Smuggling Woes

[Rusty]

"What's with the hood?" Rusty asked conversationally.

Rusty had asked that within thirty minutes of being led into what was clearly a holding cell of some sort, but probably wasn't in the main brig.

"Nothing personal," the guard in the room said. "Officially, you're considered an escape risk. Unofficially, the boss wants to work over your buddies for a while."

That made Rusty seethe, but he could guess why. Interrogating a Shard was not an easy task. For a legally registered bodyguard, however, just knowing that his employer was potentially in harm's way was its own sort of torture.

"You uh, you probably shouldn't tell me that."

Judging by the sound, the guard shrugged.

"Boss says it doesn't matter. Sure you could probably kill me and escape if you had a mind to, but we'll shoot your captain in the spine as soon as the alarm goes off."

Rusty sagged in his chair. That was smart. All kinds of messed up, but smart.

"Yeah, whatever," he said bitterly. "I'll let the lawyers handle the revenge and retribution. Still doesn't explain the hood."

The soldier chucked nervously.

"Well, it's standard procedure to rough up prisoners. All psychological and stuff. Well, since the boss isn't going to get to you any time soon, we thought it might be fun to send a couple of wannabe hard cases in here every now and again. Without telling them about you, ah, your race."

The Shard snorted. He might have a whole heaping helping of murderous rage building, but he couldn't really blame the guard for wanting to liven up what was probably a boring job. Plus, the more people he kept occupied, the fewer left to harass the Captain.

"You want I should play along?"

"Got anything better to do?"

He sighed.

"Not really."

And so, every now and then for the forty or so hours, the guards would hustle in a new victim. Whatever they had told them, it had them really worked up. They'd scream and shout and, inevitably, try to punch him in the face. He'd always sell the first couple hits, rocking convincingly and groaning in pain. Trade a couple of insults, let them get good and riled up for the haymaker, then no sell the crap out of it. The cheers from the other side of the two way mirror were loud enough that he could hear them over the anguished howls of the victim, who would be hauled away while the other guards would congratulate him on a job well done.

In a way, Rusty was being played as surely as if they'd tortured an organic and had a beautiful nurse treat their wounds after. Worrying about the Captain was agony, and the brief interludes were a welcome respite. The comradeship was also intentional. He had no doubt the guards were getting a kick out of it, but that didn't mean it wasn't deliberate. They were allowed to keep it going, after all.

 

[Malia Afredane]

She sniffed hard, trying to focus on anything other than her splitting headache. She looked over at Kairon, confused as he was talking. The phantom pain in her arms still making her wince and shake. Date?

"Shame about the date?" She looked at him a little incredulously. "Like, our dinner, date?"

They had a date? And there was reason for there to be shame about it now?

"Why is it a shame? Is it because I did a nickel?"

She suddenly felt sick. As if being detained and tortured wasn't enough. Let's rip her heart out while they were at it. Maybe this was another illusion. It didn't look like one. Although she admittedly couldn't tell.

[member="Kairon Rees"]

 

[Kairon Rees]

"Wait, what?" Kairon said, furrowing his brow. The cogs were turning so slowly now. The last session had left him mentally exhausted and the fething noise didn't stop. But now his mind was dealing with a different problem, something entirely more common, but no less daunting than torture at the hands of an illusionist. A few seconds later a cog cliked into place. "No, no," he said. Again a pause as the words he had formed in his mind were blasted out by an off-key note. Try to keep talking, try to put your mind on a different track to events here.

"I had a reservation at Brakur’s," he tried to explain. "The really nice one. We'll miss the reservation. It takes weeks to get another one," he tried to smile, but he could already hear footsteps coming down the corridor again.

 

[Malia Afredane]

The guard stopped at the cell openings, but Mal was crawling at the energy field trying desperately to keep her thoughts straight.

"So wait..wait... you ask me yesterday...for tomorrow...but it takes weeks for a reservation. Who were you really supposed to take?"

She looked half crazied. Like nothing about this added up. She looked up at Jarrick.

"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to take him, he doesn't have to pretend to like me so we can do jobs together."

She looked back to Kairon, the guard clearly enjoying the floor show.

"It's fine...I think what you two have is great. I don't want to come between that."

She looked completely dejected, looking down at her lap as she sat back on her haunches.

[member="Kairon Rees"]

 

[Kairon Rees]

"Wait what?" he said, shaking his head to try to clear the fuzz. Now he was beginning to wish he'd pondered his fingernails being back on his hands more, instead of broaching this subject whilst unable to think clearly. Now he was feeling irrationally annoyed. She was misinterpreting his words, deliberately. Was this another ploy?

"I had a favour," he said, slightly too aggressively, holding his hands out to the left. "I used the favour," he tried to explain moving his hands over to the right. It wasn't quite the truth but forming sentences right now was hard enough as it is and 'I snuck into my old corporate account as used their client entertainment booking system' was probably a concept too far. "Why are you shouting at him?"

"Come on, time to go," the guard said, switching off his field. "Boss thinks if we airlock one of you, the rest might just start talking," he grunted, grabbing Kairon by the shoulder and hauling him to his feet. Kairon reacted when he shouldn't have. They'd barely been here for...he didn't know how long, perhaps a day, perhaps hours, and he'd already been pushed towards the edge, so the lie was an easy one to swallow. Instinct kicked in and he pulled away violently. The guard was taken aback by how hard Kairon pulled and lost his footing.

Kairon scampered to the edge of Jarrick's cell skidding to his knees. "You keep the boy safe, you hear me?" The old soldier met his eyes and gave a nod.

"Argh!" Kairon screamed as the stun baton slammed into the middle of his back. Two guards bent down the lock their arms around him and lift him up.

"You've got a date with a vacuum, old boy. Don't worry you don't have to book in advance for this one."

His head lolled as his vision swam. His eyes tried to focus and he found himself staring into Mal's cell. "Why would you think I was pretending?" he whispered. It was all he could manage before they dragged him away. His soft shoes made a quiet hiss as they pulled him along. He was taken far away from the cells, up a turbolift and towards a heavyset door with a flashing light above it. An airlock. He was thrown unceremoniously inside. There was no fight left in him right now. The boy's screams...Mal's face when he'd tried to lighten the mood. A klaxon sounded, there was a hiss.

The room went dark. He lifted his head up off the floor. His hair - slick with sweat - clung to the elephant tread deck. The lights came on. This had been an airlock, but now it was...an office? There was a tidy desk, a watercooler in the corner and several filing cabinets against the wall. A male bothan in a crisp green and black uniform walked over to him and offered his hand.

"Well, this just won't do. This is entirely outside of protocol. I can only apologise Mr Rees. Please, can I get you something to drink?"

Kairon looked up incredulously, as the Bothan smiled and offered his hand.

 

[Malia Afredane]

"So you see, the paperwork isn't as neat as you thought. Our inquiries have turned up stolen goods, but we know that you were told it was a legitimate cargo job."

The Bothan, Major Hammersmith, had been incredibly kind, allowed Kairon to sit in a chair, have a hot caf and some food. The best part was that his office was blissfully quiet. He sat behind the desk now, the details of the two ships, the manifests and Mal's criminal record splayed out across the desktop. The detail was impeccable. The deal however was not.

They were laying it on Mal. Squarely on Mal. Looked like she served time in a Republic naval prison and they were implying that she was the one who nicked the goods and set him up.

"Did she tell you that?" Hammersmith changed tacts a moment. "No? I can see that it might dissuade a fine captain from your trading company if she revealed that she is a felon."

He watched him again. "I'll bet she didn't tell you about the droid either. He's not really a droid, you know."

Hammersmith laid a pad and a pen out in front Kairon.

"Just write it all down and we'll see she goes away. It's that simple."

The smile on his furred face was so easy, it was almost angelic.

_______________________________________________________________________________

Back in the cell, Jarrick was on silent trreatment after yelling at Mal for 10 minutes straight regarding human behavior and droid instincts. Apparently, not only was Rusty wrong, he was very, very, very wrong. Mal felt like hurling again. When his tirade was over, she moved to the corner along with the wall with the door so that she couldn't see the other cell at all. Her forehead pressed to her knees, she wept, great racking sobs until she fell asleep.

[member="Kairon Rees"]

 

[Kairon Rees]

Kairon sat stock still, starring at the piece of paper before him. The Bothan nodded enthusiastically as he placed his hands on the table. The silence was…strange. Almost otherworldly after so much time in the discordant chaos of the cells.

Wasn’t he supposed to be in an airlock? The memory was there, but like a sunspot on the cornea, it faded the more you tried to observe it. Mal…she had been angry, upset. He couldn’t understand why she had been so angry.

Oh of course. This was all his fault. No wonder she didn’t want to go on the rearranged date he’d proposed. Was that what he’d done? He took a long drink from the hot caff.

“If I sign this, the boy will go free? Oh you don’t have any biscuits do you?”



On the other end of a monitor, an agent watched. “Don’t worry, don’t push him. If he doesn’t break this time, we just go around full circle. Again and again and again. Try the other Captain.”



“Oh no you don’t,” came a jovial call from outside Mal’s cell. The pair of guards were back. He clapped his hands loudly when she didn’t immediately rouse. The pair collected her from her cell and carried her to a door across the hallway. “Don’t worry, we’re not air-locking you as well, though I bet you’d go with more dignity. Doctor has a few questions for you.”

The door slid open to reveal a wide chamber. Various instruments were laid out on clean aluminium tables. Several men in clean white aprons and surgical gloves were carrying machine parts around. Most were still in a heap on the floor. The heap was what was left of Rusty’s droid body, or what appeared to be it.

“Ah, there you are! Fascinating isn’t it? Shame we couldn’t extract it in one piece. What do you know about shards and how its body worked?”

 

[Malia Afredane]

She trembled, shaking her head and twitching at the sounds that were no longer there. She looked over the pieces and collapsed to her knees, rocking and shaking her back and forth, muttering to herself. There were dark circles under her eyes and a bruise across the bridge of her nose. She looked up at the doctors and screamed at them.

"NO! You're all liars, this is another lie. IT WON'T WORK."

She lunged for the door, slamming her fists against it, screaming for Rusty, over and over. The guards tried to restrain her and one of them got an elbow to the gut before the other hit her with a stun baton and she fell to the floor.

They drug her unconscious back to the cell and dumped her into hers.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

"Oh, your whole crew will be free. Just sign the form and you're all out of here in an hour. The Shard will be recycled and Malia will be remanded to the penal system. Nice and neat."

He was looking at the prison record, shaking his head and clucking his cheek.

"She's a menace, really. Doing everyone a favor putting her away, surely."


[member="Kairon Rees"]

 

[Kairon Rees]

Kairon managed to regain some sense of clarity in that quiet office, sat there looking at the forms. He finished his drink and took a final bite of the biscuit and crushed the pen in his hand. The lights went out. They came back on. The room was empty again.

There was a quiet thud, then a roar as the wind pulled him from his feet and started to drag him across the floor. Then it stopped. The door slid open again and the two guards were there again. “Boss decided not to airlock you this time. Back you go for a breather.”

Kairon was left sat in the corner of his cell, his hands shaking. He knew what they were trying to do; they were trying to prise him away from his grip on reality. How long could they keep this up for? How long could he hold on until the pen was in his hand. Turning his head, he could see Asmus in the next cell.

"You're holding on, aren't you lad," it was a statement not a question.

"Yes," came the reply, but there was no conviction.

"Good. I'm proud of you. We'll see through this," he said.

"Damn fething right," came the veteran again, peering out at them from within his shell.

"I'll tear out their throats before I break," came a hiss from further down.

"What happened to Mal?" he asked, a lump in his throat.

"They said they were taking her to see a doctor and brought her back like that," Asmus replied shakily.

"Okay. Let her rest," Kairon replied. Talking was good. It kept him grounded. He leant his head back against the cold bulkhead and closed his eyes, but sleep would not come.

 

[Malia Afredane]

She dreamed. Something crazy, something beautiful and when she woke up, it was a nightmare again. She couldn't tell what reality was anymore, or was this still the dream.

She was strapped to a table and Rusty was cutting her apart, while doctors sorted her parts into piles. She woke up screaming to a hand on her, shaking her awake. The music was gone and a guard was prodding her, her clothes and personal effects sitting next to her.

"Wake up lovely, it's checkout day."

She could feel the clothes, they smelled like hers. A glance across the hall and they all seemed to be getting dressed. She dragged her clothes to the corner where the head was a dressed. She hurt everywhere and the blurred reflection in the stainless steel commode looked like she had bruises. She couldn't bring herself to look at Jarrick or Kairon, waiting in the hall until the guard waivered her on, Kairon still waiting on Mai and Asmus to get ready before they were lead on. It was a short walk through the ship to the hangar where the original officer who board her ship handed her the manifests and registry back.

"Everything seems to be in order, you will be fined for the improper permits. We hope you have enjoyed your stay."

She nearly collapsed against the hydraulic lift arm but she was really on Gracie. She could see the cargo right where it was left. Karking pricks. She waited for Rusty, calling him up the ramp. He was not here and she didn't know how much more she could take.

[member="Kairon Rees"] [member="Rusty"]

 

[Rusty]

Rusty was escorted out under heavy guard, arms cuffed, legs shackled, ankles hobbled by a durasteel bar that ran between the shackles.

His head was hooded, his fingers secured in mits.

The interrogator had made the mistake of telling him what she had done to the Captain. He had said nothing, made no threat, but she could feel the bloodlust radiating off the ancient Shard through the Force. It was almost a physical thing, and she had immediately ordered the restraints.

The Shard would have smiled if he could. He wouldn't kill her here, on this ship. That would be too easy.

This was a hunt he would relish. He would take a long, long time, and by the time he was finished, the Zabrak would look into his eyes and thank him for the gift of death. She would love him for ending her suffering. And he would deny her that gift, let her live the rest of her short life in unimaginable agony.

Once he got back to the ship, the guards removed the cuffs and the hobbles. The sergeant of the guard shook his hand.

"Sorry we had to meet like this, big guy. Hope you don't take it personal."

"Don't worry, Sarge," Rusty replied, his voice pitched just for the sergeant's ears. "I'm not out for you guys. If I were you though, I'd spread the word that anyone close to the boss might want to back away."

The sergeant nodded, clapped the Shard on the back, winced, and led the men away.

Rusty approached the Captain. She looked like she was about to collapse. Her knees were shaking, her eyes watering, with deep bags underneath. Her fingernails had been chewed to the quick, and the corners of her lips had been chewed raw. She looked more like a caged animal than a human.

Oh yes. Rusty was going to take his sweet time with this one.

"Hey Mal," he said softly, tenderly. "You look like [bleep]."

 

[Malia Afredane]

When she heard his voice, her knees buckled and she fell into him, leaning against him, tears leaking from her as she quietly tried to put herself together. She looked up at him, the couple day old bruise and cut on her nose a ugly purple and yellow. She buried her face in his long coat, wiping her runny nose on it as he helped her to her feet.

"They tried to convince me they ripped you apart. That you were no more. I got one of them with an elbow before I don't remember what happened."

She looked around Gracie, then back up to him, with a trembling smile.

"I don't think I can fly out, Rusty. Can you take us on?"

She trudged to her room, grabbing water, painkillers and food from her stash. She pulled a blanket off her bed and wrapped herself in as she balled up in the copilot's seat. She didn't want to be alone right now but she drank her water and ate her jerky, chewing it slowly in the dimly lit cockpit. She spoke only once as she eating.

"Kairon's not gay. He was interested in me. Jarrick is his you. His protector."

[member="Rusty"] [member="Kairon Rees"]

 

[Rusty]

As soon as they were cleared, Rusty hightailed it out of there. ATC was indignant about the amount of wash he threw all over the bay, but considering the circumstances, they could hardly blame the leaving crews for being a little overeager.

"Oh? That's nice," he said when the Captain finally spoke. "You guys gonna meet up again?"

That was the very next to last thing he wanted to talk about. The Shard could care less about whether or not she did squishy things with the other captain. That was her business, not his. But, it kept her from asking about what he was planning to do once they both recovered. He wasn't sure he could answer her, because she was not going to approve of the answer.

 

[Kairon Rees]

The escort of battle droids clanked and whirred all the way as the crew was led out to the hangar. Mal was leaning into Rusty on the ramp to the Grace. The moment he stepped out of line, the battle droid turned on him, levelling its arm-mounted blaster. He watched sorrowfully as she made her own way back into her ship.

Whilst he still didn’t believe they were free, expecting another cycle of psychological punishment, he was damn well going to walk out of here with his head held high.

“Captain Rees, your ship is now returned back to you, out of our custody. You are fined one hundred credits for deviating from pre-arranged flight patterns.”

“Go feth yourself,” Kairon said, glowering at the man.

“Charming. Get this fodder off my deck,” the officer replied.

Kairon’s left hand shook all the way up into the Quin. “Get her into hyperspace,” he said to Jarrick simply, before turning off towards the cargo bays.

He returned within a few minutes, the knuckles of his hands were now bruised and bloodied, but his hands no longer shook. He was breathing hard. It was telling that the crew was gathered together around their single communal table. Even Mai, usually such a solitary creature, was curled up in a ball on the edge of the chair.

“I’ll put a jug of coffee on,” Kairon said simply.

“Use the good stuff?” Asmus asked quietly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kairon replied. They were damaged, all of them. The events of the last two days were a blur in his mind, but it hurt to even think on them. He had no idea whether this was something you could shrug off, or something that would change them all. They would talk about it, as a group, but that time wasn’t now. For now, they had coffee and got the hand-made cake out of the freezer they’d been saving. He sat there, with one arm around his nephew’s shoulders, wondering how she was doing. He couldn’t get the image of her face out of his mind. It wasn’t that she caked in blood in this mental image, it was that she was angry – at him. He imagined she wouldn’t speak to him again now.

As if reading his thoughts, Jarrick grumbled beside him: “Try and talk to her, when we get there.”

“Yeah, even though you’re really stupid, you should try,” Asmus agreed.

“You’re joking? We’ve been through hell and back and your fascination with my attempt at a social life is what you talk about?” Kairon asked incredulously. Everyone tried to smile. It was what this crew did: attempt to push through hardship with humour. Looking at their faces now was almost more disheartening than the blank expressions.

 

[Malia Afredane]

"I don't know. I yelled at him. That usually makes guys not like you."

From that point on, the ride to Sullust was a quiet one, as Rusty hooked up an IV for fluids and glucose and hit her with some sedatives. When she woke up almost a day later, she was curled in her own bed, and they were on Sullust. She was a little sore, but the bacta patch on her nose had healed it up and she felt right as rain. The sedatives stopped her from dreaming, allowing her body to to just heal.

Right next to the spaceport, there was a diner that had a decent reputation for having good food and service for the spacers that traveled through the capital. Rusty was forcing Mal into being around people, part of getting over trauma was to not cut yourself off from other people. Mal seemed alright so far. When the GA officials found out what the TU had done to them, they had sent them straight over to the infirmary to see their healers. One of the Jedi touched her head and Mal's memories of the last few days seemed faded. She knew she had been tortured, but the edge of the fear was gone. The polite older woman had explained that she smoothed the hurt out a bit. It would still be there but it would allow Mal to process it in a more beneficial way over time. Sounded like more crazy mental stuff to Mal, but she wasn't half the mess she had been when they finally allowed her to get back to Gracie. They'd also given her a voucher for a trip to their mud spas and she was saving that one. She wasn't sure how she felt about sleeping in mud.

She sat in the booth at the diner, scrolling through jobs on her datapad, looking for something promising they could pick up here and drop someplace else. Her plate was mostly clean, she didn't like the fries with her sandwich so she'd only picked at them. She had like 4 sodas though and the sugary stuff was perking her right up. She looked up at Rusty who had been exceeding polite the last days. He was back to calling her Captain, but she had liked it when he called her Mal. Felt more like a friend than a business partner.

"There's nothing good here. Some contraband goods to be run to Naboo. The pay's low though."

[member="Kairon Rees"] [member="Rusty"]