Jedi Fugitive (The Bad Batch)

61

Astera:

Benni didn't take us to the control room first. Instead, he led us downwards, stopping at the bottom of the ladder to watch a trio of loudly laughing miners pass into the next room.

"You said the control room's on the top level," Omega hissed accusingly, pulling irritably at the collar of his jacket. The thing definitely looked uncomfortable on her, and I had a feeling it was bothering her more than she liked to admit.

"We can't just walk right in," he fired back. "Only Mokko's inner circle has access cards. We'll need to swipe one."

"You're not part of his inner circle?" She asked incredulously. The kid had bragged so much about Mokko's generosity and favour that even I was almost a little surprised. If I didn't know what the galaxy could be like.

"Not yet. But I will be. I'm working my way up."

"And how long have you been doing that for?" I asked him, the words a little more sarcastic than I intended them to be. It brought him up short, forcing him to stop and actually think about it.

"Long enough," he admitted eventually, sounding almost vulnerable for a second. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared though, a hard, determined glint replacing it. "But if Mokko finds out I helped you, I'll be sent to the mines, so act natural."

A short walk and another ladder down, and we were in what appeared to be some kind of mess hall. It was small, dirty and completely devoid of food, yet at least ten other kids ranging from Omega's age to just younger than me were loitering around, either playing games, chatting, or just leaning against the walls. Like they were all waiting for something. And they all had some number of stripes tattooed on their necks, just like Benni. Reflexively, I touched a hand to my throat, glad the skin tight body glove covered it.

Benni went straight for the pair engaged in some sort of game at the central table, sliding in next to the boy with a huge pattern curling over his neck while Omega and I took a seat at the table behind, observing the miners and their interactions.

"We were just talking about you, Benni," the older boy said casually, placing another piece in the arrangement splayed out in front of him. "Where you been?"

"Here and there," Benni told him airily with a casual wave of his hand. The other boy did not look impressed, studying the game in front of him with an almost cold intensity.

"Bet you think that ship you scored for Mokko will make you the top earner this round."

"Why not? You can't expect to win every time."

The boy snickered, slamming a game piece down on the table with more force than necessary. "Can't I?" His opponent rubbed a hand over his forehead with a sigh - he'd apparently won the game - and he claimed the big stack of pieces in the centre with a cocky smile.

A door on the side of the room hissed open and some sentient whose species I couldn't have named if I tried strode in, flanked by no less than four sentry droids. He was almost as big as Senator Taa, and his right arm was missing, replaced by a cheap cybernetic with a claw attachment for a hand.

"That's Mokko," Benni said quietly, so quietly I almost didn't hear him. Around us, the young miners began getting to their feet, nearly running towards Mokko and crowding around him with a clamour. The tattooed boy lazily threw down his chips, standing with all the boredom of a spoiled senator's kid who knew he was getting what he wanted. As though he knew he was better than the other starving miners.

"About time. I'm starving."

Benni stood too quickly and fell sideways, slamming into the other boy's back as he made to leave. To outside eyes, it would look like he had merely tripped, but I caught the quick flash of his hand as he reached out and snagged a key card from the boy's pocket. He was completely oblivious, shoving Benni into the table with a snarl before joining the others with Mokko. Omega hopped off her seat to check on him, hunched over the table as though in pain.