We own the sky

[nonune]

Nar Shaddaa, the cesspit at the bottom of the Hutt Cartel’s pile of wealth. A place for their slaves and decadence, where crime lords and Moffs went to hide projects and items they didn’t want the rest of the Galaxy to know about. The colors were brilliant but blurred by the pollution that rippled up from the foundries below. Mighty power cores that lit the garish skyline of the ecumenopolis. At least in the inner core they had to be run cleanly.

And where he learned the truth of the ways of the Galaxy. That Peace could be brought low by the actions of the few, even in the face of a threat against the entire galaxy. Why was he back?

One hell of a payday.

Darkness was falling on yet another night, down in the streets of the skyslums one wouldn’t know. Bright pinks and garish yellows advertised this sin or that. Sharik knew not to follow the advertisements, he knew where to get what he wanted, even here. The folds of his dark trench coat held his holdout blaster and tools for the job, especially his three flasks of Corellian whiskey. Working for the Hutts didn’t bother him.

Not even for Pucia the Hutt. A middling rank Hutt who had put together this little job, to steal some wealthy crime lord’s latest in his nesting dolls of space yachts. While he had met some of the worm's servants when parking the Starlight, the only contact he had had with the crew was over the local datanet. The Starlight was waiting at the vile creature’s pleasure palace, ready to take him, the crew and his credits far from this place. A quick jaunt off world till the heat died down.

This was no solo job though, a normal crime lord had paranoid levels of security, this one even more so than normal it seemed. Something about being a racist, of the lists of sins of those that existed in this hellhole it was a minor offense.

Mother would be pissed I did so little homework on this one, but the credits are good and who cares who we steal from here. Thoughts slipped through his mind as he glared away another urchin eying his pockets. Soon his crew would be arriving, and the excitement would begin. Until then it was only a waiting game as he watched the crime lord’s security surreptitiously from the crowds of folk wandering from one sin to the next.

Sharik’s job was pinpoint flying, his team would manage the security and doors. Without really admitting it to himself, that’s why he took this job. It required flying a pleasure yacht through the towering skyslums to land on a pad far to small for the speeds he would need to be pushing. That’s why he was hired, perhaps as entertainment for the Hutts, perhaps just to tick off the racist that used their world to hide secrets. Probably a combination of the two. 

Possibly an application for an even larger job if the crew worked well together.

[Poludnica]

Eli was nervous. The young near-human could feel his palms sweating which forced him to wipe them on his worn pants. Not that it would make any difference to the discolored, stained material. The boy tried to hide how mortified he was under stern and aloof expression, but it didn’t really look convincing. In his baggy, too big work suit Eli looked more like a scared teenager than a tough thief about to rob one of the most powerful people in the Core.

The slums of the Corellian sector turned into a cleaner Corellian industrial complex. This was where Cassius Liviana rented a large hangar space to store his collection of opulent yachts. Eli didn’t know the man, he knew of the man and his company - LivCo. The half-Zabrak thought that bottom barrel citizens like him never had a chance to meet someone of this stature. It didn’t really stop them from stealing crap.

The boy didn’t like the idea of being a criminal. Eli first tried to rationalize the act with a notion of social justice. Cassius owned more assets than 98% of the galactic population. A theft of a yacht he had dozens couldn’t hurt him but would save Eli’s mother. This reasoning seemed valid, yet didn’t wash away the guilt that bubbled in the back of the boy’s head. When his friend offered him this gig, the young near-human was at the rock bottom. No money, no prospect of money. No honest money of course. Nar Shaddaa shady element always looked for new blood. Three years ago Eli had promised his mother to never take part in illicit exploits. To find honest work, honest girl, and lead an honest life. That was before she fell ill. Before Exchange shot up their small bar just for being in the way. Honest people had nothing to look for on Nar Shaddaa. Eli was painfully aware that he would either swallow his pride or die from hunger. Stealing from old, rich humans looked better on an underground resume than streetwalking or drug running.

The crowd around him thickened. Workers were changing shifts, cargo was being transported in and out of the factories. No one paid attention to a lanky half-Zabrak - Nar Shaddaa cared little for species. That was why his mother moved to the Hutts moon. Away from her native, human-dominated Corellia and uncomfortable questions.

Eli navigated toward one of the back alleys. That was the meeting point. He inhaled deeply, trying to stop himself from hyperventilating. Panic lingered at the edge of the boy’s consciousness. His skin turned ashy and cold sweat bedewed high forehead. Don’t throw up. Just...do...don’t...throw up. He leaned against the wall before sending out a holo signal to the others. Someone stood farther back. A dark-haired human man. Was he a part of the crew? Eli didn’t know and preferred not to ask. The stranger would get a proper message in a second. The half-Zabrak’s role was to be a co-pilot of some hotshot ace. Beyond that, Eli didn’t know a thing.

[nonune]

His personal datapad gave him a buzz and Sharik scanned the crowd. There was only one reason it would notify him of anything for the next few hours. That meant his contact was here. A holonet pulse like that would go unnoticed by the security folks. Scanning the crowd he saw a young half Zabrak that was looking almost green. He thought he knew this one, something about a bar being shot up. Crossfire made folk do strange things.

Great another kid. He had seen enough kids sent to their deaths for someone else's profit. Least this one didn't look entirely gung ho, maybe the kid had at least some idea of what he was about to get himself into. The eager ones were the ones that got themselves killed in stupid ways.

These were his thoughts as he saw his contact approach, or at least who he thought was his contact. Stealing from Cassius didn't bother Sharik in the least, men with that level of wealth would only notice if they made enough noise for him to notice that his hanger had been broken into. If they were quiet enough the nesting doll rich wouldn't notice a thing for several months. His staff may... But considering the man's reputation, Sharik doubted they would report the loss. Fear of retribution motivated many here on Nar Shaddaa. 

Taking another swig from his flask he sauntered over to lean against the wall next to Eli, and offered the young Zabrak his flask. Just a pair of street scum sharing a drink. Nothing out of place even in the cleaner streets of the Corellian industrial complex. Quietly so his voice was lost in the noise of the street chatter his voice came out far cleaner than he walked. Sharik might have been buzzed, but he affected a walk that said he was far more intoxicated than he really was. Just another drunk to be ignored by the security forces.

"Pucia's people say you know a way into that paranoid's deathtrap of a hangar. You sure you are up to this slick?" His voice was sharp, but not unkind. If this kid was who he thought he was, whose family owned one of the better small dive bars on Nar Shaddaa, the half-Zabrak needed the money more than Sharik did at the moment.

[Poludnica]

The man Eli was previously eyeing walked toward him with confidence and purpose. Here we go… The boy inhaled deeply, desperate not to look like a scared idiot in front of the stranger. There was nothing in the approaching human that screamed: ‘hardened gangster’. On the contrary, he looked like a normal, hungover Nar Shaddaa denizen. When the human walked closer, Eli almost choked at the sharp smell clouding him. Digested booze with a dash of despair. The man offered no introduction, instead went straight to business. Eli measured him with a surprised, wide-eyed gaze. “Am I up to this?” The near-human coughed, gently pushing away the offered flask. The human was drunk. All Corellians sounded as if they were a little inebriated but this one was clearly intoxicated.

“Are you?” Eli insisted, vaguely gesturing at the flask. He looked around, panicked someone was observing them. “We are supposed to pilot this thing.” Eli whispered, feeling a resurgence of crippling fear.

The boy dropped heavy bag he was carrying around. His long fingers were trembling as they unfastened the zippers. It was better to finish the theft as soon as possible before the human turned skunk-drunk. “I have a cleaning crew uniforms and a security pass. It will get as into the hangar but we have to figure out how to stea...uh…” Eli glanced at the crowd walking the main street. “Acquire ship passcodes.” From inside the bag peered at them a bundle of clothes with LivCo insignia. A faint bloodstain colored one of the cuffs. The boy cursed under his breath, feeling sour bile gathering in the back of the throat.

“We need a place to change.” Eli had noted before zipping the bag up, then looked at the man with a glimmer of hope in his chartreuse eyes. “It’s not only you? Right?” He asked. How this was supposed to work with only two of them? Maybe that was the Hutt’s idea of a joke: a pissed like a newt human and a scared shitless hybrid try to steal a yacht…

[nonune]

Capping the flask when the boy wouldn't take a sip, he slipped it inside his jacket with a shrug. The boy's nervousness was an annoyance that was sure, and a little bit to take his edge off was exactly what he needed. But he wasn't going to force him into anything...

"Suit yourself kid, little tip though..."

Calm and sure he knelt down to zip the bag closed in one smooth movement. His breath might stink of a drunk, but his motions were suddenly and quickly those of an experienced fighterpilot. He was up to it, "Never let them see your true self. Especially here."

Nar Shaddaa was a place they were always judging you. It was best to be underestimated.

A brilliant calm smile bloomed across his face as he looked up at the boy, "Yes I am up to this, still not sure about you though."

A sigh escaped his lips. Blood on the cleaning outfits was a bit of a complication, nothing a few folds wouldn't hide. At least it was on the sleeve. Blue collar workers rolling up their sleeves was a universal constant, and door guards are often not the sharpest tools in the chest. At least they also had access cards. Into the hangar was going to be a cinch. 

Getting into the ship was going to be a lot harder than he thought.

"Guess we are going to need to wing it kid. First lets change clothes." A quick look around the port to see if anyone was watching them was all he needed to spot a place for it. A Twi'lek just returning home for his shift, his door on the opposite side of the alleys from the LivCorp hangar. "Follow my lead."

Standing up he left the kid behind with the confidence of a man who knew he'd be followed, the drunk swagger back in his step as he timed his movements to the sounds of the repulsor vehicles in the area. Quietly he slipped to the now open door and put a foot in front of the sensor that would hold it open. A quick flick of his wrist, a subtle movement of his thumb and out flew the blue white taurus of plasma that surrounded the Twi'lek and dropped him with a stun blast from the heavy pistol at his hip. The blast's sound hidden by the roar of a passing airspeeder.

Quick and smoothly he spun the gun around and then back into his holster. Snapping his coat closed he did a quick scan of the nearby area before he looked back at the kid before heading inside, "Coming Kid, or is this becoming a one man op?" He said confidently while holding the door open from the inside. His only answer to whether there were more people coming.

[Poludnica]

Eli started to regret not taking the guy up on the offer. Maybe dying drunk was better than dying sober. Would they get tortured if caught? Or worse? Tortured and then sold as slaves? Was a slave’s life bad? With every passing thought, his anxiety grew. The human must have noticed it and knelt next to him. His movements were quick and precise. Some kind of a professional, for sure. Nobody was this swift with brain swimming in booze without some solid training. Maybe even military training. “Uh...huh.” Eli agreed with an unhappy grunt. There was nothing he could do about being scared. Too often, when people, especially humans, saw him, they expected a Zabrak: a courageous, aggressive, reckless hot-head. Eli was anything but. His personality was more akin to a cautious human than a bold Zabrak.

” I’m fine.” Eli insisted, refusing to look at the man. He was somewhat relieved the stranger took charge. Probably not his first rancor rodeo. The near-human stalked after his companion. It became clear the man was faking half symptoms of his inebriation. Eli mentally congratulated the Corellian on the simple brilliancy of the idea.

The man slipped past the open doors and held them open with his foot. There was a burst of blue light and faint, fizzing sound drowned by the nearby traffic. Eli felt his heart racing. It looked like a blaster fire. Shit. Shit. Shit. The boy ducked inside, almost tripping over the Twi’leki body that laid sprawled on the filthy floor. ” Holy shit.” Eli whispered, noting with relief that the blue male chest rose and fall with uneven breathing. Only stunned. He wasn’t a murderer, yet.

”Ok.Ok.” The near-human breathed in deeply and threw the bag on the floor. The inside of the room was a dingy, stinky, and sad place. ” We got this.” His newly found confidence was not sudden struck of courage, but rather stress-related dissociation which telltales showed in the boy’s demeanor. Eli’s movement became stiff and deliberate, features morphed into a blank mask. He was on the verge of hyperventilating but behaved as if his brain lost awareness of fear response.

The janitor jumpsuits were too big for both of them. Without a word of comment, Eli began to put a pair on himself. It got stuck on the heel of his left foot. The near-human fell on top of the unconscious Twi’lek, but not before letting out a scared yelp. The blue male didn’t react, aside from a faint, gnarly fart that Eli accidentally squizzed out of him. Nothing went well today...Not a thing.

[nonune]

Once they were both inside the smuggler went about a quick raid of the Twi’lek’s abode. Finding what he wanted didn’t take long, a bottle of whatever this blue bastard drank. After a quick swig of the foul drink at least brought a slickness to his mind, gone as quick as it came. “Ugh, get some tas…”

The comment was cut off by a slightly panicked squeal as his partner fell into his stunned target. Pinching the bridge of his nose he set the bottle down and extended a hand to help the poor lad up. “Tell me kid, this your first time doing something like this?”

After helping him up the trench coat was dropped and he grabbed the other jumpsuit and quickly pulled it on over his cloths, finding he had the one with blood on its sleeve was only a minor inconvenience, as he rolled up that sleeve and the evidence of skullduggery disappeared in folds of cloth. Almost reverently he folded his jacket up after pulling a few bits of slicing equipment from the pockets and placing those in the pockets.

He also loathingly removed his gun belt. Having a gun was more common than not around these parts, but there was no reason to make the guards look twice at them.

“Step one is to breathe, kid. Get that heart rate down. If you are this jittery in front of the guards they are likely to search us.” His voice was smooth and calm as he handed his gun belt and coat to the kid to put in the sac. Looking down at the Twi’lek he grabbed the blue man’s arms and dragged him onto a couch before pouring out a bit of the swill the alien drank and putting the bottle in his hands.

“This one will just wake up and think he drank too much. Just another night on Nar Shaddaa. Take a moment kid, calm yourself. Next comes the hardest part. There will be a droid that we can hack to get maintenance access to the ship inside. Rich bastards like this guy always have a fleet of maintenance droids. His guards are going to be the problem, we need you calm to get by them.” Again he pulled his flask of Correllian whiskey and took a swig to clean his mouth out before offering it to the young Zabrak.

“Not like you are drinking to get drunk. Just a swig to soften those edges.”