CHAPTER TWO
Jutrand was no different from most Outer Rim worlds with city sprawl; crime prone, unruly, and all-around a place one would not wish to visit. Yet none of this mattered to Loth Ja'far. For most of his life, Jutrand had been his home and he felt closer to it than his birth-world, Kothlis. He felt willing enough to do anything to benefit it and make it a better planet to live on.
Even if it meant spying on its governor.
Hidden within the system of ventilation shafts inside Governor Pol Zurn's residence, Loth pressed an ear against the grate which he lay over, listening in on the Advozse's conversation with an unseen individual.
"Please, Bodalla," Zurn was saying, clearly acting panicked. "I'll have the relic delivered to you. Just give me a few more days."
"You've had your days, Governor," snarled the voice of Advozse's contact, sounding as if it were coming from a hologram. "It should not be very difficult to transport an object that fits into the palm of your hand!"
"You must understand, sir," Zurn said. "It is quite hard to come across a trust-worthy pilot here on Jutrand-"
"Then find one somewhere else! Nar Shaddaa, Corellia, Taris... there's bound to be someone out there in the galaxy."
The governor gulped. "I... I will continue searching, sir. Just give me-"
"Tomorrow," Bodalla snapped. "You have until then."
With that, Loth heard the hologram fizzle out, followed by distressed moans from Governor Zurn. Knowing that he wouldn't gain any further data from a moping Advozse, the Bothan spy crawled back the same way he had entered and contacted his superior, Director Sladru Nalas of Galactic Alliance Intelligence.
"What is the status of your mission, Agent Ja'far?" the Director droned.
"I have succeeded in spying on Governor Zurn," Loth murmured. "The rumors were correct; he is indeed aligned with the Black Sun and is due to transport an object of sorts to them tomorrow."
"I see," Sladru Nalas said emotionless. "Do you know the identity of the ship that is to transport this unidentified object?"
"No," Loth said. "Even Governor Zurn doesn't; he has yet to hire a pilot."
The spy could have sworn he heard a hint of slyness in the Director's dry tone. "Then it is a good thing I tasked a pilot in accompanying you."
Loth raised an eyebrow to himself. "Accompanying...? Sir, I traveled to Jutrand alone."
"Within your own vessel, yes. However, I had someone piloting a StealthX fighter follow you to Jutrand, just in case you were in need of assistance."
The Bothan growled. "I never need assistance. Who is this pilot, anyway?"
"A veteran of the Galactic Civil War and thereafter. His name is Wes Janson."
* * *
"I really ought to have a badge that says 'I helped kick the butts of three Empires,'" Wes Janson mused. "But then I'd be forced to admit that I spent most of the third butt-kicking process in semi-retirement."
Sitting beside the veteran pilot inside a cantina, Loth Ja'far ran a hand through the fur on his head. Never in his career had he been forced to work alongside a human, or just about any non-Bothan. He could not abide the arrogance they so often displayed. And being as old as he was, Loth had hoped that Janson would show some wisdom or dignity.
Alas, that was not to be so.
Janson let out a comically loud sigh as he checked his wrist-watch. "Is this governor of yours gonna be here soon?"
"Quiet," Loth hissed. "He's just walked in."
The spy waved to Governor Zurn and the Advozse walked up to their table, flanked by two armored guards. As he sat down, Zurn focused his pupil-less black eyes on the duo.
"I have been told that you two were pilots for hire," he said.
Janson nodded. "And we've heard that you needed to make a delivery."
Zurn regarded them coldly. "I can only assume that my bumbling messenger told you. He never knows when to keep his mouth shut."
"Can we please skip the pleasantries?" Loth said impatiently. "What is it you need delivered?"
The governor frowned disapprovingly at the Bothan's impoliteness but said nothing of it. Instead, he reached into his coat and brought out a small, pyramidal object. Loth's eyes widened at the sight of it while Janson merely regarded it with mild curiosity.
"This is a Sith holocron," Zurn said in a hushed tone. "It is to be delivered to a human named Scur Bodalla on Eriadu. If the delivery is not done by tomorrow, there will be trouble... for both you and me."
"We could have it done in an hour, depending on varying planet rotations," Janson said with a grin. "What's your offering price?"
"Ten thousand credits." Zurn raised an index finger. "But only after the delivery is complete. If you fail to deliver it, or get yourselves killed, I don't want to have wasted any money. Do we have a deal?"
Janson nodded and shook hands with the Advozse. Taking the holocron, he turned to Loth and said, "Shall we get moving?"
The Bothan nodded slowly, glancing at the governor as he got up from his seat. He followed Janson out of the cantina and, once they were well on their way towards Loth's vessel, said, "We aren't really going to deliver this holocron, are we? I mean, it is a Sith one...."
"True," Janson replied. "But I kinda want to meet this Scur Bodalla. Maybe we can get some info from him and then give him a fake Sith holocron."
Loth raised an eyebrow. "And just where would we find a fake Sith holocron?"
The veteran pilot grinned. "We go to the people who know how to make one."
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