Smuggler Archive

Staring at the systems status screen didn’t provide any hope for a quick repair job. The hyperdrive motivator was slag, the power-couplings attached to the sublight drive had been burned out. Fused cables, ruptured conduits, the whole power system was a mess. What’s worse, the cargo hold was full of processed spice ready to be distributed. And one unhappy Hutt was waiting for its delivery.

There was one upside. The Imperial Cruiser that left me in this state, had little chance of finding my small freighter in a nebula and surrounded by countless asteroids. Their sensors would never be able to pick up any signatures from my ship, as at the moment, only the basic systems were on line. The nebula, too, obscured most sensor readings as well. For all intents and purposes, I was invisible. I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, so I’d need the spare time to jury-rig repairs till I could find a safe port to straighten this out. This had the unmistakable stink of a setup.

So much for a profit on this run, I thought to myself.

I started calculating which systems I could do without, in order to bypass the scorched circuitry. I did have a pair of old power-couplings that I decided not to throw out when I installed the heavier Dekk-6's that were now useless. The Hyperdrive was going to be a different story, but it wasn’t as important. I’m only 4 days away from the uncharted smuggler outpost of Port Haven. I can put down at the outpost there and at least send a message out to Jabba informing him of my misfortune, and reassure him that the delay will be short.

Wait a minute... Drex! Drexel Slykk was one of the galaxy’s best hyperdrive techs. If anybody could get me out of this jam, he could. Drex, old buddy, I hope you’re still there.

"Master Tarish,"a raspy synthesized voice interrupted, "I might suggest..."

"I don’t care what you suggest, One-three. Why don’t you get started replacing those burnt-out couplings. Meanwhile, im gonna see what I can do to reroute power back to the engines."

"But, I think we should..."

"Get to work." It was more of an order than a statement.

"Yes, sir" the droid said, as he shuffled off to busy himself replacing the couplings.

One-three was an older LE repair droid, LE-D13KB. Lucky 13, I whimmed. I’d always had bad luck, even before I bought the droid from some Jawas outside of Mos Eisley. In fact, my luck had generally improved since then. I mean, at least we’re still in one piece.

I went to work seeing what I could do about the cables that got fused. That last ion blast that hit us did far less damage to the ships subsystems than I’d expected. Effectively, it did burnout the engines, but generally everything else still worked.

Replacing the power couplings was the easy part. After One-Three had finished his task, I had him charge the reactor, and attempt to fire the engines.

"Ok, try her again" I called up to One-three from the access hatch in the floor of the cargo hold. Nothing happened. I’d try something else.

"Now?" Nothing. Again, made another adjustment.

The third try offered up a resistant whine, but still didn’t fire. Come on, baby, don’t quit on me now. She hummed to life, and I praised every deity throughout history for that sound. Once clear of the asteroids, I had One-Three fly while I cleaned up, and got some rest. He’d notify me the second something went wrong.

The thing about smugglers is that we’ve got small outposts scattered throughout the Outer Rim. Take Smuggler’s Run for example. Smuggler’s Run is an outpost that was built into a series of asteroids, right off a main hyperspace route. A lot of people know of it, but for the most part, only smugglers know of its location. Places like these are perfect for keeping a low profile, trading illegal goods and information, and also for repairs. All of which I needed right now. I desperately wanted to find out who set me up.

Once safely on the ground, I’d sent a message to Jabba, and let him know what had happened, but that I had his cargo, and would make the delivery, but I’d be a little late. Once I sent it, I exited the ship into the makeshift starport.

"Din!" a familiar voice greeted me. "How’ya been? And where’s that crazy droid of yours, I could use his help on this project I’ve got lined up." Drex ran up and gave me a hug that would make a wookie flinch. Drex was short, even for being a Zabrak. He’s all but retired from smuggling, since CorSec impounded his ship, and summarily stripped it down and auctioned it off. But, he knows his way around a hyperdrive better than anyone I know still in the business. "Hey, what happened to your ship?"

"I can’t prove it yet, but I think I was set up, Drex. Crossed paths with an Imp cruiser. They knew right were to find us and when to look for us there."

"Well, they weren’t the only ones looking for you recently. A good-looking girl, can’t remember her name. Ky or something like that. But she said she had something to give you. She didn’t sound to happy. Another old flame of yours? You old smoothie."

Great... "Uh, yeah... something like that... But listen, that’s not important right now. I need to ask you a favor. I have to make this drop, or I’m a dead-man. How soon can you get around to repairs?"

Drex laughed and said "Still working for the Hutts I see. Let me take a look, and I’ll see what I can do."

I went into the tavern, to have a drink and eat some real food. I say real, because I usually only packed Athea and protein wafers. They taste like plaster, but do the body good.It wouldsure be nice to eat something with flavor again. I quietly ate my meal in the corner of the tavern, but with that out of the way, I went up to the bar for drinks. I saw some familiar faces, mixed with some that I’d never seen. Not that I knew everyone in the galaxy. While we do like to operate independently, smugglers are a tight community, where an unfamiliar face is generally an old friend you’ve not met yet. I was introduced to a few new faces, I gave in to their prodding for exciting tales of smuggling runs, pirates, you know, the sorta stories that corrupts kids into criminals like me. Besides, what smuggler doesn’t like to talk about themselves.

The evenings conversations helped me relax, but didn’t offer up much information as to who tipped the Imperials as to my location. I did get a name of someone in Mos Eisley who could help... for a price. After a few drinks, I went back to the ship to check on Drex’s progress with the melted motivator.

"Din, you really need to be more careful." he said with a grin. "She’s fixed, and I’ll put it on your tab, this time, but you’re running out of favors that I owe you."

"Hey, I thought we had a nice set-up here... you scratch my back, I save you’re ass, it works out in the end."

He laughed "Yeah, you gotta point there. Hey, Din, there’s something I’d been wanting to ask you about... when you dust off... I want to ride along. I’d been wanting to leave this backwater world for sometime, but I always get distracted by something."

"Thinking of getting back into the business?"

"Maybe... hell, I dunno. Its just, I’ve seen all I want to see here. Besides, riding with you always leads to something exciting, or a pretty face. Either way, it works for me."

"Sure thing. Besides, I could use an extra set of hands. Grab what you need, and lets get out of here. Like I said, I gotta make this drop, before Jabba decides I’ve outlived my usefulness. After that, we’re headed to Mos Eisley. A guy there can help find out who set me up."

We made the delivery without a further hitch. But that didn’t ease the tingling in the back of my mind. Things were about to get ugly. I just knew it.

Mos Eisley

Tatooine’s hot blazing twin-suns were a stark contrast to the cool relatively dark interior of the Skifter. For someone looking for less-than-legal work, or in my case, someone looking for answers, Nar Shaddaa and Mos Eisley were the places to look. The guy I needed was here, in Mos Eisley.

I was here to find an information broker: a guy who knows a guy who knows what you want to know. Information comes with a price though, either in credits, or in the form of other information that someone else wants to know. This particular broker was a light-blue skinned rodian by the name of Keelo. I thought I’d snoop around and find out what I could about this Keelo. Its safe business to know who you’re dealing with, before dealing with them. I knew I wouldn’t be welcome at the Lucky Despot, so I scratched that off my list of sites to see. I might be able to swindle Drex into checking it out though. After all, he had a pocket-full of creds screaming to be gambled away, and the Despot would be the best place for him to do that. I’d have One-three eavesdropping at the starport. You’d be surprised to know how much those repair technicians over hear. Myself? I slipped through the back door of Chalmun’s cantina. My eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness of the cantina. I bellied up to the bar and ordered a drink. I was going non-alcoholic today, something kept telling me I was going to need my wits about me.

The cantina’s patrons this afternoon were no less than what you’d expect in a spaceport town. Generally the same local low-lives who frequently drank here, the spacers who was waiting for their cargo to be loaded or unloaded. The model Nodes were taking a break in between sets, so a really

good looking young lady took the stage, and began singing a song about waiting for her spacer boyfriend to return home again. If her looks didn’t stir you, her voice sure would. The song tore at your heart-strings, though not quite enough for a smuggler to consider retirement. Well, not this smuggler, anyway.

She sang a few more songs, and when she finished, those of us who’d been listening, applauded. She politely bowed and went over to an empty table near the stage. Opportunity knocked. I went over to her table, and introduced myself.

"You really made me consider an occupation change," I complimented. It was a lie, and the look in her eye said she knew I was lying. She smiled anyways. "I’m Taryne Guinn," I said with a roguish smile.

"Thanks, I’m Salle. I’m trying to save up my tips to by passage off this dusty planet. Its too plain, too hot, and not much opportunity for someone to make an honest living aside from moisture farming. Besides, I want to see the galaxy, live for the moment."

Opportunity knocked. "Where did you have in mind?" I asked. She raised an eyebrow at that comment. The look she gave me said ‘No chance, flyboy.’ Well... you can’t blame a guy for trying, right?

"Well, someplace like... Coronet, or some other busy city where I can get discovered, I know that won’t happen out here." she frowned. "Seems like every time I think my lucks about to change, something happens to kick me back down." It was still too tempting.

"You know... I do have my own ship. I could take you anywhere you wanted to go." For a change, I was honest... well mostly honest.

She laughed, "Mr. Guinn, I think I hardly know you well enough to travel with you alone." Like I said... mostly honest.

She only knew me by my alias, Taryne Guinn. With my present situation, I didn’t want word to get out that Capt. Din Tarish was in town. I needed to keep a low-profile for a while. That’s why the berthing records showed Capt. Taryne Guinn, and his ship, the Pure Sabacc were here. I couldn’t afford taking any chances.

The Skifter was equipped with an illegal transponder that could be reprogrammed in an instant. In other words, I could rename my ship faster than a trigger-happy blaster-jockey could draw. Her namesake is an illegal gambling device used in sabacc and a variety of other card games. By making a barely noticeable movement, you could change the face value of the card. Another thing that was misleading, was her appearance. Superficially, she hadn’t changed much since the day I’d salvaged her from a graveyard. Grimy faded-white paint, with the multicolored patchwork of armor panels that had been added since then. But the she had legs, and she was far less finicky than Solo’s ship. So the name fit: never take anything at face value.

"Its tempting, Captain, but I’m really NOT that kind of girl."

"Can’t blame a guy for trying." I flashed my most charming smuggler grin.

She said with a laugh, "So tell me... how many women have fallen victim to that smile?" I could tell it was a rhetorical question, so I just laughed too. I really doubt she wanted to know. We talked for another hour or so. I bragged, she laughed. She talked about her childhood, I listened. I bought drinks, she smiled. If I hadn’t been waiting on Drex, I’d have invited her back to the Skifter, or the Pure Sabacc rather.

That tingling feeling set in again. Uh, oh. I thought. I casually reached down to my blaster. "Captain Guinn, is it now?" I know that voice, I thought, and this wasn’t the situation for a blaster. The voice was the unmistakable sound of a woman scorned. This was going to be ugly.

"Uhhh.. Hi Ky...you’re... looking well," my best sabacc face had dissolved at the first sound of her voice. Did I mention I have really bad luck? So much for a low profile.

As predicted, it got ugly: Ky screaming, me trying to calm her down, Salle blushing at the scene unfolding in front of her. Then it got worse: Ky called Salle a tramp, took a swing at me, I ducked, she hit the plaster wall. I heard bones crunch, but I was already under the table trying to make my get away. Salle was returning insults at Ky, Ky kicked me in the ribs, I just wanted to get away. My fingers got stepped on,I stood up, a drink was thrown in my face.

I’m sure the whole thing looked quite comical, because at some point Drex walked in. He saw me, the two women, shook his head, and grinned. I knew exactly what he was thinking, and I could have hit him for it. You old smoothie.

I bolted for the back door, Drex was hot on my heels. Even on the street you could hear the altercation being carried on inside. When we got back to the ship, he was still laughing.

"Well, I’m glad you found that amusing," I could have hit him. "You seem too happy for someone who just lost his stake at the tables."

"I still can’t believe you left that poor girl back there to fend for herself." Did I feel bad about it? Yeah. But it bought me an escape. If I see her again, then I’ll apologize. But that wasn’t likely. "Besides, I didn’t lose. I cleaned up in fact." That’s a first.

"Good, dinner is on you then." I grinned and slapped him on the back, as we made our way up the ramp.

I didn’t find out anything useful about our guy while at the cantina. Drex and One-three had better luck. Between the two of them, I’d found out this guy was working for Lady Valarian at the heart of her spice shipping operations. What One-three added was that Keelo had been bought off by Jabba. He was now supplying Jabba with information regarding Val’s spice shipments, and various other nuggets of information about her operation. That night, I sliced into the holonet to see if i could verify our information. It was impossible to track the money shifted by a Hutt, but the credits shuffled into Keelo's account were way more than even Val paid. I snooped a little more, and called it a night. In the morning, I’d go see our broker.

Though it was still early in the morning, Tatooine was heating up fast. I had about an hour before I met with our broker, so I stopped to read the headlines on a nearby news-net terminal. The top story being about a massive bar fight between two women at a local cantina. Apparently Ky tore the place apart sometime after I’d left. Both Salle and Ky were still in custody.

I looked over at Drex, who was chuckling at the headline. "So what are you gonna do? The only decent thing to do would be to bail her out, seeing how you sorta caused her current incarceration."

"Hey!" I exclaimed, acting offended. "No one ever accused me of being decent!" I grinned. Of course he was right. She bought me a way out of a sticky situation. Though I doubted she’d be up for dinner after the event, it was the least I could do.

Our little crew made a show of splitting up, Drex headed towards the Despot, One-three was heading towards the starport. I knew differently, and they’d be right where I needed them. I headed into an ally way that snaked its course through Mos Eiseley’s interior. I came upon our guy right where he said he’d be. He was behind a make-shift warehouse used by one of the local lesser-gangs.

As I approached, I noticed someone else was too. Half hidden in the shadows, three of Lady V’s thugs were coming towards us, blasters ready. At that point I wasn’t sure which one of us they were after, but I knew I wasn’t sticking around to find out. I turned on my heel to find myself facing four more valarian thugs. The one I had pegged as the ring leader opened his mouth to say something, but never got the chance. A blaster bolt from behind him burned through his head and his friends turned to face where the shot had come from. While Drexel sprung his ambush, my own blaster was already in hand, and firing.

A lot of guys tend to stick towards the heavier blast-tech dl44 model blasters. Nice for show, and hard hitting enough to burn through most personal armor. If its modified can do even more damage. My own preference was a hand crafted, non-descript, custom holdout with an over charged power-handler. Small enough to tuck away discreetly, but powerful enough to make even the most zealous scum-bags think twice.

The Rodian was already on the ground, blaster burn on his chest told me he was done. I dropped the three coming from the far ally way, while Drex was toying with the surprise guests who’d been coming in from behind. In moments, it was over. Stillness once again reigned. Drex was already scrounging whatever he could scrounge.

I checked out our Rodian. Looking for anything regarding his contacts, information, or anything else that might be useful. I found a couple data-disks and roughly 600 credits tucked away inside his vest. I was sure hoping luck was turning in my favor.

I sent Drex and One-three on to the starport to get the Skifter fired up and ready to go. As I’d promised myself, Iwas off to bail... that girl... out. That girl? What was her name anyways? "Salle" I reminded myself. Drex insisted, "We should dust off, burn sky, and not stop until we are well away from here. You’re not likely to see this girl again anyways, my friend." I didn’t care, I’d rather insure that I would have one less crazed woman chasing me wanting revenge.

I dropped off a pile of credits to the holding officer to have Salle released. And a little extra to keep Ky tied up for a while. With business taken care of, I made my own way back to the ship.

I was in the process of pulling the fueling lines from the ship, and doing a last minute flight check, whenI heard footsteps approach.

"Is it too late to take you up on that offer?" a woman’s voice called out to me. I tensed. "After what I went through, I think you owe it to me." Salle stood at the entry way to the landing bay. She gave me a wry smile as our eyes met.