Ecstasy of Credits 10.048

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Aurelias Kazaar was staring at the speeder wreckage. His head still hurt a bit from where a shard from his house went through his left cheek, but over all he felt okay physically. Mentally, something was gnawing at him. Like a craving that wouldn't go away. It made no sense how a small-time pirate gang who'd tended to rob locals from Taanab of food and a few credits were able to afford a Nemesis-class gunship.. Especially if they had patched up clothes and used a piece of shit speeder which exploded after taking moderate damage from a rail detonator and a light turret. It hung inside his brain and refused to stop.

He knelt down next to the body of one of the pirates. The human had little which would identify him or tell him where he was from. Kazaar pulled 20 credits from the pirate's jacket and pocketed it. He wouldn't keep the dead man's blaster, it was too cheap to be any use. Another odd thing which increased the gnawing. The next pirate told him nothing, except for yielding 35 credits and another cheap blaster. He found another 50 credits going through the pockets of the rest. Booze money for later.

Kazaar finally got to the leader. His frayed Imperial jacket had been burned and a piece of shrapnel had gone right through his chest. Something Kazaar noticed was a red circle-like tattoo on the leader's chest. That stuck with him too, but he wasn't sure why. The ex-bounty hunter poked through the guy's pockets, pulling out 200 credits, an S-5 heavy blaster and finally found a small datapad and a holocom.

He looked at the datapad first. It wasn't password protected and Kazaar was able to sift through its contents. Nothing too interesting, except for a guide on how to use the gunship and a map of the farms and ranches on the planet. His wasn't on it, nor was his now-dead neighbor's. Probably meant the two guys he'd blasted down the day before were surveying. Possibly seeing who was going to pay up and who wasn't. They never got the chance to enter in the data because he and Lilaena De'Ville had killed them all. She was hopefully still sleeping in his bunker with the blanket he'd put on her body before going outside.

The holocom was password protected, which meant 'Trey,' his R7 droid, would have to unlock it. Hopefully it would have the secrets he needed.

The sun was just coming up as Kazaar turned back towards the road to his ruined home. It was time to find where his weapons and hat were buried in the rubble. Then he'd see who sold these assholes their high-powered death machine. And kill every last one of the bastards.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena reached the top of the stairs and pushed open the door, sunlight flooding down into the shelter as she stepped out. She shaded her eyes with her hand, and saw Kazaar walking back up the road toward her. She didn't wave.

What was her next move? Was her debt to Kazaar paid? She'd killed five persons for him, in exchange for him saving her life. Was a debt like that ever really paid in full? On the other hand, did she really care what he, or anyone else for that matter, thought?

She took a few steps, walking away from the walls of the house that were still standing and might not be for long, and found a place to sit in the sun. She closed her eyes and simply soaked in the rays, emptying her mind. Meditating.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Mornin'," Kazaar stuck a cigar in between his teeth and lit it with two matches he'd clenched together. Smoke billowed from his mouth as he made sure the cigar's end was lit. He blew out the matches, made sure they weren't going to spark again and tossed them in the dirt.

Kazaar started going through the rubble of his home, tossing various pieces of lumber out of the way with his gloved hands. The first bit of good news he found was his Imperial repeater rifle. It had survived without too much damage, just a few nicks on the casing. He found his T-28 sniper rifle in horrible condition. It had landed barrel first on the ground. He'd have to completely replace it, except maybe the stock. Kazaar swore under his breath as he set it down next to De'Ville.

"Damn fine blaster, one o'the few those frackers in th'Imp army actually put out." He blew smoke up in the air. "Ain't easy t'find either. Most stormies're just blaster fodder fer rest o'us. May hafta find o'supply station somewhere t'get o'new one."

He tossed the S-5 blaster towards De'Ville. "Ya do o'helluva job with ya saber. Fight like it's o'frackin' extension of ya arm. Still need o'real blaster." He then held up the holocom. "Ever use one o'these?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The blaster halted in mid air in front of her, and slowly rotated. Lilaena breathed out slowly, and opened her eyes and looked at Kazaar. "I am proficient with many blasters, including the S-5." It spun around and she put out her hand, plucking it out of the air.

"What are your plans, Kazaar?" She gestured at the ruins of the house just behind them.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Good question," Kazaar put the holocom back a vest pocket. He knocked up more wooden planks. Still hadn't found his rail detonator.

"Figure..." He grunted as he lifted up a large piece of wood which had been a roof support, "...gonna look f'my last weapon, figure out who was bankin' those frackers an' kill 'em." He found the remains of the True Mandalorians banner, then his view screen. His boots briefly crunched glass and he stared down. It was the remains of a small holo-art frame. He tore the bottom of the wood and found the capsule which held the image of his dead son Bren. It looked undamaged. Kazaar gave a small smirk. Small miracles do exist.

"Those hoods were too small time t'own that ship ya took down. Ever run in t'any assholes out there with o'red circle're planet tattoo on 'em? Like o'badge of honor or some kinda branding?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She shook her head in the negative. "Doesn't ring any bells." Lilaena watched him stump around in what had been his living room, and sighed. "You are planning on taking on a criminal organization equipped enough to purchase a Nemesis gunship by yourself, aren't you."

He didn't respond, but his emotions were spilling off of him like thunderclouds forming over a plain. Oh, he was going all right.

"Hey, it's your lucky day," she quipped. "I don't have anything better to do, so I'll go with you. Make sure you don't kill yourself."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar didn't turn, but knocked over another few splintered logs. He thought a moment, then tossed more pieces of wood out of the way. There it was, his rail detonator. He picked it up, felt the weight in his hands. He stared down the barrel, unloaded the weapon, and made sure there were no obstructions. He put one rail in, checked it again, aimed at his fence, and fired. It still worked. He slung it over his shoulder, next to his repeater rifle.

"They destroyed my house." His guttural voice was defiant. "Think I ain't gonna repay those frackers double? Destroyin' that frackin' gunship ain't gonna do a damn thing. Gonna hafta teach 'em in full."

He tossed over one log and found his hat. Finally. Kazaar grabbed it and put it on. "Let's go. Gotta few things t'grab downstairs."

It took Kazaar and De'Ville about ten minutes to haul the weapons out of the bunker. They didn't take much: a concussion rifle, a Scalphunter rifle, an HH-4 grenade launcher and an almost ancient looking blaster rifle. Kazaar and De'Ville also took the two sets of Mandalorian armor.

They entered his freighter where 'Trey' was already waiting. He whistled a greeting to both of them, while Kazaar stalked to the computer next to the communications console. He wasn't the biggest technology fan, but knew how to use it. Kazaar placed the holocom on top of the computer and turned it on. Several glyphs popped up asking for a password. "'Trey'...can ya hack this?" He turned, but the R7 droid had already exited the room, headed for the cockpit. "Force-dammit," Kazaar swore under his breath and stood up. "'Trey'...'Trey'...Get ya scrawny wheels back 'ere! Gotta job for ya!"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She set the armor down as the droid trundled back into the room, tweeting and beeping what was probably supreme annoyance at being ordered around. Astromechs who weren't wiped regularly gained persnickety personalities, and it seemed Trey was no different.

Aurelias pointed the droid toward the comm, and it set to work slicing the password. De'Ville ran her hand over the T-visored helmet, and found a place to sit while Trey hummed a tuneless song to itself as it worked out the holocomm.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Yeh, yeh." Kazaar snorted at 'Trey' and grabbed a bottle of bourbon. He poured himself a rather generous glass, then offered the bottle to De'Ville. She declined. "Look, ya get t'take ya oil bath aftah we get this frackin' comm hacked. How long it gonna take." 'Trey' *blatted* a retort. "Awright, awright, don't let ya power cells all buggered up. Jus' a frackin' question."

He smirked at De'Ville as if to say, "Droids," then lit a cigar. 'Trey' was a bit temperamental for an R7, but Kazaar worked with him/it well. The little guy had survived two droid brain transplants and kept its wits. Showed how tough it was. Kazaar was pretty sure parts of 'Trey's' old brains were fighting with the new one but he could never prove it. Nor did he want to.

It didn't take 'Trey' too long to get the comm unlocked, but Kazaar was sure the droid swore at him in a *bleet* and a raised arm before headed off for the oil bath. 'Trey' would get over it. Despite its occasional volatility, 'Trey' did a hell of a job. There were worst things to deal with.

The holocomm had four messages on it, all from the same ID. Kazaar picked the earliest one and hit play. The holographic face of a Cathar suddenly appeared. Its normally shaggy hair was cropped flat with a ponytail coming out of the back of the head. There were multiple rings in each cat-like ear. He had a shaggy mustache and two silver labret piercings which dangled. Kazaar recognized him almost instantly.

"Yee-Lee Barsoom." The red tattoo he'd seen earlier now made sense. "Ever hear o'him?" De'Ville shook her head. "Used t'work with Kimiiki Crei before that Albino bastard bit it couple years back. Guess he's takin' a cue from 'is old boss an' going afta folks who can't defend themselves. 'Fore I got th'frack outta galactic affairs, heard he'd started the Red Circle. Pirate gang on th'Outer Rim. Guess no one gave o'shit he was goin' after merchants an' medical frigates. Too busy with their Force-damned 'civil war.'"

He took a sip from his bourbon. "Not sure where th'frack he's holed up...know who might." Kazaar pressed a few buttons on his communications console and waited for a few. "C'mon answer th'damn call ya prissy, over-hyped up gizka."

"H...hello?" The voice on the other end sounded nervously tired.

"Spenny. Wake th'frack up." Kazaar smirked and puffed on his cigar.

"Aur-Aurelias?" It sounded like the voice had just gotten an injection of caffeine. "Is-is that you? Y-you're alive?!?"

"Who th'frack do ya think is callin' ya, Spenny. Th'frackin' Jedi Council...need ya f'something."

"Well...umm..." Mirko Spendrim still sounded confused, "I don't know where you've living. I can't send you a sweat-"

"'Nough with th'fracking sweaters Spenny! Need ya t'find someone!"

"Who? I don't know where Adelai-"

"Not her." Kazaar cut him off. "Yee-Lee Barsoom."

Spendrim yawned. "The Red Circle leader? Umm...A-a few weeks ago he was in the Norulac system. H-he's got a Carrack cruiser with him, Kazaar. Be careful, he's a..."

"Pay ya later Spenny." Kazaar ended the connection before Spendrim could finish. "Awright, we're off t'Norulac." He started for cockpit, stopped, then headed in the opposite direction. "Be right back." Kazaar mumbled and disappeared outside.

He came back a minute later with a blue fabric clutched between his hands. Without saying a word, Kazaar hung the tattered True Mandalorians banner on a bare space on the wall. "Let's go." He strode towards the cockpit. Minutes later, his ship was in the air headed to Norulac.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Norulac. De'Ville pulled up the holonet to see what she could find on the planet - generally it seemed like an underdeveloped system, with just the one habitable planet. There was no planetary government, and the conflict between continents made it a prime location for pirates to find shelter. It was apparently an historical jumping off point for raids on Taanab - she turned off the console and leaned back in her seat. The upholstery was new enough, but randomly speckled with holes from where ash had fallen from the cigars Kazaar was so fond of. She stared at the banner and scratched at her forearm absently.

There was very little about Kazaar that was familiar to her as a Mando'ade. He was... difficult to figure out. She would have pegged him as loyal, but he'd left the Rebellion behind and had no connections to Mandalore that she knew of, so then what held his allegiance? His old fashioned ideas about females was another that did not mesh with what she knew of Mando'ade. Females were as equal as males and equally expected to protect themselves. Her fingernails raked over the itchy spot on her skin as the ship flew through hyperspace, and then she cursed. Idiot!

Lilaena dug into a drawer in the galley and pulled out a knife, pressing the thankfully sharp tip into the skin of her forearm and creating an inch long opening. Blood oozed as she pressed on either side of it, a small capsule popping up. She gritted her teeth and pulled it out of her arm, dropping the knife into the sanitizer and pressing a cloth to the new wound. The capsule, a small multi-tasking locator chip that she used to sync with her armor (and call her Basilisk droid to her side), was dropped to the deck and smashed under her boot. If Callidus somehow knew about it and used it to track her -

- but no, that was paranoia. He was not aware of the inner workings of the Mandalorians, nor had he shown more than a passing interest in how their technology worked. Still. She picked up the pieces and threw them in the compactor before returning to her seat.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar was smoking and drinking in the cockpit. It was quiet and allowed him to think. He was about to get back into the galaxy, probably, not like he had been. This wouldn't be doing a nerf run to Hapes to sell a calf. It would be repaying a son of a bitch what he deserved in buckets of blood and blaster bolts. This would be war. The kind of war Kazaar was used to. It would be glorious. It would cause his blood to boil and his body to relax.

The question was for what? His decision to leave the Rebellion had been coming. Too many lies. Too much bullshit. He swallowed the bourbon and grabbed the bottle. Another drink. Half the politicians didn't give a damn about actually saving the galaxy and the rest were too much like the Empire. They just wanted to be the ones in charge. Not letting folks actually be free. The 'freedom' they were offering still came at the barrel of a blaster. Just depended on what it was about. Kazaar snorted. It was bullshit. Total bullshit.

He swallowed again. Maybe there were those out there who cared. The Kid sure did. That was why she had disappeared on assignment. She was probably out trying to burn what Imperials she could find. In her own way. Maybe she'd contact him. Maybe she wouldn't. Kazaar figured it could go either way. He licked his lips. Definitely either way.

Kazaar couldn't figure out De'Ville's role in all this. She was as muddy as he was. Maybe muddier. Why she'd decided to come along with him to kill the pirates. He puffed on the cigar, enjoying the rush of tobacco through his bloodstream. Maybe she was playing an angle. Her puzzle pieces didn't make sense. Not yet anyway.

He pushed himself out of his car and headed back towards the hold. De'Ville was staring at True Mandalorian banner. Kazaar leaned against the wall and took another drink. "Parents had it f'years. Always told me never t'be on th'wrong side o'the fight. Ever run inta that? Bein' on th'wrong side?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She frowned a little, memory of being trapped in her own body while she watched it battle her allies too fresh to ignore. Probably not what he was thinking of, but she couldn't think of a more wrong side to be on. Observing. Practically helpless.

De'Ville shrugged. "The victors write the history books, but that does not mean the ones who lost were wrong. If you believe in what you fight for then those that oppose you are always on the wrong side."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar snorted. "Ain't talkin' 'bout winnin' an' losin'. Talkin' bein' wrong. Fightin' f'something that ain't worth fightin' for. 'Cause it sucks." He shrugged. Drinking made him introspective. It'd all change once he got drunk, but he wasn't sure if that would happen tonight. Too much work to be done.

"That Carrack cruiser o'theirs is prob'ly gonna have, what five...six levels?" He changed the subject to clear his head. "Pirate crew like that's only gonna have 100...hell, maybe only 75. Whatta ya wanna do? Just head right t'the bridge an' take out the Barsoom? Or go kick their asses all th'way through th'ship?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"Depends on your objective," De'Ville said softly. She'd never considered her battles to not be worth fighting. If you did not believe your cause was just, or that you were in the right, why fight at all? Then again, she'd never beaten herself up about past choices, either. What happened, happened. "And how you are intending for us to gain entrance to the ship in the first place. What's your plan for breaching the hull?"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar smirked. "I registered this ship out t'the Refugee Relief Movement. Gotta pal who owed me o'favor. Perfect way f'the pirates t'make o'quick cred." At least that's what he was hoping. Kazaar had a feeling it would work out that way. Pirates weren't always predictable, but the Red Circle would want the supplies. It would be easy for them to sell the supplies on the black market. "I know what ya thinkin'...what if'm wrong. Got powerful 'nough backup shield t'get us the frack outta space're down to th'planet. Need be, we hide out forra couple days'n fly out.

"I ain't 'spectin' that t'hafta happen. Those frackers'll prob'ly dock with us an' try t'force us to surrender." He gave a smoke-filled smirk. "Those grenades I brought sure as hell ain't f'show. Once we take out th'first few pirates...be easy t'get on board an' kill th'rest."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"Sounds like you have it all figured out." She smiled thinly, staring through the tattered Mandalorian banner with unfocused eyes. There was little chance for a sneak attack to the bridge, and she wasn't feeling like trying to crawl through vents to make that happen anyway. "And once we have the ship?" She didn't seem to think it was a possibility they'd fail.

Lilaena blinked, and turned toward Kazaar. "Fighting our way to the bridge will be messy. Do you want to take the ship, or leave it?"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar shrugged, then downed a final glass of bourbon. "Got no use fer it, but someone'll want it. Figure I can get more than o'few creds for it. Rebuild th'house or go find 'nother spot t'disappear to. Hell, might even use th'creds f'more grenades an' go do my own war 'gainst the frackin' Imps. Since th'Rebels ain't interested in doin' their frackin' job."

He scratched behind his right ear. His was getting a little shaggy, but he liked it. "Why? Know someone who'd want it?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"No. Just wondering how concerned you were about it's integrity after we're done with it." She smiled and raised an eyebrow. "Lightsabers cut through anything, after all."

Lilaena leaned back in her seat and watched him drink. "The Alliance chose to settle for the stalemate. Not a victory, or a loss." She frowned, trying to tie his sentiments about the Rebellion into his previous comments and not coming up with anything. "Governments concerned with billions of innocents can never make the hard choices. They will go with the safe ones." She shrugged. "I fought the Empire before I joined the Rebellion and I will continue to. Thanks to you," she added, raising an imaginary glass to him. "You saved my life."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"You ended up on my ship." Kazaar raised his empty glass to return the salute. "Th'frack I was gonna do, space ya? Ain't m'style. As f'the Rebellion...frack them. Difference between playin' it safe an' not havin' the stomach to finish th'job." His voice went harsh and his eyes flashed. "I was there. Those frackers didn't care. Hell, had o'Bothan councilor tell me it'd be 'peace in our time.' Frackin' di'kut. Empire don't give o'shit 'bout treaties an' peace. Just want power."

Kazaar didn't tell De'Ville the full story. He'd actually sworn at the Bothan councilor and his entourage. When the Bothan councilor retorted it was obviously Kazaar was just a "blunt instrument" and didn't understand how the galaxy worked, he snapped. Took five Rebel army soldiers to pull him off the politician, with The Kid yelling, "Aurelias stop!" the entire time. Estelle Russard had known how mad Kazaar was, but didn't think her partner was going to do that. She'd visited him in the brig an hour later, telling him how badly he'd "fracked up" and how she was pulling whatever favors she could. But The Kid couldn't do a lot, she was about to disappear herself. Kazaar had volunteered to go with her, but Estelle shook her head. She'd tried to put on a good face, but both of them knew he was done. Kazaar was released later and told never to show his face on a Rebel ship again. If he did, he'd be tossed back in the brig. His answer was a raised middle finger.

Kazaar gave an ugly look at the memory. "Rebellion ain't 'bout freein' folks. Ain't 'bout winnin'. Just 'bout stalemate. Ain't how t'win o'war."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"It could never be a rebellion forever. Their goal was always to form a new galactic government," she pointed out. "And the fact is there is a treaty and more peace right now than there's been since the Rebellion started. The war's over - there's nothing to 'win' at this point." He grunted, and glared at her over his cigar, and she held up her hands. "But everyone's entitled to their opinions."

Rather than debate the finer points of a treaty she only knew the cliff notes on, Lilaena got to her feet and then sat on the deck, reaching for her toes and stretching out her tight and tired muscles. "How much longer until we arrive?"