Chapter 61 (Patreon)

“I can’t say this is the worst situation we’ve ever found ourselves in…” Obi-Wan Kenobi scratched his cheek thoughtfully.

The Jedi sat in their cabin. It was meant for two, and quite spacious for a starship. It even had its own refresher. With a shower! Anakin still remembered certain… aspects of life on Tatooine, so the thought that he could simply go and wash under running water still warmed his heart. Right now, though, neither he nor his master could quite… hmm… find peace and balance.

“But it certainly ranks among the strangest,” Anakin agreed thoughtfully.

Anakin had seen a great deal of the galaxy, despite his fairly young age. He’d even had a couple of truly mad adventures. So flying aboard the Jabiim sorcerer’s cruiser (a rather comfortable one, he had to admit) with Karray, her armed-to-the-teeth “nannies,” and a band of Rodian hunters from Clan Maru… could hardly be called a crazy journey.

But… ahem… he could definitely put this mission in his top five for sheer absurdity. Or at least the beginning of this trip with the irrepressible little redheaded girl. Every time—literally every time—Anakin’s perfectly reasonable expectations gave way to something surreal. Maybe he was simply too young. To take all this in stride, did you have to be… Master Yoda? Or Yaddle? Or at least Oppo Rancisis! Anakin was sure the Thisspiasian would have thoroughly enjoyed the recent string of events.

Granted, “Uncle Villie” was a smuggler himself, as a couple of slips of the tongue had made clear. Obi-Wan had explained afterward: this was Vilmar Grark, a sentient widely known in certain very narrow circles, whose past was at least as murky as their target’s, if not more so. A criminal might well be careless with someone else’s child… Though the payment did, of course, depend on Karray staying alive, and Grark apparently made a tidy profit from his dealings with Siith’khara’Dziha. How would the sorcerer react if his daughter were put in danger?

As it turned out, the red-eyed savior of Master Yaddle and Anakin’s mother saw no problem at all with his heiress going after a criminal.

Honestly, what had Anakin expected? A flat no. A stern frown and a refusal sharp as a vibroknife. How else was a father supposed to react when his daughter wanted to go catch some smuggler?

By refusing. Unequivocally. Without budging.

But the man who answered the call was red-eyed and bearded. With HUGE bags under his eyes. At first, he didn’t even seem to realize it was his daughter calling. For a good ten seconds, Siith’khara’Dziha just blinked at the girl in confusion.

“Hi, Dad. You should get some sleep,” Karray said gently, looking at her father with concern.

“Mmm… sle-e-ep…” The sorcerer half closed his eyes in bliss, then shook his head a moment later, as though chasing the thought away. “But we don’t have time to sleep! Karray! Did something happen?”

“Where’s my ‘hello’? Where’s my ‘I missed you’?” the redhead demanded with a frown.

“Huh? Didn’t we say hello already?” The head of the JMG blinked at her in surprise. “Oof… Sorry, kiddo. I’ve been running myself ragged. Hi, sweetheart. And yes, I… missed you. Are you eating properly? Listening to Grandpa Ot? Not arguing with Arvik? How’s Pancake? Is he getting along with Quartermaster? Staying out of trouble yourself? When are you coming home?”

“Wait, Dad, slow down!” Karray raised her hands to stop him, casting a nervous glance at everyone listening. “Everything’s fine. Really, all of it. It’s just, see, there’s this jerk here, and he called me names…”

“Who thinks he’s immortal?” The sorcerer’s distracted gaze turned sharp and threatening in an instant. “Should I come over? Or can Grandpa Ot handle him?”

“Nah, what for?” Karray shook her head. “We’ll catch him ourselves.”

“We? Have you decided to pay Romri?”

“No, see, here’s what happened: Chickie called me names, and Ani, like, stood up for me, and then Chickie got back at him by blowing up the Jedi shuttle! So now we’re going to catch the jerk!”

“Uh-huh…” Siith’khara’Dziha’s fierce gaze went blank and unfocused. Briefly. A second later, the sorcerer frowned. “Right. Young lady, I think someone’s trying to pull the wool over my eyes. What did I tell you about lying to your Master?”

“That a liar faces severe punishment,” Karray said, dropping her gaze and covering her backside with both hands.

“So your memory’s working,” Siith’khara’Dziha said with a serious nod. “Now then. Eric Tichke, smuggler, thief, and con artist, sabotaged a Jedi shuttle a couple of days ago…” The sorcerer was clearly reading something offscreen. “Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin, right. Give them my regards. So you’ve decided to take a break from terrorizing the swamp wildlife and start terrorizing small-time crooks?”

“Aw, Dad, come on…” the girl grumbled, offended. “He’s not some small-time crook. He’s a scary terrorist. He blew up the shuttle, didn’t he? See? And he made Grandpa Ot look bad. We’ll be quick: fly out, fly back. A two-day adventure. Uncle Villie’s already sent me Chickie’s hideouts!”

“Oh! Uncle Villie too! That scheming rascal!”

“He’s not a rascal, he’s my agent!” Karray blurted out.

“Uh-huh. Your agent…” The sorcerer chewed on his lip. “Protective artifacts…?”

“The whole set, fully charged! Uncle Arvik checks them every morning.”

“Take his entire team with you. Arvik, are you there?”

“Here, Boss.” The Mandalorian stepped closer to Karray, bringing himself into view at the other end of the call.

“Excellent. The Jedi?”

“They’re here too.”

“Wonderful. Knight Kenobi?”

“Master Siith?”

“Oof…” The sorcerer rolled his eyes. “Hello, Obi-Wan. Have I got this right? You’re going with Karray?”

“Hello. We could manage on our own…” Obi-Wan had stepped closer, just as the Mandalorian had, and now cast a pointed glance at the red-eyed girl.

“Let me guess: you don’t have a ship, and no ship means no Tichke. But a certain red-eyed little hooligan does have a ship, and she made you an offer you couldn’t refuse?” Siith ventured with a crooked, rather unsettling smile.

“In short, yes,” Obi-Wan admitted.

“I see… Will you keep an eye on my daughter?”

“Dad, I can look after myse—”

“Shush! Don’t interrupt when grown-ups are talking. It’s rude!”

“Pfft!!!”

“And don’t snort at your father!”

“You didn’t need to ask.” Anakin’s master smiled gently and rested a hand on the sulking girl’s shoulder.

“Uncle Chon is coming with us too… probably,” Karray muttered.

“Chon Maru?” the sorcerer asked, perking up. “Good. He has a team of experienced bounty hunters. Second-best in the clan. Are you taking Pancake?”

“Of course,” the redhead replied grandly. “And Quartermaster too.”

“Well… off you go, then. But first, Karray, don’t forget to let our client know. And send me your route and the coordinates of Tichke’s hideouts.”

“What for?” The child narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“So I know where you’ll be disturbing the peace and quiet and causing mayhem. Oh, and Karray!”

“Yeah?”

“Pray to Hecate that Cordelia doesn’t hear about your adventures until they’re over.”

“Oh, come on. She’ll grumble a little, that’s all…” the redhead muttered, sounding far from convinced.

“Oh, she’ll grumble a little at you. She’ll wage a little war on me. I wouldn’t be surprised if she jumped straight from the beach onto the fastest ship in the escort and headed your way to ‘provide fire support.’”

“Um… uh… Dad, maybe don’t tell her anything yet, okay?”

“What am I, my own worst enemy?” Siith waved a hand. “Have fun, but don’t forget the safety rules. And Arvik.”

“Boss?”

“Tell Romri that, if necessary, she can activate anything she likes aboard the Rung. But only if there’s a REAL need. Firing upgraded guns at HARMLESS little Chickies is OVERKILL. But if one of them has a knife in its beak…”

“Understood, Boss.” The Mandalorian gave a curt nod. “I’ll see to it.”

“And while you’re at it, tell Romri that if she doesn’t screw up, everyone gets a bonus. Hmm… That should cover it. Bye, everyone. Back to work…”

“Hold on!” Karray shouted so suddenly that Anakin nearly jumped.

“What?” The sorcerer looked flustered.

“Aren’t you forgetting something, Dad?”

“Forgot what? What am I forgetting?” Siith’s red eyes darted from side to side.

“Dad… I love you very much,” the girl said with heartfelt sincerity.

“Mmm… I… cough, cough… ahem… you too.”

“You too what?”

“Oof… I love you too! A lot!!! Okay, bye-bye!” the head of the JMG rattled off, and the call ended.

Then there was Karray’s triumphant smile as she looked around at everyone in turn. Her smug red eyes practically said, You all saw that, right? Heard it too?

Anakin had seen and heard it. He was even… a little envious, though without a trace of ill will. Karray and her father had already done so much for the Padawan. So much that… he couldn’t even begin to measure his gratitude.

But he was surprised… yes, surprised at how readily the sorcerer had agreed to let his daughter go on this peculiar adventure. The only thing that seemed to upset him during the call was Karray’s attempt to lie. Everything else, to Siith’khara’Dziha, appeared to be… well, about as serious as going to see a new holofilm. Like, there’ll be adults with you? Got money for snacks? Dressed warm enough? All right, then, no problem. You’re not five anymore—you can go.

But Anakin’s string of shattered expectations didn’t end there. After speaking to her father, Karray called “Grandpa Ot.” The fact that he turned out to be a Rodian didn’t particularly surprise Anakin. A minister on Rodia and the head of Clan Maru—he was hardly going to be human, was he?

Still… a minister, a clan leader, the man who had hired the JMG for whatever work Karray was doing. Anakin expected him to react… well… like a boss? Like a normal adult? And what happened instead?

The Rodian in the hologram practically purred as he looked at the redhead. No, not literally… it was just… well, you could tell he was VERY fond of her. And yes, Anakin could understand Ot Maru. Karray really did have charisma, generously sprinkled with spontaneity and openness. She was a handful, full of mischief, but… not irritating, probably. At least not to him.

But surely that didn’t mean someone who was, for all intents and purposes, a stranger—not family, not even the same species—would be this indulgent and friendly! Even though, with Ot, Karray was singing the same tune with a different spin: that “Titchy” had made “Grandpa Ot” look bad in front of the Grand Protector, and it made her so mad. So, so mad…

And then she’d run into the Jedi whose shuttle that jerk had “blown up.” They felt terribly guilty that the crook had angered the Grand Protector and cast a shadow over Clan Maru with his dirty trick. So Karray had decided to catch “Titchy” aboard the Rung with the Jedi and “Uncle Chon.” They were at the spaceport right now, see, and if Grandpa Ot gave Uncle Chon permission, then… and afterward she’d come back and finish absolutely everything!

In short… the sly redheaded little schemer sang like a songbird, while the local minister, instead of glowering, practically melted into a puddle. Anakin was fairly good at reading Rodian expressions, and he would have staked anything on it: the elderly head of Clan Maru was very close to tearing up with affection.

And so… a squad of bounty hunters from Clan Maru was now aboard the Consular-class cruiser, led by Chon himself—Minister Ot’s third son.

“We’re missing something,” Obi-Wan’s calm voice broke into Anakin’s thoughts.

“Master?” Anakin looked up at the older Jedi and met his gentle, understanding gaze.

“Ot Maru. There’s something we don’t know that explains why the old hunter is so gentle with Master Siith’s daughter. Perhaps he’s simply fond of the Jabiim sorcerers’ ‘clan.’ Or perhaps the girl or her father did Rodia’s minister an important favor.”

“Her first bounty hunt…” Anakin chewed on his lip thoughtfully. “For Rodian hunters, that’s a milestone. On Tatooine, I heard stories about their ‘first time’ more than once. It wasn’t always some extraordinary adventure, but they all remembered it very… fondly. Even so, the minister reacted a little too strongly to what Karray wanted to do. As if his own granddaughter were heading out to claim her first bounty.”

“No use guessing, especially when we can simply ask.” His master smiled and looked toward the cabin door.

Anakin sensed someone on the other side too, and a short chime sounded. Obi-Wan waved a hand, using the Force to open the door, and Ot Maru’s son, Chon Maru, stepped into the cabin.

“Jedi.” The Rodian stopped and gave them a nod.

“Chon.” Obi-Wan rose from his comfortable chair and gestured for their guest to take it, then moved over to sit beside Anakin on the bunk. “What did Minister Maru say?”

The hunter took the offered seat with dignity. That was what Anakin sensed from him: dignity, unhurried gravity, calm. There was no fondness for the Jedi, but no dislike either. The Rodian’s attitude toward them was entirely neutral.

Hardly surprising, really. Chon Maru was one of those bounty hunters who worked aboveboard, so people like him seldom came into serious conflict with the Order. If there were… incidents, they were usually easy enough to resolve. Both the Department of Justice and the Jedi Temple had certain… not quite official rules for dealing with mercenaries of that sort.

Hunters like Chon Maru didn’t kill or abduct law-abiding citizens. They served as a sort of… alternative to the Judicial Corps. Tracking down a criminal who had fled to the far side of the known galaxy, capturing him, and delivering him to the world that wanted him was one of their specialties. The Republic’s law enforcement system wasn’t always… quick to respond to crimes committed on its countless worlds. So a murderer from, say, Pzob could live quite comfortably on Corellia, barely bothering to hide.

The heavy, lumbering machinery of Republic justice took a long time to get moving. Besides, every world had its own laws. On some planets, ordinary table salt was an illegal drug; on others, it was simply something you added to food. Trading salt on the former was a grave crime, while law officers from other worlds might laugh at the supposed “offense,” sometimes without even bothering to read the documents their counterparts had sent them. Then there was Hutt Space, where the Judicials didn’t operate at all, though criminals from Republic space—thieves, robbers, murderers—could live there. Sometimes bounty hunters even took on work that didn’t quite fit their name: finding, rescuing, and bringing home friends or relatives who had been kidnapped and enslaved.

And so, over time, the profession had come to be in demand even among planetary governments, despite being… hmm… not entirely legal. Today you’re grinding your teeth because some thugs snatched a “tourist” from your territory; tomorrow you need to bring just such a “traveler” home yourself so you can put him in prison. The Toydarians often hired bounty hunters. Some potbellied little aristocrat with wings embezzles government funds and runs off with the money… and a month or two later, he’s quietly bundled up in some far-flung corner of the galaxy and brought before His Majesty the King of Toydaria. In fact, a couple of years earlier, Anakin and his master had found themselves… unwilling participants in just such an affair.

A pair of Mandos from Clan Vast had been hunting the embezzling scoundrel to bring him back to his homeworld. When he ran into the Jedi along the way, he decided they would make good cover and put on a remarkably convincing act as the victim. Anakin didn’t remember the episode fondly. The Toydarian had fooled the Padawan so thoroughly that the boy had been ready to fight the mercenaries for real, while the Mandalorian woman’s mockery had landed a painful blow to the young Jedi’s pride. Fortunately, his master hadn’t lost his head as Anakin had, and they’d managed to speak with the Mandalorians before things got… lively. Then they’d looked over the “bounty notice,” with its long list of crimes. In the young Jedi’s opinion, “embezzlement” was far from the worst entry.

“My father agrees to your proposal. Once we catch Eric Tichke, we’ll bring him to Rodia together. You can question him on the way and learn what you need to know. If you still need him afterward, Clan Maru and Clan Oortu will hand him over to you after a brief clan trial, as compensation for the damage to your shuttle.”

“Splendid,” Obi-Wan Kenobi said with a satisfied sigh.

“And everyone’s happy except Tichke,” Anakin said with a grin.

Of course, the Jedi would have preferred to take sole custody of the bad guy right away. But with things turning out this way, waiting a little was their best move. They would get their target and might even improve relations with one of Rodia’s major clans. Tichke really had made the warriors of both clans look bad: they had been responsible for keeping order at the spaceport on the day of the sabotage. Worse, Inta’si’rin’n—the highest authority on the swampy planet—had witnessed his subordinates’ failure. Catching the criminal and bringing him back to Rodia was now a matter of preserving their honor. Clans Maru and Oortu needed to show that the man who had overstepped had ended up in their hands. The “punishment” they had just agreed on was largely a formality. The Rodians didn’t much care whether Tichke went to prison or was executed. What mattered was that he ended up in their hands and “got what he deserved.”

“If we catch him.”

“When we catch him,” the Rodian calmly corrected Obi-Wan. “The Rung is an excellent ship, and Karray is very determined. I have no doubt she’ll pursue her first quarry to the end.”

“Tichke might not be at any of the hideouts Grark sent us coordinates for,” Obi-Wan pointed out carefully.

“That’s part of the job.” Chon Maru shrugged. “My team—and you too, Knight Kenobi—have experience tracking down a single sentient across a vast galaxy. And doing it quickly. Any difficulties… might even be a good thing. Karray will have more vivid memories of her first hunt. If necessary, I’ll call on my own resources.”

“May I ask you something, Hunter Chon?” Anakin couldn’t hold back any longer. “I get the impression Clan Maru has a… special fondness for Karray. Please don’t take this the wrong way. I’m just… curious why. You must have fast ships of your own. You could have gone after Tichke yourselves.”

“It’s no secret.” The Rodian hunter shrugged again. “For one thing, darla’Dziha volunteered to help my world. For money, of course—we pay the JMG. Even so, if she hadn’t wanted to do it, I doubt we could have come to an agreement with her father so quickly. Naturally, we understand that achieving food self-sufficiency will take a great deal of work, even if the crops Karray is modifying are ready tomorrow. Years of work. But Rodia isn’t just a world of skilled hunters and strong warriors. We know how to work, and we aren’t afraid of challenges. We can do it, if we’re given the chance. Karray gave us that chance, and the true children of Rodia value it deeply. My father is one of them. So is Inta’si’rin’n. And so am I.”

The bounty hunter fell silent for a moment, clasping his hands thoughtfully over his stomach. Then he continued, speaking slowly and with complete sincerity.

“Even setting aside our people’s gratitude for these new prospects, there are clan interests to consider. It was Clan Maru that the Dziha family agreed to help. If the effort succeeds, our clan will earn fame and honor. We’re grateful for that too. And even on a personal level… My father, whom this human child calls ‘cool Grandpa Ot’”—for the first time, the Rodian showed a flash of emotion, giving an amused snort—“used to have a prosthetic arm and leg. Do you know how much it cost for young Karray to restore his limbs? The price of twenty or so kilograms of meat and bones from the nearest store. We hadn’t asked. There were no negotiations. She offered to heal our clan leader herself. Clan Maru—and I personally, Chon Maru, son of Ot Maru—cannot help but be grateful to this girl. So her first hunt matters to us too. Accompanying the Dziha heiress and watching her back is a duty we owe her as friends, a matter of honor. Even the target she chose… No, we understand that meeting you was what got the child fired up. But one way or another, she chose to hunt a sentient with whom the Maru have a personal score to settle.”

“…” Anakin silently closed his eyes and bowed his head in thanks for the Rodian’s thorough answer.

“If the Jedi have no further questions…”

“No. Thank you very much, Hunter Chon.” Obi-Wan and his apprentice rose as their guest left the cabin. “So that’s the secret, Anakin.” His master turned to the Padawan with a smile.

“Gratitude,” Skywalker agreed with a nod.

“I suppose I should send an interim report to the Temple now.” A microscopic hint of reluctance entered the Jedi Knight’s voice, but he picked up his datapad and set to work composing a message to the Order. Anakin gave his master a mildly sympathetic look. Whether you were a Padawan, a Knight, a Master… perhaps even a Grand Master, nobody liked bureaucracy.