Candoria was a very ordinary planet. As much as a planet with a population of twenty billion people can be called ordinary. Ninety percent of the sentients on the planet were specifically humans; the rest of the population varied: Twi'leks, Zabraks, Arkanians, and other many races whose appearance is quite unpleasant and illogical.
This, by the way, always amused me in the Far, Far Away. What the hell are creatures like the Aqualish needed for? Humanoid-like with a spider head and a scrotum on half their face. How did they survive? How did they appear? You'll never find out. Yet they are aggressive, strong, proud... Besides, a war between the colonies and the capital is still going on in Ando, which we didn't get involved in, and from there the most vicious, cunning, and unprincipled bastards, for whom stabbing a neighbor is a holy deed, have poured out in all directions of the galaxy.
But back to Candoria, which we were landing on at the moment. An Earth-type planet, with oceans, cold poles, several deserts, and mountains. Many cities, forests, and steppes. Its own good resource base, a decent defense fleet, and Planetary Defense forces. Developed crime extending beyond the planet...
In short, a working classic. In some ways, this world reminded me of Mande, only not as clean and well-kept. Still, the Baobab fleet takes care of its investments much more actively than the local government.
"Though I'm a hundred percent sure their senator is living high on the hog."
Tsking, I ignore Fay's attention and guide the ship along the specified route. The dispatcher tried to squeeze more money out of us, but as soon as the girl mentioned who was on board, they immediately gave us a free landing corridor intended for emergencies...
"I don't like it here," having shut down the engines and given all the necessary commands, I left the ship together with the Jedi, leaving our companions on Freedom Rider, "the whole planet is somehow..."
"Dark," the girl gave a hint, standing slightly on her tiptoes to look me exactly in the eyes. Looking in my direction with interest, the Jedi scanned me from head to toe. Her ears twitched a couple of times and noticing me watching this, Fay turned slightly pink in the cheeks, "ahem-ahem. The dark side of the force has surrounded the planet. Something terrible is approaching... Or it is already here."
Closing her eyes, Fay drew air through her nose and repeated this several times. Her brown robes shifted slightly and slipped off her shoulder, and her hair was disheveled from the Jedi's activity during the descent down the ramp.
Fay jerked slightly, and her cheeks flushed again, only this time she composed herself much faster and soon opened her eyelids.
"I sense emanations of the Dark Side beneath the city." Clearing her throat with a cough, she grabbed her neck. It all looked as if the girl had suddenly drunk some nasty swill. "Like an octopus, it is spreading its tentacles through the city, grasping more and more..."
"M-m-a-a... This is all very interesting, of course. But what next?" Looking around, I wave my hand to the Jedi, calling her after me. Passing through a busy stream of people, we approached the nearest cantina, inside which it smelled more of machine oil than booze. "There are only six of us, and the capital alone holds almost fifty million people..."
Sitting down at a table, I quickly place an order, almost without looking, as if I come here every day. Thrusting my legs into the aisle for comfort, I straighten them and lean back against the sofa with pleasure.
"The freight traffic here is incredibly large. Speeders, trains, ships, local surface boats." Quickly listing, I fall silent when the waiter droid brings us a pair of green fruit cocktails. Throwing away the straw, I put my lips to the glass, simultaneously closing my eyes and scanning the cantina. "Phew, not bad, not bad. I'd even say—tasty. So, what was I... We have no chance of finding this 'octopus,' let's call it that for now."
Smiling softly, Fay wrapped her full lips around the straw and took the first sip. Shrinking for a moment, she moved her shoulders, wincing at the abundance of ice and cold on her teeth.
"The Force will guide us."
That was the entire laconic answer. No more, no less. Just The Force. Well, just fucking great now.
"I see you doubt." Was that a statement or a question, woman?! "Do not worry, the Great One will help us overcome the difficulties on our path."
This was said in such a confident, I would even say durasteel voice, that any doubts vanished.
The Force will guide us.
"We're screwed," saluting the frowning girl with my glass, I drain the rest in one gulp, "but if you don't mind, I'll try some other methods, okay?"
"What?"
Abruptly standing up, I walk away from the table and with a confident stride head toward a pair of down-and-outs sitting in the farthest corner, who hadn't taken their eyes off us since we entered the cantina. At my approach, they began to worry and look more and more toward the exit, but as soon as I threw my cloak aside and showed my blaster, both went cross-eyed and collapsed back into their seats.
"Gentlemen, may I?"
"O-o-of course," waving a hand toward the opposite chair, one of the local "Fare il palo," or if speaking Galactic Basic, "pole worker," tensed his whole body, "we told them about your ship. Recognized the crest on the side, so..."
Aha, so the local bosses have already been told about us. What a job people have. Sit and drink all day, just say in time who the planet brought in. Smirking, which made the pair turn so white it was as if they were already headed for the next world, I move closer.
"I'd like to talk to someone from your lot. Those higher up..."
"Um... Well, I think we can try?" Uncertainly addressing his accomplice, one of them looked at his comrade. "Nothing will happen, right?"
"We'll report, and let them decide for themselves..." Barely hitting their teeth against each other, the second criminal could have wet himself at any second. It was even a bit surprising and offensive, somehow.
"What exactly are they telling them about us if he's so afraid of me?"
"Get in touch, I'll wait over there." Poking my thumb behind my back, I point to our table, from where Fay gave us a friendly smile, which agitated the pair of cowards even more. In her signature Jedi clothing, the girl stood out strongly against the others, and especially considering her appearance...
"An interesting method of negotiation." A bit of condemnation in the voice of the thousand-year-old high-level diplomat, which I ignored. "You need to use kind methods more often, and then such fame will pass you by..."
What is she doing? Does she really think I'm upset about the rumors circulating about the Helldivers in the Outer Rim? What a monastic little fool. We worked on that specifically so that the small fry would start shitting themselves at the mere mention of our name, while the big shots would just wave it off and grimace.
"Let's talk about this some other time, okay?" Deciding to get a refill and order a snack at the same time, I beckon a droid with a snap of my fingers. "Come on, bolt-bucket, make me happy..."
***
After an hour of waiting, a dozen thugs of varying levels of expertise filed into the modest portside cantina. While I wasn't at all surprised by a couple of aliens with clubs and a bunch of lowlifes with blasters, the appearance of a classic Mandalorian among them was extremely interesting.
As soon as my gaze met the slit of his helmet, the Mando froze in his tracks, halting the entire support team guarding one of the local authorities... or whatever these criminals call their bosses.
"I didn't sign up for this." Pointing a finger toward my neck, where the Helldivers emblem was located, the Mando performed some manipulations on his PDA and then left with his head held high, leaving his boss to blink stupidly.
For almost a minute, we all sat in silence while the stunned man recovered, and only after that did he dashingly twirl his mustache and turn to us with a tense expression.
"Things didn't exactly go as planned," the thin, tall man smiled forcedly, sitting down as a third at our table while his people dispersed throughout the cantina, taking convenient positions... convenient for opening fire on us immediately. "Then again, who would have known that Commander Sam Altman himself would visit our backwater..."
Glancing toward me suggestively, the man wiped a bead of sweat from his temple and sniffled. His lips were parched, and his breathing was heavy and frequent, clearly afraid of provoking me. Or rather, not specifically me, but the entire Helldivers PMC, who would hunt him down if he or his people shot me during a fight.
"We have important business here. Are you the one in charge of this district?"
"You could say that," licking his lips, the mustachioed man swallowed thick saliva, then glanced out of the corner of his eye at the kind face of Fay, who was watching our boyish games with maternal care. "I'm responsible for the port and a couple of blocks from here..."
"Not enough. We need someone bigger." My hand dug into the back of my neck, and I began to scratch my head fiercely. "A rather large disaster is looming over your planet, so..."
"The Boss won't come here himself. Not even his deputy or right hand. No one in their right mind will come out to meet you." Looking at us with a frightened gaze, the man apparently realized his own action was idiotic and that he shouldn't have appeared before us. "A Commander of the Helldivers and a Jedi... Ha, it would be easier to shit on the face of the head of the local Judicial Forces garrison; there would be fewer problems."
"Don't exaggerate," interrupting him with a wave of my hand, I lean closer so that only the three of us are involved in the conversation. "There is a danger of a biological threat on Candoria..."
"Huh?" Judging by the flicker of intellect in his eyes—or rather, the complete lack thereof—the mustachioed man didn't even know such words.
"I see." Turning to the girl, I shake my head for her to join the conversation. "Maybe you'll participate too?"
"Of course, Sam." Fay's small palm rested on the local leader's wrist. Looking into his eyes, the girl began to speak in a warm and soulful voice that penetrated to the very soul. If the thug was scared shitless of me, he literally melted from communicating with Fay and slowly turned into an amoeba. "Please, we need help. All of Candoria needs it. If you lead us to your leader, with his help we can eliminate this trouble in the bud."
"Eliminate... well, I don't know..."
"Damn, he's hesitating like a schoolboy in front of a young, sexy teacher, look at him go."
The conversation lasted a few minutes, and during that time, I saw a grown man—certainly a killer and a real piece of work—turn into a Disney princess. If they both stand up and start singing right now, I swear to God, I'll burn this planet to the ground.
But fortunately, the end of these strange negotiations was much more mundane than I feared.
"I swear, we will not harm your leader; we will only ask him to share information and provide assistance if it is within his power."
"Well, I mean... then it's possible. Yes, I think it's possible." Nodding like a bobblehead, the mustachioed port dealer jumped up briskly, startling his entourage, who immediately grabbed their gun barrels, knife hilts, and clubs. "Quiet! You useless freeloaders. We're leaving!"
****
What do you expect from a bandit hideout? A secret base in a hangar or underground? A huge mansion with a bunch of clearly stolen valuables? Maybe a massive ship that is constantly on the move? Or at the very least, their own little bar, or as the locals say, a cantina? Where everyone will be having fun and drinking, and when we walk in, they'll fall silent and follow our backs with grim stares?
No.
We were led to an ordinary apartment on the twenty-fifth floor. A high-rise building, like many on Candoria. A classic Togruta concierge, a bit plump, but still looking alright.
A long corridor with a bunch of identical doors and endless numbers, and at the very end, an apartment near the fire escape with an exit to the nearest Speeder park.
Conveniently settled, what else can I say.
Though, I'm more than sure the apartment is rented or a backup for such an occasion, and they wouldn't mind burning it.
We entered along with our mustachioed friend, whose name I didn't even try to remember, and as it turned out, for good reason. As soon as we stepped into the apartment, he was hauled off by his arms into an adjacent room, where my motion sensor showed at least ten active points, though there might have been more.
Fay only smiled with the corners of her lips at all this posturing. Constantly adjusting a stray lock of hair, though now it seems to me that it's part of her image—to have an excuse to run her fingertips through her hair, drawing male gazes and creating the image of a timid and pure girl. A sort of non-verbal sign of sympathy, putting the interlocutor at ease.
Going inside, we found a stocky, slightly cross-eyed man in his forties. Powerful working hands, a shaved head, and a magnificent beard, which is rarely seen in the galaxy these days, as the fashion for the last decade has leaned more toward clean-shaven chins.
"Have a seat," and the voice of our future interlocutor was even more impressive than I had imagined. I expected something raspy, harsh, and grim, but I got a soothing baritone, perfect for singing sappy songs. "Call me Mark; I won't venture to tell you any other name, alas."
"Sam."
"Fay."
While I spoke my name with a face full of exhaustion from all this staged pathos, Fay even gave a cute little wave, instantly shedding about ten years of age visually. I actually rubbed my eyes. Mimicry, gestures, smile, even the gaze. Fay's entire image changed, and I only just noticed it. Now you wouldn't call her a luxurious MILF from the galaxy's backwaters who had slightly forgotten how to talk to people. Now she was a slightly naive girl who had just entered adulthood.
"Fucking sorcerers."
I even felt like sitting further away and was about to pull my chair back, but then fear and anxiety washed over me, goosebumps running down my spine. Glancing toward Fay, I saw the same sweet smile and palms modestly folded on her knees, except...
It felt as if the image of a demon was gathering behind her back, sticking out its tongue and running a knife across its throat—threatening me.
"I know who you are, just as most of the underground inhabitants of this planet are already aware of your arrival." Chuckling into his beard, the man didn't take his warm, fatherly gaze off Fay... Oh shit, it was actually working! "So let's settle all business quickly and part ways like ships in the night, alright?"
"Of course," Fay even nodded her head like a first-grader. And the man just melted. He sat there adoring her, trying with all his might to hide his attitude, but even for a layman like me, it was obvious that if Fay asked him for something, he would definitely do it. He'd break his back, but he'd get it done. "We need your help..."
Oh, those words were comparable to the effect of a bursting bomb. The tough bandit froze, then broke into a moronic smile.
"Does he have a daughter the same age? And how did this Jedi Sherlock in a skirt find out about it? How?!"
What followed was a rather leisurely but thorough interrogation under pressure, during which the sweet elven girl found out about everyone who had flown in recently and acted suspiciously, strangely, aggressively, or just too quietly.
The list of candidates wasn't very large, as everything on the planet had been divided up long ago and visiting dealers are quickly cut down... usually by the head. But here, a rather interesting description caught my attention.
"...A strange man. Tall, in a hat and goggles, like they show in desert movies. He was all wrapped in a cloak so you couldn't even see his legs, but he mo-o-oved," dragging out the last letter, Mark clearly wanted to swear, but glancing at Fay's serious face, he froze, coughing embarrassedly into his fist, "impressively, yeah. I haven't seen such grace even in the ballet."
"Was he alone?" Turning his gaze to me, the man seemed to have just remembered I was still there. "Did someone else arrive with him?"
"Huh? Yes, yes... there were three with him," biting a knuckle on his fist, Mark strained to remember their images, "two looked like bugs, but huge ones... I've never even seen anything like them. But the third was different. All encased in armor, from head to toe. A black void where the eyes should be, with only two yellow lights shining. A halberd in his hands."
"Not a very precise description."
"Oh, damn... I mean, exactly!" Stumbling at first, Mark slapped his forehead, trying to ignore Fay's pouting lips, as she had also noticed the swearing at the beginning. "He was tall, about four meters in height. You definitely won't mistake someone like that for anyone else."
***
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