Star Wars: Fragile Threads

Fragile Threads

Banking the Steadfast over the makeshift docking pads within the security fence, Drake saw a large crowd of people gathered by what appeared to be a municipal building in the center of the outpost. "What's that all about?"

"That's where the outpost manager asks us to assemble," Tiaja replied, sitting behind him. "Usually when there's bad news. I hope it's not too late.

~ ~ ~

On the wall of the municipal building, a screen fluttered. It was in desperate need of repair. Dathomir's humidity had wreaked havoc with the internal circuitry, causing the images to float, fade, and then go black for brief periods of time. The outpost manager, a Human man with a receding hair line and an expanding stomach, banged his fist against it until the images cleared. Usually the place where wanted posters were broadcast, the terminal revealed the images of five children, all girls, ranging in age from 7 to 15 standard years.

The crowd gathered in front of the terminal simmered between anger, despair, and sorrow. Hands in the air, the outpost manager called for calm. "We're doing everything in our power to find these missing girls."

"They're not missing," a woman cried. "We know where they are, and we need to round up enough guns to go get them." The crowd cheered for her.

"Quiet down, Rafferta!" said a man beside her. "You know damn well what happened to the last crew that went into those caves. They never came back. What good will that do us? We need to offer a trade for the girls. They're mercenaries."

"They're cultists!" the woman retorted. "There's no bargaining with them. They're insane. We need to wipe them all out."

"People, listen," the manager cried. "Not all Nightsisters are evil."

Recognizing a short, lanky man at the back of the crowd, Tiaja punched him in the face. She held onto his tunic to keep him on his feet so that she could nail him a second time. "You back-stabbing bilge rat!" She snatched the Tusken Cycler Rifle slung at his shoulder and struck him with the butt. "I ought to kill you!"

Nose broken and bloodied, the farmer fell to his knees, hands raised in a plea for mercy. Tiaja drew the lightsaber from her rijani war skirts and struck him a fourth time with the cylindrical hilt.

"Nightsisters not evil?" the woman scoffed, pulling a shawl tighter about her neck. "Tell that to Geerd."

The metallic clicking of blasters and blast rifles brought an abrupt silence to the assembly. Drake grabbed Tiaja's hand, careful to lock her wrist and prevent her from igniting the lightsaber. "That's enough. Nik?"

His first mate quickly interceded. Dragging the groveling Human away by the collar, the Wookiee leveled her bowcaster at the citizenry that had her captain in their sights.

"W-wait, wait, hold your fire. She's not one of them. Not anymore," Geerd pleaded. "She was born in this outpost." He gasped, coughing as he struggled to breathe through his ruined nose. "Her sister's one of the missing girls—Jani."

"Tiaja Moorn?" the outpost manager asked. "You've been gone—"

"Five years!" Tiaja screamed, struggling in Drake's embrace. "I became one of them to keep the Nightsisters away from my sister. Every credit I made, I sent back here for Geerd to take care of her, and look what you've done!" She tried to break free, but Drake held her back. "I will get my sister back, and I'll kill anyone who stands in my way!"

"We'll have no threats, Tiaja," the manager scolded. "I knew your folks. May the Force be with them. Can't have you roughen up folks. There's enough bad blood to go around. Let's talk in my office."