Private Backwater Intrigues

[Aithche Wierz]

Aithche obediently let go when Aver ordered, landing back on an injured leg with a bit of a muffled squeal. She leaned against the wall, watching as the hulking mercenary removed her helmet and strode towards the bridge. She lingered in the corridor, feeling a bit like a stray dog that had been just dumped in a temporary home.

Aver seemed to remember her in an afterthought, her head poked back out and gave curt instructions. With that, the door slammed shut followed by the engines warming up. Realising Aver wasn't going to be waiting around for air traffic control, Aithche lurched toward the doorway indicated. The ship shuddered under and she half fell onto a bed.

"Medscan beginning" said a chirpy voice "Please lay down". Eying it with suspicion, she did as told only for restraints to apply "These restraints are for your safety during takeoff" continued the cheerful voice "Please remain still while the medscan is in progress".

Several mournful beeps and three robotic arms dropped from the ceiling. Her eyes bulged seeing the scalpel in one. "You have suffered several lacerations, blunt force trauma, and lost significant amounts of blood" continued the voice, sounding like it was announcing today's birthdays "A painkiller will now be administered so surgery can begin"

Aithche opened her mouth to protest but a fourth arm casually pricked her skin with a needle. She went out like a light.

The medbay got to work. Satisfied there was no fracture damage to the skull, it focused on undoing the work of Aver's hasty field medicine and replacing it with something more permanent. Shrapnel was removed and the wound sterilised before a heat seal closed it. It left a bloody Aithche snoring with drool collecting at the corner of her mouth. The medbay continued to monitor her vitals while Aver got the ship to safety.

 

[Aver Brand]

Immediately after a conflict broke out, everyone’s fingers got twitchy on ground-to-air missile systems, so higher atmo was off-limits for the moment. The flight was just short enough for Allison to get patched up.

Kway Teow wasn’t the worst backwater capital she’d seen. Coming from a lifetime where she’d spend more hours on the front than at home, that was high praise. These days, she just paid off the spaceport authority rather than carve a path into the seat of government. Turns out that had always been the more effective option, but twenty-something Vrag had plenty of hard lessons to go.

Fifty-something Aver knew to wake the spy and offer a glass of water instead of the barrel of a gun, for example. It was the small things, you know?

“Rise and shine.” She leaned on the door, all grin and crossed arms. “I was thinking late lunch and a chat.”

 

[Aithche Wierz]

Aithche slowly swam back to consciousness. The delicious blissful feeling that had sent her to sleep was now fading and leaving her with a slowly increasing pain and gnawing dread. Realisation hit her like a slap and her hand went to her side but the med droid had sterilised and sealed the wound. It still ached but she wasn't going to bleed out anytime soon and the protective dressing over it should stop it reopening.

She sat up on the medbay bed, it had raised itself to an upright position and the restraints had gone. Aver was standing in the doorway, she didn't know how long for. Inexplicably, she was smiling. Aithche scowled automatically but she had to admit that the lack of blaster sounds or ship shaking was an improvement.

"What's the cooking like on this ship?" she asked, sliding her feet over to stand up. She winced at a particularly sore throb. "Why are the engines off? Are we just drifting in space?"

 

[Aver Brand]

“My cooking’s excellent, but I can’t be arsed.” Aver shrugged, pushing off the wall to disappear back into the ship.

“We’re in the capital spaceport, Allison,” she continued, her amusement echoing down the hallways. “We’re gonna go out, grab a nice snack, see what political fallout followed the fighting…”

The mercenary reappeared in the doorway an chucked a fresh set of clothes at the spy. “…and then you’re gonna tell me what the fuck you’re doing here.”

 

[Aithche Wierz]

Aithche made a face at the trace of amusement Aver let into her voice. She'd been out cold so she could have been told they were headed into Vong space and she'd have believed her. The woman had the gall to make it sound like the two of them were best friends about to have a catch up. She caught the clothes flung at her and tried giving her best glare. Aver seemed impervious to it.

Her rescuing Aithche was going to have its price and she wasn't going to be let weasel out of it. A little resigned to it, Aithche got to dressing. The clothes were serviceable albeit well worn. Aithche looked like a typical spacer when she was dressed, not too down on her luck but not flush with cash either.

She took a pick me up with her water, cajoling it from the med droid. Just one to give her that trace of optimism and blunt any lingering aches and pains. Two would have her volunteering for charity work, a third pill would have her believing in magical rainbows on the horizon and the goodness of all humanity and alien species.

She still felt half naked without a blaster but didn't want to prompt another laugh from Aver if she asked for one. "I'm ready" she said, letting herself be shepherded off the ship.

 

[Aver Brand]

Allison was easy enough on the eyes, but Aver wasn’t about to steal glances like some shy highschooler while she changed. She’d done her fill of looking already, and there’d been nothing furtive about it. Subtle as a brick to the face. That much hadn’t changed.

“What do you go for?” the merc asked as they descended the ramp and started for the city proper. “Kebab? Burger?” A grin. “Steak?”

So far, Aver hadn’t seen anything that would inspire high hopes for a worthwhile culinary experience, but she was nothing if not open to surprises. Except the fucking mushroom beer. She’d rather take a gamble on the local water than weather another sip of that vile brew.

As they lined up for the street vendor of Allison’s choice, Aver sparked up again. Offering another cigarette to the spy, she exhaled into the sky and watched the sun bounce from the sleek speeders breezing by.

“So.” Those blue eyes rounded on the redhead again. “What kinda party are you planning to throw here?”

 

[Aithche Wierz]

Aithche rolled her eyes at Aver;s attempt at humour. Any steak to be found in the spaceport was liable to be farmed or still wriggling from whatever many limbed creature it had been cut from. "Kebab is probably safest" she groaned, resigning herself to some mystery meat but at least there might be some vegetables with it. The chaos and surgery had left her ravenous and the thought of something recently cooked was far more appetising than some spacer ration pack.

There was something off she realised as they walked towards the food stalls. The same wet hot stench to the planet but something different. It took her a couple of hundred metres to click. No beggars, would be muggers, hawkers, ambitious peddlers. Aver seemed to repel even the most ambitious of pickpockets or cutthroats.

She accepted the cigarette and smoked in companionable silence while they waited. Aver saw fit to disturb it though, reminding her they weren't two friends on a citybreak. "You don't let up do you?". She groaned as the blue eyes fixed on her.

The woman at the stall seemed human until her eyes blinked vertically rather than horizontally. Aithche made her order and a third hand unfolded from the stall seller's abdomen to assist with carving the meat off.

"This was a fact finding mission" she explained "To see if the resources needed here would be a worthwhile spend. No point getting involved in local politics if we're going to go towards a loss anyways" Aver didn't interrupt her so she continued "It's got plenty of valuable minerals and resources, you've seen how undeveloped it is. But the real gem is in the rainforests, the moss. You've heard of anti-agathics right?"

 

[Aver Brand]

No matter the oceans of time and credits that now separated her from the street, its grime still clung to her in all the deep places. Questionable meat on a skewer was a guilty pleasure even today. She scarfed it down in the time it took Allison to scrape together her answer.

Aver considered her unlikely companion as she licked her fingers clean. Grease, tibanna, dried blood – the aftertaste of every good post-shootout meal. What was an everyday occurrence in her early life was now a rare annual delicacy at best. She savored the flavors with a long sigh before starting the arduous process of tonguing at the stringy meat stuck between her teeth.

“Sure,” she replied at length, having waited for the spook to finish her food. She was mercenary, not barbarous. “And? What facts did you find?”

 

[Aithche Wierz]

If she was a little miffed at the lack of amazement then she hid it well. "Well the moss growing in large sections of the primeval forests here is ideal for use at it, particularly with human or near-human species. We're not the shortest lived species in the galaxy but we're not the longest either. It's ideal for rejuvenation treatments and far more cost effective than some of the alternatives".

She didn't comment on the obvious that she had probably taken three days off her own life by tearing into the kebab. "The elite of any world would pay for that. Kuat, Coruscant, Thyferra. Who wants to grow old and infirm? A few grams of that moss is probably worth your weight in gold".

She winced "I hope you've antibacterials on board your ship because I don't want to have the runs later from eating this".

 

[Aver Brand]

“Sounds like a lucrative crop,” Aver gave an absent nod. Absent in part because it wouldn’t do to seem too intrigued, but mostly because she was running over the list of people who should’ve done their research on this planet’s riches and clearly hadn’t been thorough enough.

But that was for another day.

“Probably,” she said, turning back to the operative after waving down a taxi. “But I’ve got the feeling we’re gonna stick around a while. Better get used to the local cuisine, hm?”

With a laugh, Aver shoved them both into the speeder and slammed the door closed. After a rapid fire conversation in huttese they were off, piercing the low-hanging smog to ascend towards the downtown district.

“I figure between the two of us we can get a couple meetings with the local Chamber of Commerce, don’t you think?” Her gaze flickered from her dusty armor to Allison’s spacer-chic, “After we get cleaned up, anyway.”

Surely there was at least one tailor on this godforsaken rock.

 

[Aithche Wierz]

Aithche half wished for bland tasting military rations. At least then she wasn't going to be risking food poisoning. There was always a transition period on a new planet while the body got used to new micro organisms and bacteria but she wasn't sure she'd be used to them even after a decade here. She gave a little yelp as she was shoved into the speeder ahead of Aver.

She scooted across the seat fast rather than have Aver's bulk crash into her. She listened with a frown as Aver spoke in Huttese. She'd had classes on it at the Academy but never done well in them. "Chamber of Commerce?" the first thing she'd spoken in a while. Her brain was trying to process what Aver was planning. "What the bloody hell for? What are you planning?"

 

[Aver Brand]

“Nothing’s fixed yet.” The merc glanced at the spy. “You never finished your little chat, did you? Poor bastard got blown to pieces. And I figure if we massage enough people, that Dojenne character might get nervous enough to… reach out.”

She turned her gaze back to the vista breezing past the rear windows. It was strange to see ferrocrete skyscrapers glitter in the late evening sun only a few miles away from the humid jungle that covered the rest of the planet. It was like a little pocket of civilization carved out from the covetous fingers of nature.

A bit like Iziz on Onderon, actually.

The thought prompted a genuine smile, though it didn’t linger long. Soon enough they were deposited on one of the fenced walkways high above the rabble, sticking out like two sore thumbs among the suits rushing to and fro.

It wasn’t long until they barged into the shop of the sole clothier of repute in these parts, Aver laying out her tailoring specifications before she’d fully reached the counter. The twi’lek attendant blinked owlishly at the armored intrusion before turning her wide gaze at Allison behind her.

“Um… and yourself, madam?”

 

[Aithche Wierz]

"Doyenne" Aithche said on automatic reflex to correct the pronunciation. Her mind was still scrambling to keep up with Aver. Her appearance suggested she'd go all in on a frontal assault but now it seemed the mercenary had knowledge of guile and subtlety as well. It was hard to imagine the brute with her engaged in diplomatic small talk and corporate warfare.

The capital had all the charm she expected from a provincial backwater like Foruaine. Uninhabited for millennia, it had only attracted settlers again in the last few centuries and the capital was benefiting from the latest frenzy of development, safety regulations, planning permissions, and import taxes all being waived where appropriate.

Aithche gawked along with the twi'lek at Aver's surprisingly detailed clothing requirements. She was caught off guard by the question directed to her and cleared her throat. "I-" she began in Basic before looking up at her companion "What sort of event is this?"

 

[Aver Brand]

One armored shoulder raised and fell in answer to Allison’s question. “Event? Nothing specific yet, but doesn’t hurt to be prepared for the worst. Make like we’re going to end up at a state dinner and work back from there.”

Aver would’ve preferred to sort this from the jungle-end, carving out a quiet spot far away from prying corporate eyes, but she’d clearly underestimated the amount of foreign interests already on the ground.

No matter. She’d always been good at thinking on her feet.

“Can your tailoring accommodate for a shoulder holster?”

“What?” The twi’lek attendant whipped her gaze back to the mercenary with a growing look of panic. Aver sighed and waved the question away. Serves her right for not bringing her own formal duds on the ship.

 

[Aithche Wierz]

Aithche's mind clicked into gear and several possibilities crossed her mind. She began to order something business like before picking a second option, a bit less off the rail and more suited for ballroom dancing than business negotiation. Her look was defensive "Well there's no one size fits all option for this".

A grimace as the Twi'lek looked panicked, Aver showing less tact than previously. Aithche force a laugh and casually slipped an arm into Aver's, the other hand patting her armoured bicep. "Oh please don't mind my companion" she said gaily, "She simply means a pouch or carrying device. She frequently needs to conduct work of a technical nature and formal wear pockets aren't suited-I mean it just would make it bulge most unsightly, don't you agree?"

The Twi'lek didn't look convinced but Aithche pressed, injected just a sliver of steel with the silk. "We'd be most grateful" she purred, mentally increasing the price by another 10%. Screw it, it was Aver's money, not hers. "Isn't that right dear?"

 

[Aver Brand]

The mercenary was content to hang back on the edges of the tense conversation, watching the scene play out with a faint smirk to her mouth. Allison certainly had a mouth on her, that much was obvious. A mouth worth paying for, if she were to quantify this, business-like.

“Of course, darling,” Aver returned, saccharine even as she flashed pearly fangs at the redhead. “Remind me again, why did we pick this backwater for our anniversary getaway?”

Two could play this game. Nether, the merc had once spent the better part of an evening pretending to be in a loveless marriage with a stranger, and that had been the height of entertainment despite the efforts of the fighters murdering each other in the ring five paces away.

And then Beatrice had to go and ruin it all by being her brother’s “it’s complicated”.

Oh, well. Let no-one ever say that rediscovering her family hadn’t spiced up her life.

 

[Aithche Wierz]

Aithche's smile slipped just a little as Aver flashed teeth that were just a bit too large. She'd seen worse of course but the creatures with fangs usually had the good grace to look suitably monstrous with it. The twi'lek looked a bit uncertain but the twin offensive of charm and extra credits overwhelmed her sense of panic or civic duty and she disappeared into the back to make arrangements.

Aithche slipped out of the arm almost instantly, a scowl flashing back on her face. "Can we have a little subtlety please? Are you going to ask her to make sure any footwear can accommodate sheathes? Or that a handbag will be long enough for a sawn-off shotgun? Maybe a bra that can fit grenades in it?" She threw her hands up in the air as if to ask the stars to preserve her from amateurs. "She looked like she was about to piss herself. Or run for law enforcement"

 

[Aver Brand]

A bra that could fit grenades? Now there’s an idea. She filed it away to share with R&D later as she met Allison’s annoyance with a placid smile. “And how’s going around unarmed worked out for you?”

Aver would never pick words over a knife as her weapon of choice, but she’d certainly come a long way from her days as the Hand. She shrugged on the loose fabric as the twi’lek came back with their first fits, silently taking the measurements as the little tailor drones buzzed around them.

“See? She’s fine. Credits make everything go down easy.” Her mild expression sharpened to an edge again as she caught Allison’s eye. “Even principles.”

 

[Aithche Wierz]

Aver's placid smile was greeted with Aithche baring her teeth in a grimace. She did not like being unarmed. It wouldn't have improved her chances much against Aver but there was a reassurance to having a weapon on your hip. Aver likewise wasn't a fool. Physically, Aithche wasn't much of a threat but why risk trusting her with a weapon yet?

"I'm not sure if I need one when I've a big brute to block any blaster or blade" she shot back. Childish but the momentary sense of satisfaction made it worth it. The flash in Aver's eyes gave her pause though, the glimpse of her true nature was enough to make the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

"I don't see you as the type to work for altruistic reasons. Are you on this planet pro bono?"

 

[Aver Brand]

The merc scoffed, raising and lowering her arms as needed out of habit. In her line of work, suits were a temporary commodity. She went to a lot of fittings.

“I’m working for Nadir,” she reiterated the lie from their conversation in the Felucian jungle. Well, not a lie, exactly, but certainly a perversion of truth. Nadir worked for her.

Her stark blue eyes followed the twi’lek as she moved on to Allison, urging the woman to adjust her posture for the measurements.

“They want to secure some mining rights,” Aver laid the next brick in her tower of lies, shifting a little as the sartorial drones draped the adjusted fabric over her shoulders. The deposits of minerals and ore supposedly cradled by the jungle soil seemed rich enough to warrant a look at least, which was the part that sold the lie. But what she really wanted was the land itself, and the nysillin farmers that it could support.

Lower investment costs on her side, quicker to get going, and pharmaceuticals hardly had any price ceiling to speak of.

“And your mission, operative?” she shot back across the bow as he twi’lek flitted back to the redhead.

Aithche Wierz