van, I thought you were gone for good, Lena," Aramgir speaks, looking all grave.
"So did I," she fidgets a bit. "I don't know what happened to Bola. Last I saw her one of the goons dragged her away. I didn't see her again. Shakka, do you know more? She's the Rodian who was on the committee with us."
I try to think back to our visit to the jail. "She was being dragged to interrogation. Don't know more. Wait, I think the goon was the Gamorrean who's my Master's bodyguard."
Aramgir rubs his bald, domed head. "If she's not out now, she won't be getting out. Which begs the question of why you were released." The Mon Cal stares at Lena, his large, gray eyes boring into her.
"She said something about helping them screw over Bakios, boss," Taroq speaks, looking sceptically at her.
"I told them about a grain container."
"And Shakka and me digged up some dirt about how he's been feathering his nest," Firith states, whereupon I nod.
"How'd you get the information?" Aramgir asks.
Cuz shrugs. "Channels you don't want to know about."
"You buy this, boss? We got the rules for a reason," Taroq throws in.
Aramgir rubs his temples. "If there's one thing the Vaderites love as much as stomping on us, it's eating each other. You can stay – for now. You'll face a vote."
"Of course, thank you, Aramgir," Lena takes a deep breath. "There's something else you have to know."
"Something from her Sith master?" he turns his large, grey eyes to me.
"No, something we overheard some KEC goons brag about," I respond.
"They want to clear the hospital," Lena explains. "By that I mean kill the sick, anyone they think is a 'useless eater'."
"Frak," Firith slams his hand onto the table. "Butcher Lachesis wants to continue what she started."
"They haven't squeezed us enough for that…yet," Aramgir retorts. "They'll wait with killing everyone till then."
"Then it's the first step. How many of us will be by the end of the year?"
"I've been through this before. The Vaderites didn't bring enough manpower to slaughter the whole city They'd need the PF to do the legwork. They do things slice by slice. Divide and conquer. Do you know if they're going for all the sick or are they targeting specific groups?"
I shake my head. "No idea. But we know who's on their shit list."
"Nass was a Gungan, and Twi'leks, Togruta and Mon Cal are their favourite bogeymen," Lena says.
"How much time do we have?" he asks her.
"They didn't say, but from the looks of it not much."
Taroq suddenly retrieves a piece of paper. It's a picture. He hands it to me, and I freeze when I see the face. The same smug, gap-toothed smile, the sadistic look. "There's been rumours about him being around. You seen him at KEC Central?" the Gungan asks.
"Yes," I swallow, "yes, he's there."
"Show me," Firith demands. "Who is he? What did he do to you?"
"Doesn't matter. He's a KEC scumbag. Name's Mengales or something."
"Menkales," Taroq says with a snarl. "Progress inmates know him as the Angel of Death. Anyone who falls into his hands is better off dead. The world is his lab and we're the guinea pigs." He points to the scars on his face. "He wanted to see how we respond to different types of liquid. Or he just felt like it. So he submerged Gungans in oil."
"Frak." He was in Progress. He suffered under that monster. I just thought he was being a jerk to me. Frak.
"I got lucky. He grew bored before he could try out the acid bath. His goons had a Twi'lek for him. I don't know the details of what he did to her. It was days until I saw her again…when she flung herself at the electrified fence. Her right lek was gone. When he saw her, all inmates in the section had to assemble and stand outside for hours from morning till night – during a heat wave. No food, no water, if someone got tired they were beaten."
Lena's lip trembles a bit. "I…caught a glimpse of him while I was imprisoned by the KEC. He was touring the cells. Some prisoners were dragged out for him. He came to my cell. He didn't do anything, just…stared. Like he was staring a piece of meat. I heard him mutter 'if only you were red'." Hearing that makes a shudder run down my spine.
"Did he -?" Firith starts. "If you need a moment…"
She shakes her head. "A guard told him he couldn't see me without the Disciple's permission…We have to spread word that the hospital's not safe."
"Starting with the wounded in this block, then spread out. Tell them to hide. But be smart about it. We can't cause a panic and tip the Vaderites off," Aramgir states. "Taroq, you know your way around the district?"
"I'll hit the road."
"We also have people in the hospital."
"We're not going there, Lena. The Vaderites won't release you a second time," Firith insists.
"If it's not under lockdown now, it will be soon," Aramgir tells her. "We've got…let them go."
Lena opens her mouth, closes it and nods. Firith takes her hand. "Yes…we have to," she finally says. "I can go with Taroq when we're done here. Firith…is there any way for people who need medication to get it through your…contacts?"
"Not at prices they can afford, love. Little supply, lot of demand, and lots of danger since the Butcher came to town. The smugglers are scared," he frowns. "I know of a medicine woman though. A Gamorrean."
I snort. "A Gamorrean? Really? The pigs are the boot stompin' on our face. Collabs, the lot of them."
"They're bastards, but beggars can't be choosers," Aramgir interrupts. "What's her name?"
"Iggirc."
"Alright. I'll make a list of people who need urgent help and take it to her. I figure you got things to talk about," he glances at Lena.
"Yes…I need to see my son, find my things and get my cot back. Or find somewhere else to sleep."
"Sort it out between yourselves. Civilly." Aramgir sounds weary. His skin looks old and leathery. Firith, Lena and me head out.
"Firith, can you fetch Jela? Shakka and I'll check out my cot. If I'm lucky, whoever's taken it also has my things and hasn't bartered them yet."
"Yell if there's trouble."
Off we go, through increasingly crowded corridors. But what we see when we find the room isn't what expect. Lena navigates the bodies lying in the room. The air is stale. "Ahem, excuse me," she clears her throat. "That's my cot," she says sharply.
The person lying in it turns. I gasp when I see her. The Nautolan's tendrils are badly burnt. Even the haphazardly applied bandages can't hide it. "Lena?" she asks groggily. "I thought you were done for."
"Awinn? What happened to you?" Lena asks in shock.
"Oil from a mechanical thresher," Awinn sits up, wincing in pain. "I'm very sorry about taking your spot. I just really needed somewhere to crash and you, well, people normally don't come back when the humies nab them. I'm gonna be moved to the hospital soon. I heard they brought in fresh blankets and filled up their stock of painkillers."
"No, no…you can stay," Lena says quickly. "Don't feel bad, and don't go to the hospital!"
"What do you mean? What's wrong?"
"Keep the noise down," someone groans.
Ignoring whoever it is, Lena sits down next to Awinn. "The hospital's not safe," she says quietly. "The humies are going to round up patients to kill them."
"You're serious. I believe you. What…what should we do? It…hurts."
"Aramgir knows someone who can help. Make sure he knows."
"I will," Awinn sits up, wincing in pain. Then her eyes widen in shock. "Frak. Iacenda's there!" she shouts. Some others in the room stir. "What the hell's that noise?" one yells. It's too dark for me to tell who.
"Sh, sorry," Lena says placatingly. She takes Awinn's hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't think."
"She has a chest infection. It got pretty bad," the Nautolan shaking. "I have to tell her."
"Lena, listen to me, if you go there, you'll die," she puts a hand on the uninjured side of her face.
"I can't just...give up on her."
"It's a one way trip there."
"Then at least she won't be alone."
"Shakka?" she calls to me.
I step towards them. "I had a friend once back in the ghetto. A Trandoshan. Her name was Vrerkh. She was my best friend, big sister, guardian. Then...the Vaderites murered her." My voice threatens to crack. I won't cry. "Her last words were that I should live. Someone had to." My hands clench into fists. "These bastards want to kill us all. We have to live...if only to spite them."
Her shoulders slump. "I'm sorry Ia." Tears are running down her face. "Check under the cot. There's a box. Most of your stuff was gone when I came here, but I kept what was left."
Lena fetches the box and looks through it. I see her clutch a locket, and I catch a glimpse of a picture of Firith. "Oh, thank you, Awinn. Thank you."
"Least I could do."
I reach into my pocket. "Here, for you," I drop a few Imperial Credits into her hand. They're not worth the paper they're printed on, but it's something. Something to get you through this hell for a little bit longer. "Take them." She looks at the credits in surprise, then smiles. "Thanks. That's kind of you."
"Us xenos got to stick together and piss off the humies by not being polite enough to die."
She sniffs. "To hell with them. All of them."
"We resist every moment we breathe and say we're sentient, no matter how many times they try to slaughter us like beasts," Lena says. "I'll be back later, Awinn." As we leave the room, I hear Awinn sob. Holding the box, Lena walks out with me. "Awinn Tektu. Can you…mention her to your Master?" she whispers. "She mentioned she wanted people for a factory, didn't she?"
"Yeah, textiles, clothing."
"Awinn's good at maintenance. She'd probably do a better job than those 'superior' humie engineers."
"I'll tell her when I'm back. Anyone else?"
Lena frowns. "Off the top of my head – Dia Nilim. She's young, but I know her mother taught her about sewing. Poor kid. Orsk Fiteth, a Bothan, and Wrea Akkor, a Rodian. They know a bit about machines. I'll tell Aramgir to…reach out and to talk to other block committee heads. Whatever happens, I can do this at least."
Then a little ball of energy races towards them. "Momma!" Suddenly Lena's boy has wrapped his arms around her in a fierce bear hug.
"Sh," she brings her finger to her lips. "These people are trying to rest. Awinn is in a bad way."
"Sorry," he says sheepishly. "I..just when those humie arseholes took you, I thought I'd…never see you again."
She hugs him close. "It's okay, everything's alright, I'm back. No one's going to take me away again." He sniffs a bit. "Did they hurt you?"
"Let's not speak of what happened, just look forward."
"We're all gonna be together now? Daddy, too."
"We're family, we'll stay, together," Firith reassures him.
"Good. I don't want those arseholes to take you."
"They won't…but we must be very careful. And mind your language, young man," Lena says sternly.
"But that's what they are, momma."
"Don't look at me," Firith chuckles a bit. "I'm always a model of good manners around him."
I just can't let that slide and elbow him lightly. "Uh-huh."
"You're supposed to back me up, coz." He pats Jela on the shoulder. "Your momma's very brave. She stood up to the bad men. You remember Shakka? She helped get her out."
"Yes!" he looks at me a bit shyly. "Daddy told me all about you! He said you're real cool and helped bust momma out. Can I call you 'Auntie'?"
"Sure, always wanted to have a nephew."
And then he sees the damn collar. "You're a slave. I'm sorry." Simple, innocent words from a kid. They shouldn't affect me like they do.
"Don't be sorry, not your fault."
"I wish you were free and not a slave of these ar…," I can tell what the boy's about to say, but he bites his tongue, "evil humies."
Firith squats down to be on the same level as Jel. "We'd all like that. But you must be careful with what you say and where. Things are very dangerous now, and I don't know when they'll get better. We'll get through it, but for that we have to stick together and watch out. Understood?"
"Got it. I…won't let you down."
"I know you won't. You're a good boy, so proud of you."
"Firith, Shakka mentioned you had a new employment opportunity. Something to help us get through these difficult times. I think you should really look into our options." Lena glances to Firith. Her expression is grave. "We must all stick together."
I blink, then I understand what she's getting at. A ghost of a smile dances on Firith's face for a short moment. "Yes, you got it. I, um, have an appointment soon."
"I was going to tag along. You know, help with my owner's connections. I got, um, a reference."
"Then there's no time to waste. Opportunities like this come and go." Her gaze settles on me. "We're family. All four of us."
"Yes, we are," I look at Jela. "Take care of your momma, little man."
"I will. You take care, too."
I pat his head. Firith gives Lena a hug and a kiss. As we head out, I catch a glimpse of Lena taking Jela aside and whispering: "You need to listen very carefully. You can't say anything around the humies or their goons, but you must tell your friends…"
"So, um, our appointment," I mutter to Firith as we head for the door.
"Yes. You brought a 'reference'."
"All about how great a worker you are. There's no better one. You'll be a great asset for the factory."
"The very best." The door creaks open, and we walk out. It's getting dark.
"Curfew's coming, we got no time to waste," Firith says.
"Do we have a long way to go?"
"Not much. That's your car?" I nod. "Leave it. Folks might get twitchy seeing a groundcar with the KEC logo. I'll do the talking. You show them the goods, but let's not drop it into their lap too easily. Or we'll look desperate."
"We are desperate."
"Too desperate."
And so make our way past decrepit buildings and dirty streets. When we cross the road after having left the block, we suddenly hear the deafening wail of sirens. Frak, it's the PF! Firith grabs me and we duck in an alley behind some garbage. The sirens are so loud I must clamp down on the urge to cover my ears. Firith peers out. "That's…an ambulance."
I look up. "As big as a bus." Our eyes lock. My blood runs cold. It's already starting.
Then we hear a voice through a loudspeaker. "We're here for anyone who's ill or has been seriously hurt. The Rising Hope Medical Facility has received fresh bed clothes, and a full stock of medical supplies. Every patient will get a fresh meal. Refusal will be penalised, so do the right thing for your family and your community."
"Bastards." The bile rises inside me. "Look, one of them is a Twi'lek," I point at the lackey yelling through the loudspeaker. Of course. Gotta reassure the lambs while you lead them to the slaughterhouse.
"Frakking collabs," Firith grunts. "We can't stop them. Come." But I hear the sound of metal clicking against the pavement. Turning I see a Rodian hobbling on crutches. His gaze is fixated on the huge ambulance. "Friend, what's going on?" he calls to us.
"Get away, it's a trap!" Firith shouts to make himself heard over the noise. "Don't listen to them."
But the collabs have spotted us. The Twi'lek lackey and two big Houk goon quickly crosses over to us. Firith blinks when he sees him. "Day'lec?"
"Firith, what are you doing here? Staying out of trouble?"
"Doing my best. Just on my way to the labour office. What's all this about?"
"Doing my duty, my friend." The lackey turns his gaze to the Rodian. "Comrade, we're here to help. You're a worker?"
"Yeah, just heading home, doctor. I have my papers right here, and a certificate from my supervisor," he coughs.
The schutta gives him a fake smile. "No need for that, comrade. We're here for you. You shouldn't have to work in your state. Come, we can help you."
"You're a frakking liar," I snarl at him.
"Please, sister, we're all in the same boat."
"Didn't the KEC just confiscate Rising Hope's supplies to help their wounded?" Firith asks pointedly. "Come on, Day'lec, you have so few supplies you have to get them through…unofficial channels. Humies don't share. Your hospital's packed. I know this guy. He's productive. Just…leave him."
"Yes…I do support work for his crew. So thanks, but I'll pass. I'm not feeling that bad, doctor. I've been feeling a lot better. I don't want to take a bed from someone who really needs it. I'm supposed to show up to work first thing in the morning," the Rodian says firmly and tries to turn. But the Houk thug blocks his path and puts a hand on his shoulder.
"You want help," the thug grunts.
"The orders come straight from the Health Authority."
"Damn it, you know what the humies want," Firith growls. "What happened to the guy who stole painkillers for the poor sods who couldn't afford to go to the hospital? Are you that much of a bootlicker now?"
"You really should come with us," the blood traitor says in that faux nice voice.
"How do you even live with yourself? Doing the humies' dirty work. It's bad enough when they do it," I point at his attack dog, "but one of us?"
And the mask falls. "Listen to me carefully," the doctor says flatly, all trace of faux kindness gone from him. "The patient is going to the hospital to receive the best care there is. Would you really want to deny him that? We Twi'leks are a generous, obedient people, aren't we?" he turns to his two thugs. "Assist our friend here on board and get him settled. And you two…scram. I'd keep your words to yourself if I were you, others might take them as…subversive."
"Wait, I have cash…it's yours, take it..." The poor Rodian is shaking when a thug grabs him and hauls him into his ambulance. He cries out in pain, losing one of his crutches. But the thug doesn't bother pick it up. "My name's Seychi Thoska, block 007, tell my…" Then the door is slammed shut.
"Just one question: will you do that to your fellow Twi'leks, too?" Firith asks the traitorous bastard. "Because that test's coming…if it hasn't already."
"You go now," the other Houk thug growls at us. And he slams his baton into Firith's chest and shoves him into the dirt.
"Bastard!" I throw myself at the goon but he backhands me with his gauntlet. Pain explodes inside my skull and the thug grabs my lekku and squeezes. I scream in pain. My head connects with cold, hard pavement. I taste blood on my lips. Firith is down, trying to protect himself as the other brute beats on him, kicking him viciously.
"Stop!" the Twi'lek lackey snaps. Frak you, traitor. "You could never see the big picture, Firith. Don't interfere again." Then the bastard walks away and gets in the ambulance. I catch my breath as it speeds away, and try to get up.
I hear Firith, groaning in pain and holding his rib cage. "Frak You okay?" He wipes some blood from his face and manages to stand, taking small gulps of air.
"Not so much. You?" When I rub my head and lekku, blood drips on my fingers.
"'bout the same. Backstabbing motherfrakker."
"You knew that arsehole?"
"Used to." He takes my hand and helps me up. "Let's get outta here." In the distance, the ambulance's sirens howl.
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