Miralukan Arkanian Jedi Knight
Silver Sea
Chandrila
Coming down slow a HWK-290 Freighter, broadcasting the camouflaged identification friend or foe designation: Spacer Guild Freighter Star Jumper D9, landed on one of the free off-loading spots of the OB-99 Landing Platform superstructure. The massive behemoth of towering steel buttresses holding aloft a massive platform that over looked the Silver Sea from its foundational perch within a sheer cliff face dominated the coastline of the Hanna City Coast. With the landing gear sighing heaving mechanical growls as it bared the weight of the descending hull, the side exit hatch hissed open and spat out a rusty gangplank. Stepping out of the hatch, blasted with venting coolant efflux, was its pilot – dressed in a long dark leather double-breasted trench coat with a black Ubese helmet. Exiting behind them was a slow rolling BB-series droid. It chirped and bleeped something, that the dark figure ignored.
A swarm of Pit Droids scampered over to the figure beeping and chirping. The figure intercepted their curious charge and swung out a leg threatening to punt one of them into the silvery froth of the waves below. The droids recoiled and ran off in a retreat, hiding behind an approaching protocol droid decorated with a scratched torso plate chrome and mismatching colored plates of gold and red. The figure marched to the protocol droid.
“Welcome to OB-99, may I see your credentials?” the protocol droid introduced itself with a demand.
The figure reached into their pocket and drew out a small data device and projected a miniature holo-profile. The figure ID’d themselves as a female Spacer Guild merchant hauler, named Vassa Dax. The protocol droid eyed the registration and then paused, then looked at this Vassa.
“Where do you hail from?” the protocol droid probed.
“The Outer Rim,” replied Vassa, their voice masked by a harsh gruff vocoder obfuscating their real voice with a synthesized approximation.
“Reason for visit?” the protocol droid. “Pleasure or Business?”
Vassa took a step closer. The very edge of the protruding snout of their helmet was but a single hair’s length between it and the flat face plat of the protocol droid.
“Business,” Vassa’s metallic voice hissed.
“O-Oh, weh-well,” the protocol droid stuttered, “Welcome to Chandrila, Miss Dax.”
Vassa said nothing, instead they bumped the protocol droid’s shoulder and strutted past it, as their BB followed by bleeping some retort. The two passed crowds of droids, repulsorlift machines offloading goods, spacers, and platform patrons, to a nearby Spacer’s Cantina that was built on the edges of the platform. The cantina had its own side platform that jutted out from the lower levels of the platforms flying buttresses. Quickly jogging down steel staircase to the cantina’s entrance, Vass and her BB entered. They passed the bar island in the center and pushed through a crowd to reach a booth covered in shadows away from the neon lights.
The BB rolled right under the table and hid by Vassa’s feet as she sat down. Scooting deep into the booth she looked around before removing their helmet. As it left their head, a mane of silvery white hair feel, covering a black band that covered their empty eye sockets. This Vassa, was in truth, Kalika Vaar, a Miralukan-Arkanian rogue Jedi Knight. Kalika spat out a long exhale, using it to vomit up all the anxiety and nerves of playing her covering persona of a rude spacer – although the imitation wasn’t far from its inspirational source material, herself. She had been chased by Bounty Hunters looking to cash in Sith bounties on Jedi in the Outer Rim for weeks now. Chandrila was the last stop in a plan to reach the Galactic Alliance. The plan was all stored on a small comm-link video recording.
Kalika pulled it the item out and played the message again. A small blue haze belched from the device focusing into the image of a muscular towering Hutt with mechanical limbs and a golden necklace. Kalika had the recording muted. She had listened and watched it a thousand or more times. She knew it by heart. She replayed what the message had told her time and time again in her head.
“Listen hun, I have a friend of mine who is going to help you! Used to be a real scoundrel of a dude, shifting illicits with me back when I was a mob tough. But, I hear he went straight and became a proper big shot with the Jedi[
Ryv
]. I contacted him a while ago, he sent some of his folks to Chandrila to meet you. All you have to do is wait for a few Jedi looking for a Freighter to Corellia, that’s the code sign! Approach and introduce yourself as Vassa Dax.”
Ryv
]. I contacted him a while ago, he sent some of his folks to Chandrila to meet you. All you have to do is wait for a few Jedi looking for a Freighter to Corellia, that’s the code sign! Approach and introduce yourself as Vassa Dax.”“I wish I could come with you. I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” Kalika mouthed exactly when she knew the Hutt would say his part.
“Goodluck and contact me when you get into Alliance space!”
The Hutt looked around, as if embarrassed, then he drew in close to the camera and blew Kalika a kiss.
Kalika smiled passed her fingers through the holo-image trying to caress the hulking Hutt’s chiselled jowls.
“I love you,” the Hutt said. “My silver jem.”
“I love you too,” whispered Kalika.
The feed ended and the hologram cut. The BB unit bleeped a small snide electronic interruption.
“Yah so what if I’m watching it again,” Kalika snapped, lightly prodding the ball of the BB unit causing it to shriek in protest.
Kalika pocketed the comm link and crossed her arms, drawing her shoulders up to flank her face and popping up her coat’s collar. She turned her head and through the vision granted to all Miralukans in the Force watched for signs of her Jedi accomplices.
“Let’s hope Juuges’s friends pulled through,” Kalika said.
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