One Small Favor

[Caulder Dune]

Smuggler’s Run
Skip 72

Adekos did not like the concept of shadowports. Criminals, pirates, and smugglers all colluding together in secretive ports to conduct their dastardly business. It did not sit well with him. Adekos prefered clean crimes, like laundering money and blackmailing people. The crimes committed here were not clean in any sense of the word. Adekos, fortunately, was not here to commit crimes. He was here to meet a broker of rare artifacts, relics, and other such trinkets.

The Ismaren Scrolls dated back to the Draggulch Period and chronicled the secrets of Belia Darzu. Where her holocron could not be obtained, these scrolls would have to do. As a matter of fact, the scrolls had no official name. Adekos had simply taken to calling them the Ismaren Scrolls because they were most famously obtained by Roganda Ismaren to train her son, Irek Ismaren, in the art of Mechu-Deru.

Unfortunately, Irek was a glorified lobotomite with severe limitations on what he could accomplish. The scrolls were wasted on him, and his mother wasted by him. It was all very tragic, but centuries after being confiscated by an ancient Jedi Order, they had resurfaced. Since they were not of particular note to most Sithlings, they were only exchanged between collectors and thieves. The sort of people who were fascinated with the Sith and their history, but either could not or did not want to join their ranks.

And Adekos could hardly blame them for that.

Now the Ismaren Scrolls were in the hands of an artifact broker here on Skip 72. The broker, a Devaronian male by the name of Legau, was more than willing to part with them. All Adekos had to do was negotiate a price. Which brought him to Legau’s cluttered, poorly lit “office.”

“Do you have the scrolls?” Adekos immediately said after stepping through the door. He didn’t want to linger here.

“Yeees.” The Devaronian said, stroking his chin. “Baht. Are joo weeling to pay?”

Why did it seem that every time Adekos left the Lucrehulk, the person he met up with spoke like a cartoon character?

“Money is no object. I'll pay you enough that even your grandchildren won't need to work a day in their lives.”

Legau raised an eyebrow. The masked Sith had money. Better to not ask too much for it, then. In fact, he could probably endear himself if he gave it away for free. Brokering artifacts would be much easier if he had a Sith to buy them from.

“I’ll maek joo a deal.” Legau said, leaning forward conspiratorially. “One small favor, and thee scools are jours. For free.”

Before Adekos could respond, Legau rose from his seat and vanished behind the stacks of crates and boxes that filled his office practically to the ceiling. He returned moments later, setting a decently sized crate on the desk in front of Adekos. The Umbaran peered down through his mask at the crate, which was battered and clearly neglected.

“Deese are tablets. Written in ancient Kubaz. I need them translateed. Deliver dem to my friend on Kubindi, and de scrolls are jours.”

“Fine.” He had reservations about running an errand for the Devaronian, but it would save him a great deal of money. It sounded a simple enough task on its own. A few days trip back and forth if he stuck to the hyperlanes. He could use the Star Yacht he intended as a for his apprentice before she ditched him.

Once he inspected the scrolls himself to make certain their authenticity, Adekos left. He also made sure to leave an HRD agent on the station to monitor the Devaronian. One could never be too careful…

 

[Caulder Dune]

Kubindi
Ku’dakan

Kubaz were a strange species. They were mammals that primarily dined on insects, often putting them at odds with species like Verpines and Thyferrans. They largely dwelled in expansive underground hives, which was something they shared with the insectoid species they were often at odds with, strangely enough. The Kubaz were well-adjusted to low light conditions and so required no assistance in meandering around their dark, labyrinthine cities.

The darkness was of little concern to Adekos as well. Umbarans were just as acquainted with seeing in the dark as the Kubaz. They even had the added benefit of not needing special, protective goggles if they went off world. Although, they certainly helped when malicious individuals purposely flashed bright lights at them, hoping to blind them temporarily for one reason or another. But there was little threat of that happening on Kubindi, hopefully.

Adekos carried the container to the address himself, knocking on the door once he found it. The door slid open, but there was no one present to greet him. The Umbaran warily ventured into the home, meandering about before finding the owner’s workroom. Unon Dant was an archaeologist here on Kubindi and one of the foremost experts in all variants of ancient Kubazian. If there was anyone who could translate these tablets, it was him.

Unon Dant looked up at Adekos, darkly dressed and imposing Sithling that he was, then looked back down at the stone tablet he had already been inspecting. Adekos could vaguely see that Unon was shaking erratically. “Who- What? Who are you?”

“Unimportant.” Adekos replied, marching over and dropping the container right on the workbench Unon was seated at. “Legau needs these tablets translated. You are to do so.”

The archaeologist shook his head, scratching at his neck harshly. Now a bit closer, Adekos could see more clearly how violently Unon was tremoring. “C-can’t. Uh-uh. Been trying to get this one for hours. Usually I’m quick, but, uh, not when I’m off.”

Adekos’ eyes narrowed behind his mask. “Off of what?”

There was no immediate response. Unon appeared to nod off for a moment, only to suddenly jerk his neck back up, flinch, and squeal. Adekos had spent enough time rounding up drug addicts on Coruscant for forced rehabilitation to recognize one when he saw one. Unon looked as though he was going through withdrawal. Of course a smuggler would direct him to a translator with a drud addiction.

He grabbed a small flimsipast notepad and a stylus faster than Adekos had ever seen someone grab anything. The Kubaz hurriedly jotted something down, ripped the parchment off the pad, and stuck it to Adekos’ chest. “Here, uh, take- take that to my, uh, doctor. Get him to send me my- my, uh. Y’know.”

The Sithling plucked the note off of his chest and read it over. “Are you serious?”

“I can’t, uh, can’t translate.” Unon stammered. As far as Kubaz facial expressions went, he seemed delirious. “With, uh, without it. Yeah.”

Adekos folded the note, placed it in his pocket, and left. He doubted he could find some other expert on dead Kubazian languages. Another small favor, then.

 

[Caulder Dune]

Jabiim
Choal

Adekos later found out that Unon’s “prescription medication” was illegal on Kubindi. That was why it was smuggled onto the planet for him and produced especially for him on Jabiim. His doctor had a practice in the city of Choal. Adekos could not imagine that the legal authorities would approve of the good doctor’s drug smuggling, so Adekos had resolved to threaten the man with exposure if those drugs were not handed over.

There was the problem that Adekos had absolutely no experience in regards to drug smuggling. Then again, he did have a lot of money to pay out bribes with and the ability to warp people’s minds in convenient ways. Basically the same thing. Adekos disembarked the speeder taxi he took from the spaceport and stepped out into the rain-drenched sidewalks of Choal. The office was only a few minutes walk from here.

Choal, like the rest of Jabiim, was a miserable place. The rain never stopped. The inhabitants had been belittled by virtually every galactic faction in history except for the Sepratists, and everyone knew what happened to them. From then on it, Jabiim was only home to rain, pollution from strip mining, and crippling depression. Adekos’ kind of town, surely.

The clinic looked fine on the outside. Stepping inside, however, the entire interior looked as though the place had been looted. Furniture was smashed, holes blasted into the walls, fluorescent lights dangled from the ceiling they had been pulled from. Debris coated the ground, and the one light that remained functioning flickered erratically, giving the place an ominous atmosphere.

“Typical.” Adekos murmurred.

As if on cue, a head peeked up over the counter. Jet black receding hair, bright red eyes, blue skin. A Chiss- male and middle aged. “Who’s there?”

“Are you doctor Osturti?”

Doctor Brors'rauz'osturti stood up from where he had been hiding. “Uh, yes?”

With little other indicator of what he was doing there, Adekos marched over to the desk, withdrew the note given to him by Unon Dant, and slid it across the counter. “Unon Dant needs his prescription filled.”

Rauz took the note and examined it. Being a doctor, deciphering Unon’s barely legible scrawl was probably no big deal. Rauz pursed his lips and put the note back on the table. “Uh, in case you haven’t noticed, we’re not really operating right now.” Rauz was a little weirded out by Adekos’ strange attire, but worse things had shown up in his office. This was Jabiim, after all. “Our place got raided by xenophobes a few days ago. One of my staff got taken, the rest quit and fled the system.”

“Give me the drug and I’ll have whoever's responsible dealt with.” The Umbaran clenched his jaw.

“It’s…” Rauz paused a minute to digest the kind of justice this shadowy gentleman was suggesting. “... Not that simple. I’m fresh out of Unon’s... Medication. Only one of my nurses, Nelly, knows how to make it.”

“Oh, for petty’s sake.” Adekos groaned. “And where can I find this nurse?”

Brors'rauz'osturti dipped behind the counter momentarily to retrieve something, then came back with another crinkled piece of parchment for Adekos. “Here’s the ransom note they left.”

Adekos read over the note. Once, twice, and he could feel a special sort of rage build up. He would have liked to choke the doctor to death, and everyone else in a five mile radius. But the doctor needed to remain alive. As did the Kubaz, and the Devaronian...

 

[Caulder Dune]

Chandaar
Ambaril, Warehouse District

Of course the human supremacists were headquartered on Chandaar. It was a Tion Cluster world, part of the Cronese Mandate. Aside from a large portion of the galactic GDP, the Tion Cluster was also a huge exporter of racism. Particularly the human-centric kind. Adekos tried to overlook the irrational racism that plagued the Tion Cluster. He was, after all, an Umbaran born and raised very far away from the cluster. He was about as foreign as foreign got in their eyes. But in the upper echelons of Tionese society, money spoke louder than race, and Adekos had plenty of money.

If only as much could be said to the hoi polloi that made up this gang of racists.

Adekos had elected not to deliver a ransom. He instead prodded around various circles of information brokers and discerned the gang’s hideout. It was nothing special. As it turned out, they just squatted in an abandoned warehouse in one of the seedier districts of Ambaril. Now that Adekos was made aware of this gang’s rise in power, he would probably dispatch the Tionese Whiteguard to execute them all at a later date. For now, his only concern was rescuing a Chiss nurse.

The Sithling identified a rear entrance to the warehouse, activated his lightsaber, and kicked open the door. A single guard was on duty, but he was decapitated before he could raise a proper alarm. Adekos proceeded forward, from that point on only wounding and incapacitating those who attempted to stop him and his surprisingly noble quest. Two kicked down doors later, Adekos had arrived in the bedroom of the gang’s leader. He and his bedmate, some plain-faced human wench, screamed in surprise at the interruption.

“Hey! Hey! What gives?”

“Where is the nurse?”

“What?” Klenter, the gang’s leader, blinked. Then his eyes narrowed. “Take a hike, Clyde.”

Klenter’s behavior was puzzling, to say the least. There he was, naked and defenseless in his bed. There Adekos was, armored in spooky looking Sith garb and holding a distinctly crimson lightsaber. Was it not obvious that his guards were disposed of, one way or another? Did it not occur to Klenter that the only thing between him and Adekos was a similarly nude hooker?

“Release the Chiss nurse you recently abducted. Then I’ll leave.”

“Pfft. Oh, yeah? And what makes you think I’d do that?”

Adekos looked at his hand. Was he still holding the lightsaber? Was it still activated? Yes. He looked between his weapon of choice and the painfully vulnerable Klenter. “Are you serious?”

“Alright, tough guy.” The gang leader snorted, moving to a seated position in his bed. “I like the cut of your jibe, so I’ll make ya a deal.” The hooker, displaying more awareness for what was going on than her customer, cowered behind him.

“Deal?” Adekos hissed. “There is no deal. You release the nurse or I’m going to kill you.”

“Nah, see, I’m the only guy who knows where she’s at. So if you go an’ kill me, you ain’t gonna find her. Dig?”

Adekos stared dead ahead into an imaginary void he could see forming behind Klenter. The very same void in which all of his time was being sucked into. Wasted. Gone forever. “I don’t like where this is going.”

“See, I’mma need a favor.”

 

[Caulder Dune]

Chandaar
Ambaril, Xer IV International Spaceport

At the very least, Adekos was pleased this next step was not taking him across the known galaxy again. Yet he found himself infuriated beyond all measure regardless. Where had he gone wrong? How could a task as simple as the one the Devaronian had given him exploded into this sort of meandering tale? Adekos still had the sinking feeling that this latest step in his misadventure was still only part of the beginning.

As it turned out, the gang relied on shipments of food sent by a wealthy benefactor. The nature of the shipment had been detected, and now it was detained pending an investigation. Adekos was loathe to interfere with due legal process and the inevitable starvation of a bunch of scum. However, now it was a necessity. The Sithling tracked down the customs official responsible, a near human by the name of Oscon. Moving through spaceports in the attire that he was in, not to mention a lightsaber, was fairly risky. So a Force Cloaked Adekos infiltrated one of the spaceport’s staff breakrooms and blinked into existence right in front of Oscon with no warning.

Oscon screamed. Loudly. And he would have attracted attention, were it not for Adekos’ gauntlet-clad hand around his neck before he got to the necessary volume.

“I’m going to release your neck. Then we are going to have a civil conversation.”

Oscon nodded, not having the leverage to do much else. Adekos hand slowly released the customs official’s neck, and Oscon took the opportunity to rub it tenderly. Adekos did not wait for further dialogue. “You confiscated a food shipment recently. It needs to be released to its intended destination. Now.”

And it was now, only now, that Adekos realized this entire city was populated by individuals so remarkably dense it would put the molten core of most planets to shame. Oscon, a balding middle aged and slightly overweight man, looked directly at Adekos and spoke thusly. “Not a karking chance.”

Really, it must have been the new mask. Not as intimidating as the last one. What other explanation could there be for these people to have the gall to deny him? He looked like a Sith. He appeared from thin air and could have readily choked this man to death, yet somehow Oscon was going to find the courage to just say no?

“Those bastards have been running one of the worst sex trafficking rings in the city. I got two daughters living with my ex-wife and my son at home. Go kark yourself, you’ll have to kill me.”

Oh, so he was just a man of principle. Adekos could respect that. What he couldn’t respect was that this outright refusal was going to lock him out of getting any of this nonsense accomplished. “Understandable. But the food shipment needs to be delivered before they can be dealt with.”

“Oh, really? And what makes you think I’ll believe that you intend to deal with them?”

“Because,” Adekos practically hissed. “The entire Tionese Whiteguard is under my command and can be here within ten standard days to slaughter them all to the last man. But only. If you release. The. Shipment.”

Oscon scoffed. “You’re a terrible liar.”

This was an outrageous thing to say to an Umbaran for a multitude of reasons, but Oscon continued. “But, if you can help me with my problem, maybe I’ll help you with yours. Then I’ll believe your heart’s in the right place.”

Or, Adekos thought to himself, I can stab myself in the face with my lightsaber and be free of this purgatory.

 

[Caulder Dune]

Dathomir
Great Canyon

According to the Ambaril Health Institute, erectile dysfunction affects approximately 5% of 40-year-old men and between 15% and 25% of 65-year-old men in the city. Oscon Merrywether, as it turned out, was one of those five percent. Oscon was also did not care for modern, practical medicine. Things like bacta and vaccines did not sit well with him. He preferred traditional herbal remedies. It seemed his protective instincts were misplaced, as he proudly informed Adekos that none of his children were vaccinated.

Adekos really could not have cared less for the vaccination status of Oscon’s children, but the man prattled away. His new Hapan girlfriend, demanding woman that she was, wanted children by Oscon. Oscon could not perform. So in his search for herbal remedies for erectile dysfunction, he heard of a Nightsister herbalist of great repute. “If you could go there for me and pick up something for my erectile dysfunction, that’d be great.” Oscon had said.

Oscon said this to a powerful Sithling that could turn invisible and had, only moments before, nearly choked him into unconsciousness. People on Chandarr were stupid. Then again, maybe Adekos was the stupid one, because here he was on Dathomir, preparing to talk to a Nightsister about someone else’s inability to pitch a tent.

The Nightsister in question went by the name of Wylandriah and resided alone in her hut, located within the Great Canyon. Adekos trekked for several hours before he finally happened upon Wylandriah's hovel. The darkly clad Umbaran brushed aside the cloth that acted as the door, entering the hut. A middle-aged Dathomiri woman was seated facing the door, a boiling cauldron on the floor in front of her. She was meditating, eyes closed as she focused whatever voodoo-mumbo-jumbo she could harness.

Adekos took a deep breath. He wondered where he would be sent next? “Are you Wylandriah?”

“Yesssss.” She whispered, and already Adekos knew he wanted to stay here for as little time as possible.

“Good. I have need of one of your remedies. One that can cure or alleviate erectile dysfunction.”

She opened her eyes, which were both as black and featureless as an abyss. “Is this for you?”

Did that really matter? “...No, it isn’t. I was sent-”

“I do not deal with liars.” Wylandriah rebuffed, shutting her eyes and returning to her focus.

“I’m not-” Adekos stopped his rant before it began. He took a deep, deep breath, then adjusted his response. “Yes. It is for me. Please help me.”

Wylandriah smiled, but did not open her eyes again. “Good.”

“What do you want for it?” Adekos said, preparing to engage in a long-winded session of bartering.

“Nothing. The practice is good enough for me.”

It was like a chorus of Diathim had descended from the heavens and announced this personally to Adekos. Was his quest truly at an end here?

“But, I am fresh out of one of the ingredients. I require the feet of a Ysalamiri for this elixir. If you can bring that to me-”

She did not finish, as Adekos had already exited the tent. He did this, of course, so he would not fly into a blind, murderous rage.

 

[Caulder Dune]

Myrkr
Ysalamiri Preserve

Sneaking into the preserve was entirely out of the question. It was too heavily fortified. The Mandalorians were a universally daft and an entirely deplorable people, but they knew how to run security on things that they held dear. Seeing that they lost Wayland to the Primeval, the very beating heart of their territory nearly cleft in twain… Well, they had to hold on to whatever fleeting tactical advantage a bunch of Force-nullifying lizards gave them.

It obviously wasn’t helping and, with any luck, it would not save them. A galaxy whose only Mandalorian population was entirely exterminated was the only galaxy worth living in. The Sith and the Primeval were at least less annoying and prideful about their primordial, mindless culture. Adekos hated them beyond all reasonable measure, so communicating with the one of the guards posted at the reserve was especially difficult for him.

“I need an Ysalamiri.” Adekos informed them. For this outing he required another disguise, this one was a Ubese. Mandalorians tended to shoot Sith and those who looked like Sith on sight. “This is of the utmost importance. Whatever you and your men are being paid to stand guard, I’ll double it.”

When he was done picking his nose, the Mandalorian replied. “Yeah, see, I can’t do that. These are for the war effort ‘in all, so, uh Yeah. Can’t do it.”

“I assure you, one Ysalamiri will hardly be missed. Besides, you could retire with the amount of money I’m giving you.”

“Me and my mates don’t want to retire.”

Oh, of course. Mandalorians. They were the sort that would rather die in the middle of gratuitous, purposeless violence than maybe accomplish something that took a few decades. Dying old was probably dishonorable. What Adekos would have given to slaughter them all here and now, if he could…

“What do you want then? No price is too steep.”

“Well...” The Mandalorian looked behind him to make sure his friends were not listening. “I’ve been meaning to get my ladyfriend some new crushgaunts. It’s our anniversary. If you could, uh, pick the ones I ordered in Keldabe for me… I’ll see what I can do.”

“Crushgaunts? Fine. You’ll have your crushgaunts. Now give me the lizard.”

It was unfortunate the Mandalorian was not as stupid as Adekos would have liked. He refused again, then added. “And not just any Crushgaunts. I’m talking about one from Sagrak, the Trandoshan. He makes the best ones, and I want the best ones for Holga.”

Of course she was named Holga. What else would a Mandalorian woman be named? It was certainly guttural enough to imply at least one mole, unattractive facial features, a clubbed foot, and a hunched back. Did Adekos have ground to stand on in matters of beauty? Probably not. But he did have ground to stand on in terms of civilized conduct, which the Mandalorians sorely lacked.

“Fine. Crushgaunts from Sagrak. You wait here.”

“Uh, yeah. I’ll wait here. ‘cause… That’s my job.”

The Ubese, Adekos, stormed off into the jungle of Myrkr. There was no progress being made here. Every move just dug the hole a little more deeper. Those blasted scrolls from Legau had better contain the secret to eternal life somewhere in between those bastardized lines of Sith text.

 

[Caulder Dune]

Mandalore
Keldabe

The city of Keldabe was looking good for a city that had been hit with a nuclear bomb only a few decades ago. The reconstruction efforts had likely been intensive, not to mention the radiation scrubbing that had to be done. RC 212, that infamous Death Watch ringleader who had launched said nuke, would probably be upset to see his handiwork undone. Leave it to a Mandalorian dog to destroy a Mandalorian cesspit. The fact that it had been restored so quickly as more testament to the civilian residents of the city, rather than their barbarian overlords.

Adekos entered a crowded, smelly district practically filled with nothing but forges and smithies. This, Adekos thought, was the truest true testament to how backwards the Mandalorian culture was: they still held a pathetic fascination with primitive metalworking practices. It was in this sweltering district that all the beskar smiths had their storefronts. Adekos had come looking for one in particular- a Kajain'sa'Nikto known especially for his crushgaunts.

“Are you-”

“Yes.” Sagrak bellowed, so as to be heard above the sounds of the forge. He was presently pummeling some molten beskar blade into shape with a hammer. “What do you want?”

“Dalso Cartaan sent me to-”

CLANG.

“I was sent by Dalso Car-”

CLANG.

“A man by the name of Dalso Carta-”

CLANG.

Teeth grit, Adekos waited until Sagrak finished the blade and dunked it into water to cool. Now that it was steam filling the air instead of that obnoxious clanging from someone who had to work for a living, Adekos could finally get what he needed.

“Dalso Cartaan sent me to pick up his crushgaunts. The finest ones.” Adekos wondered if he should clarify, then added. “For Holga, ostensibly.”

Sagrak stroked his chin. “Oh. Those. He didn’t pick those up in time. Had to sell them to someone else.”

Deep breath. Adekos closed his eyes for a moment, then exhaled slowly. Inhaled again, exhaled slowly. Check that temper. Beating this Nikto to near-death and stealing the crushgaunts from someone else in this accursed city was not going to bring him any closer to where he needed to be.

“And who,” Adekos said, eventually returning from his brief meditative state, “Pray tell, did you sell them to?”

“Uh, some pirate. Weequay fellow. Goes by the name of Honan Onada. Last I heard he was heading to Kushibah to do some raiding.”

“Good. Perhaps we’ll have a little chat, him and I.” Adekos muttered, storming out. He had enough of this Ubese get-up and playing errand boy to each degenerate he happened upon. This Umbaran was going to draw the line at pirates.

 

[Caulder Dune]

Kushibah
Raided Village

Kushibah was a small, forested planet. Its inhabitants were small little woodland creatures that passed the time making priceless tapestries and being primitive. Though they hardly looked it, the Kushiban were as sentient as sentient got. And despite their primitive status, Adekos held them in higher regard than the Mandalorian pirates that were in the process of raiding this village. Again, their tapestries were rather valuable and their makers rather powerless to stop people from robbing them. They were a prime target for Mandalorian savages.

Normally such a raid would have gone off without a hitch and the captured Kushiban sold as amusing pets to unknowledgeable owners. Fate had given the Kushiban an unlikely ally, however. As they were in the process of flinging several Kushiban into a cage, two pirates were approached by the shadowy figure of Adekos.

“Pardon me, gentlemen.”

Unsurprisingly both of them whirled around. They were just by the entrance of the village, prepping the cages for transport. They weren’t exactly expecting visitors, so pistols were drawn and leveled at Adekos.

“Who the hell are you?” One of them, a Mordageen, barked.

“I was wondering where your captain is.”

The second of the two pirates, a Guineo, snorted derisively. “Piss off, creep. We’re working.”

“Yes, yes, same here.” Adekos gestured, twisting the Force to his will. The fanciful hand gesture was probably not all that necessary, but it did help him visualize what he wanted to do. The Force could be used to accomplish a great many things. Some used it to bend minds or metal. Adekos, however, used it to manipulate the power packs of the blaster pistols.

By his command, the power cells rapidly overheated until the point of exploding. These minor detonations were enough to distract both pirates while Adekos activated his lightsaber, bisecting one and decapitating the other in quick succession. Before their bodies even hit the floor, Adekos was already walking forward again. With another quick flick of his wrist, the cage holding the Kushiban was flung open, and they scattered quickly into the surrounding forest.

Lightsaber still active, Adekos strode toward the diminutive little village’s square. Another pirate had already seen what had happened, and so raised his rifle to open fire on Adekos. A single flick of the lightsaber was all that was needed to deflect the bolt back into the pirate’s chest. There were more pirates deeper in the village, mostly armed with ramshackle weapons and vibroswords. They were forced to cease their looting to come after the Sithling who dare interrupt their malignant operations.

Two more pirates fell upon him with vibroswords. Two humans, both male, both painfully untrained in the ways of sword fighting. It was no wonder they resorted to raiding glorified squirrels. The first came at him with an overhead strike. The Umbaran’s lightsaber moved upwards, knocking it aside and off course with ease. He followed the movement up with a Force Push, flinging the pirate into a nearby tree, spine shattering against the wood.

The second attempted to capitalize this by a straight lunge for Adekos’ chest. He did not anticipate the Dark Jedi would sense this, spin around the outstretched blade, and lop his arm off at the elbow. The screaming was deafening, but as it were Adekos did not really feel like following through. He left the screaming pirate there while he went around the village, springing open cages and stabbing uppity pirate scum as was necessary.

When he found the captain, he surrendered the gauntlets, pleading for amnesty. Once the captain was done spasming from his summary electrocution and Adekos confirmed he was dead, the Umbaran gathered the gauntlets and prepared to make his return.

 

[Caulder Dune]

The Return Trip

Given that he had been at it for so long, it was shocking to Adekos that this ridiculous quest was almost at an end. With the gauntlets in hand, Adekos returned to the Mandalorian Ysalamiri preserve in his Ubese costume. Satisfied that the crushgaunts were authentic, Adekos entered the preserve and tracked down a Ysalamiri. It was rather sad that one of them had to be killed simply to fulfill an ingredient requirement in an old crone’s potion, but such was the way of the galaxy.

Fortunately, he didn’t need to kill one himself. Adekos stumbled upon one that had been mauled by Vornskrs, feet intact. Checking to make sure no one sapient was observing him, Adekos hacked off the feet with his lightsaber, placed them in a rucksack, and made the trip back to Dathomir. This time he did not hike through the canyon, instead landing his ship just outside. That way when the Nightsister spent the better part of six hours preparing the potion, he had somewhere comfortable to wait.

She gave him the elixir. “There you go. That oughta help you pitch a proper tent.”

“Please never say that again.” Adekos muttered, leaving a little too quickly..

Adekos tracked down Oscon with little effort, delivering to him the supposed cure for his erectile dysfunction. For the indignity of making him get the elixir for him, Adekos explained in-depth what was happening to Oscon to his sixteen-year old son when he answered the door. “It gets passed down from father to son.” He explained. “You have about two years before it happens to you as well.”

Despite the fear this blatant lie inspired in his son, Oscon kept his part of the bargain. The food shipment was released and delivered to Klenter and his gang. When Adekos arrived, Klenter was waiting for him in the main part of the warehouse, along with the Chiss nurse. She looked worse for wear, physically and emotionally scarred. Captivity by this sort of waste could do that to a person. “Is there anyone else here besides you and your gang? Prostitutes? More captives?”

Klenter chortled at the question. “Nah. Why, you gonna rescue them too?”

Adekos reached out through the Force to discern whether Klenter was telling the truth. “No, just curious.”

“Riiight. Take a hike, Clyde.”

Sex trafficking rings could not be allowed to operate in Tionese space. It was unbecoming of Tion and its cluster. So when Adekos and the Chiss nurse exited out the back, there was a captain of the Tionese Whiteguard and his squad waiting for them. “The area is clear, save for the scum. Wipe them out. All of them.”

“Right away, sir.”

Satisfied that mess would be cleaned up, Adekos returned the nurse to Jabiim. She was skeptical to resume making drugs given what happened, but Adekos persuaded her further with a lump sum of five thousand credits. A paltry amount to him, a life-saving donation to someone who was now out of work and needed some money to start over. After waiting for the drugs to be finished, he smuggled them through the local spaceport security and left.

Great. Now not only was he fetching drugs for people, he was smuggling them. Oh, how the great and mighty had fallen. After smuggling them through another spaceport and into the city of Ku’dakan, Adekos dropped them on Unon Dant’s desk. Unon Dant imbibed the drugs and passed out. Three hours later, when he woke up, he translated the tablets and handed them to Adekos. “What took you so long, anyway?”

If only he knew how close Adekos was to a murderous frenzy. Then he might not have asked. Adekos breathed in and out several times to stave off any violence, then left without another word.

 

[Caulder Dune]

Smuggler’s Run
Skip 72

Legau’s office was just as unkempt as it was when Adekos left. If anything it was worse, considering the amount of time that had passed since he had last been here. As the door slid upwards, Legau turned around from the shelf he had been organizing to greet Adekos. The Devaronian, unaware of Adekos’ foul mood, smiled broadly. “Eyy, what took joo so lo- hrk!”

An invisible fist fastened itself around Legau’s neck, beginning to choke him. The Devaronian coughed and sputtered, clutching at the collar of his shirt and attempting to loosen it- as if that was going to help. Hand outstretched, Adekos marched towards Legau and the door slid shut behind him. “Do you have any idea how long it took me to get your little friend’s bloody narcotics?”

He directed the Force to lift Legau, still by his neck, and slam him into an adjacent shelf. “All because you didn’t want me to pay you?”

“Joo are upset-” Legau coughed, “I can maek dis up to joo.”

“Where are the scrolls?”

Legau could only make sputtering coughing noises by this point, and so pointed a wiry finger at a rather distinct looking durasteel box on the shelf behind Adekos. Adekos glanced behind him, saw the box, and dropped unceremoniously dropped Legau to the floor. Legau busied himself by coughing and gasping for air while Adekos crossed the floor, put the box on a desk, and opened it up.

True to Legau’s gesture, the scrolls were inside. Adekos gingerly took one, unrolling it to scan the contents. His High Sith was rusty, but he could recognize a consistent mention of Mechu-Deru and Belia Darzu when he saw it. They were authentic as far as he could tell. However, the scrolls were notably sharing their box with another object, one that Adekos had been looking for rather strenuously.

“Is that...?”

“The Kazdan Paratus Holocron, yees.”

Adekos glanced at Legau, still slumped over and rubbing his neck where Adekos had been telekinetically strangling him, then back at the holocron. He had been searching for this device for a while, including that botched expedition to Cularin following a dead end clue. How this ruffian had gotten a hold of it, Adekos couldn’t say.

“I’m taking this.”

“Please do.” Legau sniffed.

Adekos replaced the contents of the box and sealed it back up. “Excellent. Good work, Mr. Legau.”

The Devaronian muttered something rude under his breath as Adekos took his leave of the chamber. Adekos did not like to think of what happened here as necessarily coercion and extortion. It was more like… A favor. Yes, Legau was doing him a nice favor by giving him the Kazdan Paratus Holocron. One that Adekos had no intention of paying back.

He was done doing favors for the foreseeable future.