774. Behind You - Raezyr

Later that evening found the two ladies once again back in a seedier section of town. This time they were apprehensively watching a backwater night club frequented by mostly non-human species from the roof of the building across the street. Sorah Kavel handed the macro binoculars to her friend. "This isn't going to be easy. We're going to stick out like a gundark at a Cratzien festival in that place."

"I'd like to think I'm a bit more attractive than a gundark," Marla laughed, holding the binoculars up. After watching for a moment she added, "We might stick out a bit, but I think we'll be fine. I've seen one or two humans enter or exit the place, and almost every being is armed in some fashion."

They talked quietly, formulating a plan before eventually packing up and heading for the club. "Times like this I wish we had some more back up," Sorah said to her friend as they were crossing the street.

"You say that like we have any backup," Marla said grimly. If things didn't go well, it could get pretty ugly.

The Swokes Swokes who stood guard at the door, acting as a bouncer glanced at them and grunted something in what the ladies assumed was Swoken, but didn't stop them as they walked past and into the establishment. The bar itself was exactly what they expected it to be. Racous music filled the place, but not so loud that business couldn't be conducted quietly in the booths located in the alcoves around the perimeter of the room. No serving droids were found here. The kinds of people who frequented the place were secretive and didn't like to take the chance of some altered serving robot eaves dropping on them when delivering their ale or other grog. It was dark, and smokey in here, as well as hot and humid and packed to the brim.

They pushed their way to the bar and ordered drinks, then asked where they might find Deevum. The barkeep didn't seem suspicious at their request and immediately nodded his head in the direction of one of the darker booths where a Rodian was sitting by himself, nursing a drink and studying a data pad intently. They paid for their drinks, thanked the bartender and headed toward this Deevum.

He was a typical looking Rodian male, that is to say he was green with a long snout, cone shaped antennae and large, round, multifaceted black eyes. Sorah assumed that he probably had some distinguishing character that other Rodians could discern, but to her they all looked alike.

He looked up as they approached. "May I help you?" he inquired.

"Oh, so you speak Basic?" Marla replied.

"Yes. I find that in my line of work it helps to speak many languages fluently. I also speak Huttese, Bocce, Dosh, Mando'a and Durese in addition to Rodese. I also understand Shyriiwook, but of course no one can speak that but a Wookie. How may I help you ladies?" He said. They were surprised at just how good his Basic was despite the strange accent and the tendency to emphasize words incorrectly on occasion since most Rodians didn't bother learning much more than Huttese besides their own language.

"I hear you're in the information brokering service, and information is what I need," Marla said.

"Most information can be had... for the right price," Deevum replied. "What is it you're looking for?"

"The name of the being or beings who hired this man recently," Marla replied, pulling out a data pad and tossing it on the table. On the screen was a picture they had taken of the would-be assassin after the healing meds had taken affect.

Deevum glanced at the picture, then looked up at the two ladies. "I'm sorry, but client confidentiality is never for sale. Now if there is nothing else I can do for you, then I'll have to ask you to move along." He started to pick up his data pad again.

Sorah had had enough. She stepped past Marla and slammed the data pad down on the table. "Look, friend. That sleemo killed my boyfriend and tried to kill me. We can do this the easy way or the hard way, but in the end you'll talk just like he did," she snarled. She leaned in low and menacing. "Choice is yours, and frankly, I'm in a bad mood. I kind of hope you choose the hard way."

The Rodian gave an expression she could only assume was supposed to be a smile. "I think you should look around. You're outnumbered. Making trouble will only end badly for you."

"Wrong answer," she said and grabbed him by the shirt collar, yanked him to his feet then slammed him against the wall. Instantly the music stopped and weapons all over the club were drawn and pointed at Sorah and Marla.

Marla stood with her back to her friend, two blaster pistols drawn and aiming back at the hundreds of guns pointed in their directions. "We just came for some information," Marla yelled at the room full of hostile alien beings. "Put your weapons away, we'll finish our business and be on our way."

No one moved.

Deevum laughed. "If you take your appendages off of me now, maybe I can convince them to let you live."

"Tell me what I want to know, or else," Sorah said.

The Rodian chuckled again. "Or else, what?"

Sorah slipped something out of her pocket and held the object over her head for everyone to see. "Or I blow us all to the next dimension," she said, then flipped the switch on the thermal detonator.

The room was silent except for the beeping of the tiny nuclear thermal device.

773. Behind You - Raezyr

The cool night air blew through Marla Greywick's hair in the open cock pit of the speeder. It almost felt like old times. She looked over to the woman sitting beside her who was chewing her nails with worry and smiled to herself. Sorah always did chew her nails when she was worried.

But she needn't be worried now. They had finally gotten a name from the assassin. As soon as they had, Marla had mercifully put an energy slug into his head, not that he deserved any mercy. He had confessed to being completely unaware of Sorah's former life, meaning he hadn't had any qualms about killing an innocent waitress just to make a cred or two.

Marla had always despised bounty hunters. Despite the code of honor some of them claimed to live by, in the end they were all scum.

She looked back over to her friend who was still chewing on her nails. "You don't think that it's... ," she began but trailed off without finishing the thought.

Sorah looked over. Marla didn't have to finish. They both knew exactly whom she was referring to. "No. Not him. No matter how angry he might have been at us disappearing, he wouldn't send a bounty hunter to do the job, he'd come himself."

They sat in silence for a moment. "Does he know about Karla?"

Sorah didn't hesitate. "No. And he never will. And she's better off never knowing what her real father does for a living. As far as she knows, he's dead, and that's how it will stay."

Marla reached over and took her friend's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I think you've made a smart decision."

-------------------

A short while later they set down on the landing dock at Initech Security. It was after hours and not many people were around at this time of night. The two women entered and made their way to Marla's desk, where she opened a drawer and removed a passcard. She tossed it to Sorah. "See that door on the other side of the room. Grab what we're going to need while I check with some of my contacts in the police force and see if I can get a quick rundown on this name."

Sorah Kavel smiled and headed for the room her friend had indicated. When she arrived she swiped the passcard. It asked her to input a password. She almost went back to ask what it was, but instead decided to take a guess. She smiled as the screen informed her the password was accepted and the light on the lock switched from red to green. Some things don't change, she thought to herself.

When she entered the room she stood gaping for a moment. The room wasn't just a storage room but a whole armory. Racks of weapons ranging from small hold-out blasters to large, long-range energy slug throwing sniper rifles. There was armor ranging from light-weight Echani made body armor to full body battle armor to personal energy shield generators.

She grabbed a bag and started loading what they thought they'd need, but several times she caught herself just wandering around and looking at everything. She couldn't recall ever seeing a more complete array before.

Apparently she had taken longer than she planned. "You going to camp out in here or what?" Marla chuckled as she entered.

"Sorry, I just didn't expect all this," Sorah replied. "What in the worlds do you guys need all this stuff for?"

Marla began packing a bag for herself. "We don't just do small-time body guard stuff or corporate security. We also do major security jobs, augmenting the government at times during political events."

"They're not going to mind you borrowing this stuff?"

"No, lots of the folks here do freelance side jobs in their off time," Marla explained. "They let us have access to this stuff for a nominal fee... as long as it comes back in good condition."

As they finished packing Marla explained what she had found out about the name. Her contacts in the police had been able to tell her that the being was a Rodian male who was known mostly as an information broker, paying for tidbits of information that he thought he could make a few creds on to the right buyer.

"It's nobody I've ever heard of," Sorah said, puzzled. "And he doesn't sound like the kind of being that normally deals in hits or bounties."

"I agree," Marla said, checking the load on her blaster before holstering it. "Let's go see what this Deevam has to say for himself."

772. No Place Like Home 1 - Trychon

Trychon watched with a sense of apathy suppressing his sense of wonder as he approached the planet.  It was foreign to him from this distance, as he'd only seen it from space once before; the day he left.  He tried to remember how long it had been.  Six, seven years now?  He couldn't really remember for sure, it'd been so long.  Even just a few years ago, it was a whole different lifetime for him in more way than one.

He tapped his sensors a few times, and did a search to find the small village that had been his 'home' in that other life time.  It wasn't hard to figure out, as he was only able to pick up three of them.  'Home' appeared to be the second largest one, based on the nearby mountain range he remembered.

He set the small shuttle to land via autopilot just outside the settlement, so he could go in on his own terms on foot and not make too much of a fuss.  As the shuttle began to sit down half a klick outside the nearest building, the dust kicked up around the vessel and it struck him as odd that he didn't remember the planet seeming this dry all those years ago.  There was still plenty of seemingly healthy plants around, but there just seemed to be much more dirt as well.

He grabbed his small backpack which he'd prepacked with the gear he would need, and he set down the ramp.  He hadn't traveled far when the irony of him walking into town unannounced and unexpected hit him.  It was eerily similar to how he'd arrived as a child, or so the story had been told to him anyway.  At least he had clothes this time.  He wondered if it was a joke played on himself by his subconscious.  He did have an odd sense of humor, afterall.

He decided not to dwell on the irony of the situation, and simply allowed what was left of his younger self to enjoy the nearly unpolluted air he'd grown up with, and the distinct smell of the planet he grew up on.

The town looked exactly as it was in his mind as he approached.  He realized it was surely worn down since he had left, though there was some signs of the occasional routine maintenance to the buildings.  Perhaps he'd aged it in his mind as time and the village wore on.

Knowing it wouldn't help him blend in at all, he tried to act casually as he entered the bounds of the town.  There was very little activity to blend into, other than a few others simply walking along going about their business as he pretended to be.

Problem being that everyone in this town knew each other as well as they knew that they had not received outside visitors more than a handful of times since his own arrival as a toddler.  He was instantly garnering interested looks, and it was only a matter of time before he was approached.

He had no plan for how to handle that when it happened.  He really was dumbfounded by his Master-in-a-holocron's insistence he visit the planet he grew up on, and had resisted for some time.  Then when Raezyr left to go on one of his errands and had planned on taking some additional time to search for Dianna, Trychon had run out of excuses.  Even his inanimate master knew it.

So he'd come back.  Hours before leaving hyperspace, he'd entreated the holocron one last time for a purpose or general plan to the visit, but was dismissed rather summarily.  He'd already been told that his future and learning depended on it, and that was all he was going to be told it seemed.

He had never even been told if he had a task to do in the town, or if it was the more likely trip to one of the Sith ruins he knew were in the area.  Even those he had searched fairly exhaustively as a teenager without finding much.  Granted, he had known nothing of their meaning or what to look for, just that he was drawn to the occasional artifacts he ran across.

Then again, he thought... he still didn't know what he was looking for, which was why he decided to satiate his curiosity about the state of the town he'd first known before moving into the forests to hopefully satisfy a long-dead Sith Lord.

When someone inevitably challenged his arrival, would they recognize him?  He knew everyone would remember when reminded... he was the oddest thing to happen to the town in generations, and he knew it.  Still, it wasn't just the years since he'd left the planet. It had also been years since he'd left the settlement to live on his own at that point.

All in all, he had not been a regular member of this community in well over a decade.

"Shun?"  Trychon heard someone yell across the road.  He cursed.

Not only was he recognized, but the first to recognize him just had to be one of the idiot boys he had classes with growing up.  If he was forced to bet, Trychon would have bet that this one never did really grow up.

"That is you!  Shun!"

The Sith rolled his eyes and reminded himself to be patient at least for a short while longer, while he figured out what his purpose was here.  He'd have to make up some story explaining his reappearance.  It wouldn't be hard.  In fact, he decided it was probably best to act as though he hadn't changed at all.  At least for a while.

He took a breath and turned around to face the man-boy.  It was Pon, one of the most annoying individuals the Sith had ever known.

"Don, is it?"  Trychon laughed nervously, while half flinching at his own joke.  "Seriously, Pon... that wasn't my real name even when we were kids."

Pon smiled, probably in response to the fake flinch, but it worked well enough for Trychon.  "Fine."  He agreed.  "I'm not calling you by that goof of a name you called yourself when you went to live in the forest."

Trychon nodded in reluctant agreement.  Given a choice, he'd probably strike the man down for being such an intolerable pain when they were younger as well as in the present.  Instead, he would allow him to call him by the name the townsfolk had given him, all those years ago.

"Alright then... Shaan it is.  Want a drink?"  Pon offered.

"Badly."  Trychon admitted.

771. Behind You - Raezyr

Sorah Kavel lead her friend down the darkening alley. Street lights were beginning to pop on here and there, but it was still light enough to see without them. They had left their speeder several klicks away in a safe place and walked the rest of the way. No need for the local police force to check out a strange vehicle parked in a deserted alley for several hours, not tonight anyway.

The two women raised the overhead door just high enough to duck under, then closed it again. It was a moment before Sorah found the light switch.

"What an incredible smell you have here," Marla said in obvious disgust, just as the glow strips flickered on. She looked at the gore covered man strapped to the durasteel chair which was the obvious source of the smell. It had apparently gotten quite warm in the enclosed warehouse with no ventilation and the blood and open wounds had begun to sour.

The man didn't stir as they approached. "Well, he was still alive when I left him," Sorah said, doubtful that her prisoner had remained so during her absence.

Marla opened the black case she had brought with her and pulled out a pair of black disposable gloves. She  snapped them into place before touching the man's neck, feeling for a pulse. "He's alive still, but barely. You sure didn't leave me much to work with."

"He wasn't talking, and I was getting desperate... and emotional," Sorah said apologetically.

Marla chuckled. "Never a good combination." She turned back to the case and pulled out several injectors, then turned her full attention back to the prisoner.

Sticking him in neck with the first one, he inhaled sharply and his eyes flew open as his body went rigid for a moment. He looked around wildly eventually focusing on the two women. "I see you brought friends to our little party," he said defiantly, although with some effort. It was clear the pain was great.

"Now, now... don't be so flippant," Marla said as she started sticking other injectors into various locations on his body: shoulders, thighs, neck, buttocks.

He began to looked confusedly at her. "What are you doing to me?"

"Yeah, what are you doing to him?" Sorah demanded. She had noticed that the wounds on her prisoner seemed to be closing a bit and already they were no longer oozing. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were giving him bacta stims and pain killers."

"First I shot him with some adrenaline to wake him up and dull the pain a bit, then I did inject him with bacta stims and pain killers," Marla replied.

Sorah stared at her friend gape mouthed while the man chuckled. "If you're trying to get information out of me by healing me, I think you need to look up the definition of 'torture' again."

"Please tell me you're doing this so that he can take more punishment or something like that," Sorah said, still not understanding.

Marla smiled. "Oh, no, nothing like that," she began. "See, the technique I'm about to use works strictly on the brain, makes it feel and sense things that aren't really happening... but if there is a substantial amount of real pain, it will override what I'm about to do."

"What are you about to do?" Sorah asked.

"I'm going to inject him with some experimental nano-machines. Originally, they were designed to be therapeutic, to heal certain parts of the brain. It works just like it should on certain species... but in human brains... not so much..." she explained.

Marla turned to the prisoner. "Before we do this, would you like to tell us what we want to know? I promise a quick and painless death if you cooperate."

The man snarled. "The Hell with both of you." he cursed, then spit.

"That's too bad for you," Marla said. She handed the injector to Sorah. "Would you like to do the honors?"

Sorah smiled. "Absolutely." She took the object and walked over to the prisoner. She bent down and as she jabbed the auto-injecting syringe into his neck, she whispered, "This is for Dre."

770. Behind You - Raezyr

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!"