Marla zipped up her leather jacket then drew her hold-out blaster from her waistband holster in the small of her back. The first night she and Sorah had been away from their old lives hadn't been nice. It'd been in an old abandoned rail yard and they'd slept in an old plasteel crate they'd found. The place was notorious for vagabonds, addicts, and petty thieves. Most of the homeless here weren't the kind you took pity on and gave change to, but rather the mentally unstable bordering on violently insane. Neither the cops nor the religious missionaries came down here, and it was for good reason.
Some of the denizens who inhabited this place were beginning to take notice of her now, and she was starting to regret having Sorah meet her here, although it had seemed a logical choice at the time. Marla held her blaster in a conspicuous position, hoping to deter some of interest she had drawn.
It struck her as strange that the last time she was here, the place hadn't seemed nearly as dangerous. Either it had changed or she had, and she suspected that she had grown accustomed to her new life, and that even though she often dealt with seedier element in her new-found profession, it was at least an upper-class of low-life scum she now dealt with.
Marla was beginning to worry that Sorah hadn't been able to make it, or worse: she had, but had not fared well when she arrived. Shivers ran down her spine at the thought. She didn't want to begin contemplating the fates that may have befallen her friend here.
Suddenly a hunched and cloaked figure who had been shuffling around pulled back it's hood just a bit and spoke in a hushed tone. "You seem to have forgotten how to blend in." Marla recognized that voice. It was one that she had been longing to hear for a long time now.
She threw her arm around the hunched woman. "C'mon old mother, let's get you out of this place," she said in a kindly voice, not loudly, but strongly enough that those nearby would overhear. It never hurt to be too careful.
As they were leaving, two foul-smelling Rodian males who had the look of drug addicts if one judged by their sallow, cracked skin and trembling hands. "Koona tchuta, chik youngee?" One of them said.
Marla rolled her eyes. "Chuba vopa tah nee choo, con bukee?" she asked, shoving her blaster into his snout. It was pretty clear they hadn't noticed the weapon before. "Haba uba naga du newpa bocha? Tagwa?"
Both Rodians slowly raised their hands and began backing away. "Chut chut nagoosa," they bother murmured, clearly having decided to find easier prey elsewhere.
Sorah looked at Marla. "Poodoo oomas."
"Tagwa," Marla replied.
They made their way out of the abandoned rail yard without any further trouble, although it was a couple klicks before they arrived at the location where Marla had parked her speeder.
Once they were in and under way, the two women finally relaxed a bit.
"It's so good to see you, Marla," Sorah said. "Thank you for helping me."
Marla reached over and took Sorah's hand, giving it a squeeze. "You don't need to thank me. You know that I'd do anything for you, don't you?" She glanced over at the other woman.
"I've always known that, at least deep down." A comfortable silence fell as both women heard the words that weren't spoken, that didn't need to be spoken. Finally Sorah spoke again. "What now?"
"Well... first I'm going to take you to one of my company's safe houses so you can clean up. You look like you've been to Hell and back," Marla said.
"I feel like it."
"Then you can tell me what you learned from that assassin, and we'll go from there."
"That's just it," Sorah said. "I got very little information from him. He has a pretty high tolerance for pain."
Marla sighed. "That's going to make it a bit tougher to track the hit back to where ever it came from... too bad you couldn't have left him alive or I might have been able to get something out of him. Our company has some tools that I have access too." She looked over at her friend, who sat staring out the wind screen.
"Wait... Sorah... please tell me you didn't leave him alive." Her mouth dropped open. "You did, didn't you? Oh Sorah... that's a massive risk! So many things could go wrong!"
Sorah grabbed her friend's hand and looked pleadingly at her. "I don't have a choice, Marla. This guy is my only link to finding who put that hit out, and I can't lose it... for Karla's sake!"
Marla thought for a minute. "Damn, that was stupid, Sorah... okay... time for cleanup later... let's go see your prisoner and make him talk!"
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