These Shattered Stars -- Logs

Before leaving, Freyja takes a moment to mentally review... then picks up her Heart of the Dragon, and heads for their cargo space to pick up a few boxes of the renewable medpack cartridges. She tucks some into her belt, and some into Vakkal's, as long as he doesn't object. Then she cheerfully heads out with him, "Food first! We'll need all our energy if a lot of healing is necessary, and I want to check the slave quarters, the Gammoreans, and the mercs."

At Dholman's, Freyja considers thoughtfully, then orders a sort of strong stew with a bit of meat and a lot of vegetables. She deliberately orders more than she can eat for herself, then lazily savors the meal with great pleasure. It feels good to be alive, and to maybe have started something wonderful and new for Ameil and the slaves here. She makes sure the extra stew is then packed carefully up to go; she'll carry it with her to visit the Sedraki.

While they're at the eatery, Freyja pulls out her medkit and gives her canid friend a long, thoughtful look. When he looks up inquiringly, she smiles and asks, "Vakkal... will you help me with the healing tonight? I don't want anything excessive -- I just want you to help with swapping things for me. When I hand you the used medkit, all you'd have to do is pull the exhausted cartridge, clear the screen, pop a new cartridge in, then hand it back to me." She looks hopeful, "Will you help me with that? I'll gladly walk you through it a few times here first, if you'd prefer?" Her sincerity is quite obvious -- she has utmost faith in Vakkal's ability to do this, and she wants to help him, if she can, see this for himself.

Vakkal blinks. "Errr... if you trust me with even that much, Freyja, I'll try..."

Freyja brightens happily, "Absolutely, Vakkal! Here, I'll show you..." She is as good as her word, running through the procedure two or three times, then having him do it too, in front of her. It really is simple -- press the cartridge eject button, press the screen-clear, pop in the new cartridge -- and Freyja's explanation, like her voice, is calm, reassuring, and matter-of-fact.

Vakkal seems able to handle that reasonably well. So long as he doesn't actually use it, he seems like he handles it well. Freyja beams happily at Vakkal again once they're done, "Excellent! That'll make things far easier for me, and give me a moment to breath if there are a lot of injured."

The cantina is as filled as it was the last time Freyja was in there. The recent attacks don't seem to have disturbed the clientele, and most of the attacks don't seem to have been on the city itself. There's a lot of talk, however, and every so often one of the more 'illuminated' customers starts to talk about Thorghul the Hutt, before simmering down.

Freyja listens with a bit of interest, curious as to how both Thorghul and Ameil are seen... apparently folks are more incensed at the attacker? That's a good thing, she thinks... but how do they see Ameil? She'll listen for anything on that also, with equal fascination.

There's not a lot of talk about Ameil -- any mention of her name seems to be in relation to, "You see what Thorghul did to Ameil's fortress?" and "Ameil's gonna have one hell of a mad-on at Thorghul." Freyja nods thoughtfully to herself. It sounds like Ameil's one of those absent-but-not-resented type of lords, then... and as someone attacking the comfortable status quo here, Thorghul is not well-appreciated.

Freyja will finish up all she can eat, then head with Vakkal to the Saido family's abode. She moves with light-footed pleasure in the moment, despite the lowering sky, her shimmering blue and gold coat flaring about her. At the Sedraki family's home she passes on the good news that their ship has been recovered, and asks Fengwu to meet them there instead of at the hostel the next morning.

She also mentions her intention to head for the other slave quarters, across the devastated, bombed paddies... then blinks, looking at the package of stew she's carrying. "Well, wolf-feathers -- that was foolish of me! I can't carry this along while I'm heali..." Her voice trails off thoughtfully -- and then she looks up at the small family hopefully, "May I ask a small favor of you? May I leave this here, and we can consider it a sort of payment in advance for Fengwu's help tomorrow?" She adds a little embarrassedly, "I hope it won't be a bother...?"

Guanxhu arches an eyebrow and isn't fooled, but ere he can say anything, Youdo smiles graciously and nods, accepting the stew and placing it neatly in a preserver. Freyja grins cheerfully and thanks them both, then happily produces her Heart of the Dragon for them, "Zero said you liked seeing his, so if you'd like, I brought mine too?"

Guanxhu also doesn't seem to be taken easily by the neat sidetracking, but he lets it slide for the time being. He examines Freyja's Blue Dragon appreciatively, nodding. "Sah, it's been a long time since I've seen any of the Dragon Hearts. Thank you, Freyja. It's a good reminder of what we might yet return to."

Freyja smiles with quiet happiness at having good news to share with those that deserve it, "Well, more like shall, honored fu. It's my expectation the Sedraki ships should come within the year, perhaps." She grins, "I hope to not see you all here again, when we return this way! Let us hope our next meeting will be on Sedrak itself."

She thoughtfully adds the information she has concerning the Sedraki slaves being pulled aside at some point to have their implants pulled. She grins, adding, "Let all your compatriots know, please, honored fu, they shouldn't flee for the hills or anything? If they do, they'll miss the arrival of the Sedraki ships!"

Guanxhu smiles quietly, nodding. "I hope so as well for that. I will be curious as to see what happens when Sedrak learns we are here..."

Freyja doesn't know the exact answer to that. Instead she spends a little time chatting quietly with the family, just enjoying their company... then heads with Vakkal towards the other slave quarters, trekking carefully through the shattered paddies to get a minimum of mud on their boots. She's humming with quiet happiness to herself... she's very happy the Saido family accepted the food. She'd picked an extremely nutritious meal deliberately, after all.

The other side of the paddy is in shambles. It's clear relief workers have been working all day, pulling who they can out of the rubble, and in some places they are still working. Most of the worst cases have been sent to the ramshackle little hospital in the Mos. The blast was a large one, though.

Freyja spends a chunk of time helping the wounded at the blast site. Once that area's better, at least as far as wounded, she heads for the ramshackle Mos hospital. She works steadily and calmly, with a smile and a quietly comforting word for everyone. She keeps Vakkal near, making sure he's got all the boxes of medkit cartridges, and does her best to help as much as she can. She sticks, as much as possible, to using the medkit. Force healing she reserves for truly desperate cases, since it takes so much out of her, and she wants to be able to help everyone.

Freyja finds a lot of injured people. Some are doing better on their own, others are greatly helped by the bit of healing Freyja can bring them. An unfortunate few... the best Freyja can do is ease them gently on their way, giving them a hand to hold and a quiet voice to reassure them as they slip away.

Many hours and many healings later, Freyja heads a bit tiredly up towards the fortress in the early evening twilight. She smiles quietly, a bit forcedly, at Vakkal as she trudges along next to him, "How're you holding out? Maybe we can get some nice, hot tea once we're done here... I hope so, at least. I could use a bit of a pick-me-up."

Vakkal says quietly, "I'm doing all right. It's... just been a long day."

Freyja nods wearily, "Hai, I'll drink to that..." At the fortress she walks up to one of the Gammoreans guarding the shattered front... hole is the best word that can be used for it, really -- and in Huttee explains she's the healer, here to check on the Gammorean patients and the mercs. She needs someone to guide her around the keep, please?

The Gammoreans at the front entrance study Freyja with faint porcine snorts, then confer with one another. One pulls out a comlink and snort-squeal-snorts into it briefly. Freyja hopes tiredly they appreciate the healing she did for their two compatriots during the battle, as she covers a small yawn, leaning against Vakkal while she waits.

A minute or two later Orfune appears at the doorway. Her brows arch a little in surprise. "Makkaisdottir," she says by way of greeting. "It is curious to find you here."

Freyja blinks, "Er... it is?" A moment later she adds perplexedly, "Whyso?" She pauses, realizing tiredly how that must sound, and adds, "Excuse me, majordomo... I fear I'm a bit tired just now. Are there not injured here -- the Gammoreans and the mercs -- who may need seeing to?"

"We did not expect you to come by. There are a few wounded, being tended to by Ameil's personal physician."

Freyja says, "Ah." She stands, wearily sorting things through in her head and continuing to lean against Vakkal so she doesn't unwittingly sway. Let's see. If... there is a healer looking at the injured... then... that means they may not need another? ...which would mean we could go home to the ship and get some hot food and drink...? She nods slowly once, looking back at the majordomo, "Then everyone is taken care of, mercs and all? Your healer does not need any assistance?"

Orfune arches an eyebrow, but has a faint smile. If anything, her voice has a faintly warm tone to it. "Your concern is noted, Makkaisdottir. We are grateful for all that you have done. Ameil herself is grateful." She steps to the side. "If you wish to come and see the work the physician has been doing...?"

Freyja considers a moment, realizing she's going to need a hot drink soon... then smiles wearily at the majordomo, "Thank you, majordomo Orfune. I'm sure the honorable Ameil's physician is quite capable, of course. Er..." her voice gets a touch apologetic, "Actually... could we trouble you for... for a lovely cup of hot tea, too, please? It's... been kind of a long day...?"

Orfune inclines her head. "Of course." She looks to one of the Gammoreans and says in Huttee, "Bring Makkaisdottir to the commissary, and see that she is given what she and her bodyguard need." The Gammorean snorts an affirmative. Orfune turns to Freyja. "Please go with Ghurghuk. He will show you to refreshment." Freyja thanks the Twi'lek politely, then smiles and nods to Ghurghuk as she straightens. She concentrates as she walks, so she doesn't sway or anything embarrassing as she paces carefully after the Gammorean with Vakkal.

The Gammorean waddles down the corridor at a fairly easy pace, ushering Freyja and Vakkal into the fortress. They walk for a minute or two before reaching the commissary, which seems to cater to some of the more humanoid lesser members of Ameil's court. Freyja will first make sure she and Vakkal get something hot and restorative, which helps clear her head somewhat. Once that's done, she asks Ghurghuk to show them to whatever is being used as a hospital in the keep. The food and drink is warm and soothing, and once they have recovered their strength they are ushered to the small infirmary.

Ameil's personal physician is a tall, slender Rodian, who drifts from one bed to the next. Freyja politely greets the Rodian and introduces herself. Not wishing to intrude on another doctor's 'territory,' she asks carefully if he'd care for another set of assisting hands? She's also scanning with quiet interest -- are there any mercs present in the hospital?

The Rodian tilts his head to the side. "The worst of the injuries have been dealt with," he says in Huttee. "There is not much remaining, but for bacta treatments."

Freyja does not see any of the mercenaries present. She nods to the doctor, then curiously inquires, "Are all of the mercenaries healed already?"

The Rodian pauses. "The mercenaries who attacked us yesterday? ...no. They are not fully healed. The survivors have been stabilized. Ameil wished people loyal to her healed first."

Freyja nods, "Quite understandable. However, from what you're saying, this has already occurred, aiyah?" She pauses, then thoughtfully adds, "Would you like me to take a look at them, so you are not distracted from Ameil's people?"

The Rodian hesitates for a moment. "If you are certain this is what you wish to do," he says. "They are in the cells, in the lower levels."

Freyja looks puzzled, "Er... is there a problem with aiding injured?" She considers again, then asks, "Are they still armed, or something?" She can't believe that's the case, but isn't sure why the doctor seems reticent about helping them.

The Rodian shakes his head. "I suppose they are considered prisoners of war," he says. "Albeit mercenaries, they are responsible for a great deal of the harm caused today."

Freyja nods, "Also true." She smiles a bit ruefully, "However, if they're to start making up for that, surely having them be healthy is a prerequisite, aiyah?"

The Rodian makes a slight gesture. "Perhaps. If you wish, I will bring you down to them."

Freyja smiles, nodding politely, "That would be most courteous of you, honored doctor. Or, if you prefer, Ghurghuk could lead me there?"

The Rodian says, "Ghurghuk does not have the authorization to go into the cells. Please follow me." The Rodian retrieves a set of key cylinders, and starts to move into the hallway. Freyja nods and quietly follows. She finds this extremely odd... one of the enforcers can't go into the prison cells in the lower levels -- but a doctor can?

Freyja is led down the corridors and to the lower levels, to the cell area. It is distinctly less pleasant than the higher levels. The light is dimmer, using somewhat lower-quality glow globes, though at least the cells area is bone-dry. The Rodian uses his key cylinders to access the cell block, and ushers Freyja in. She's relieved at the dryness, considering how damp it is outside -- at least they won't have to deal with that issue while healing. She looks around with interest as she enters.

Within, the cells are arranged in a few rows. Gammoreans stand guard, eyeing the prisoners warily. The mercenaries have been divested of their armor, of course, and what clothing they had on underneath is all they wear now. They are a bit sullen, but Freyja's arrival makes them perk up and eye her warily. The wounded appear to have been given rudimentary but competent bandaging and treatment. None appear to be in immediate danger of dying, though a couple remain supine on rough cots. They've been divided into several smaller groups, and placed two or three to a cell. There are about ten cells here, and most of them are occupied; Freyja counts twenty surviving mercenaries.

Freyja thanks the Rodian doctor for escorting her down to this level, idly wondering internally if Ghurghuk will be called back once they return to the keep proper. She then wanders around for a moment to orient herself, nodding and smiling politely to any Gammoreans who make eye contact with her, and idly wondering if any of them will recognize her as one of the people who helped in the dais room.

The Gammoreans snort to Freyja; presumably that's their form of greeting. The mercenaries are mostly silent as they watch Freyja. They at least appear to have been fed and given water in addition to the basic medical treatment.

Freyja wonders if the sergeant is there. She can't really tell, considering the person she saw was in a visored blast helmet. She thinks a moment, then smiles... can't hurt to ask, but healing first. She goes to the first cell with people on cots, and taps on the door lightly, looking to the doctor, "Could this one be opened first, please?"

The Rodian hesitates only for a moment, but inclines his head. "Of course." He opens the outside door, calling for the sergeant of the guard, who waddles in shortly after. The doctor instructs him to open the first door, and after briefly checking with whatever central security office there is with a comlink, the first cell door clicks and slides to the side. The Gammoreans present keep their pikes at the ready.

Freyja stands in the doorway and says with careful clearness, "I am here as a healer. Please don't do anything foolish." That said, she walks in quietly and calmly to the man on the cot, to check him over. She's not worried... she knows Vakkal is at her back.

Vakkal moves like Freyja's shadow, as she moves towards the mercenaries. The two who are ambulatory edge clear and away from Freyja as she goes to the cot. The Human on the cot has a wave gun wound along his side -- not unlike what Zero suffered on Sedrak. Most of his skin cells along his side have pretty much exploded from the heat, but a burn dressing and bacta pad have been applied.

Freyja smiles to the man as she kneels next to the cot, "Heiyo... my name is Freyja. Don't worry, I'll be very careful." She quietly applies the medpack and works on healing the merc. The man swallows a little nervously, watching Freyja closely even as he nods his head once.

Freyja murmurs quietly what she's doing as she does it, knowing that's more reassuring than just someone working silently on you. As with the slaves, her voice is quiet, calming, and (as best as she can make it) inspires confidence. She heals some of the worst of the mercenary's burn damage. When she's done, some more liquids and some food and the mercenary should be able to be at least on his feet.

Freyja looks pleased, "There we go... that's better." She looks curiously at the man, "So... what's your name? Do you know someone named Gorosh? Did he and the sergeant make it all right?"

The mercenary swallows, and with a thick Alderaanian accent says, "Sai-Cronn Draego." He inclines his head to a few cells over. "Sergeant's over there. Keeps saying something about Gorosh trying to shoot him." He hesitates. "Thank you," he murmurs.

Freyja smiles and pats the man's hand lightly, "You're welcome, kuras Draego." She hesitates, full of questions as to why and how mercenaries choose who they'll work for... then politely doesn't bother the poor man. Instead, as she rises, she simply informs the guards the prisoner will need a bit more liquids and food, and then he'll be at least on his feet again. She should head for the next cell with wounded. She figures if the sergeant is almost raving, he may be one of the seriously wounded, and she can talk to him -- or better yet, find out who led this sad little group of apparently under-trained individuals.

Freyja wonders, as she heads for the cell's door, why the merc's name sounds vaguely familiar. It's at the doorway that it hits her, and she exclaims, "Oh, hai -- Draego! That's where I've heard the name -- Haus Draego!" She turns, giving the man a puzzled look, "What are you doing here? Are you a remote cousin with no inheritance to speak of, or something?" She opens her mouth to ask another question -- then catches herself. No blurting things out that might make the situation worse for the poor man! Instead she watches him with quiet interest, wondering if he'll agree with alacrity to her suggested 'out' -- instead of telling the truth, whatever that might be.

The mercenary grunts a little, looking at Freyja inquiringly. "Yeah... yeah, actually. Cadet branch; a great-grandfather fell out of favor and left." He smirks humorlessly. "Most Houses aren't twitchy about bastard children, unless you try to make them your lineal heir."

Freyja nods thoughtfully, then curiously asks, "Do you know someone named Aaron Deno?"

The mercenary winces. "Guh... you just healed me, lady, you tryin' to make me bust a gut? Yeah, I know the name. A cousin in Draego who thinks my grandpa got a bum rap sent a long message to us, since he knew we were in Hutt space. Said to watch out for Deno and his connections out here. I guess getting told off by House Draego got him angry or peeved or something."

Freyja covers an amused cough with her slender golden fingers, then smiles, "I apologize, kuras Draego. Hai, he's... well, from what I've heard, he's vindictive and... not very smart." She grins, adding politely, "I can't think of anyone more deserving of being told off, really. Ah... do you know what or who those connections are?"

The merc shakes his head. "Oh, he's smart. Crazy, but smart. Ah, I don't know, I never met him. As for his connections... don't know that either. Hutt connections, connections at Kessel...."

Freyja nods quietly, "I see. Well, thank you again, kuras Draego. Rest and heal." She slips out just as quietly, heading for the next cell, keeping to herself the passing thought that Deno may be smart... but not very wise. To the guard she says in Huttee, "This one next, please?"

Freyja moves from cell to cell, healing as needed. Not all of the mercs are really in need of her ministrations; most have indeed been neatly prepared for more elaborate treatment or natural healing. Of course, wave guns and c-guns tend to be pretty brutal, so there are some severe injuries awaiting more bacta or prosthetic replacement.

In all, Freyja remains pleasant and soothing, asking the mercenaries their name, chatting, being generally nice. The tranquil air ends when she reaches the sergeant's cell, however. Before it can be opened, the sergeant -- a Nikto, it looks like -- throws himself against the bars, glaring at Freyja. "What did you do to Gorosh"?!" he shouts in Aurabesh.

Freyja sighs quietly, watching... then answers evenly, "I tried to save your lives. We had to get to the dais room... it was either go around or through you. Better the armor soak up your weapons attacks than my friends carve you into small pieces." She asks politely, "How are Gorosh and your other companion?"

"Gorosh is dead! He wouldn't stop! Thought we were going to kill him! It's one thing to be killed by an enemy, I'd never complain about going out that way! But a soldier should never have to kill one of his own men. What did you do to him?!"

Freyja is silent for a moment, then looks down, "I'm sorry to hear that... I always prefer people not die." She looks back up at the man, adding quietly, "You know as well as I, I'm sure, that 'friendly fire' isn't. Why are you asking me what I did to him? I know you felt it too. I could tell by what you said... and so did the other man with you." She straightens then, adding firmly, "Now. You have an injured man in there with you, and he needs seeing to. You need to calm down and step back, please, so the door can be opened." She watches silently, debating internally as to whether she should try using Force friendship on him, to help him quiet.

The sergeant glares at Freyja for a few moments more, then gestures harshly with an upraised finger. "So help me, if you do something to him too...." Sharply, he turns and slips to the side of the cell, folding his arms and leaning against the wall there, glaring at Freyja.

Freyja nods quietly, then looks over her shoulder at the guard, indicating the door. She'll try not to use the Force's friendship if she can... she'd rather the man trust her of his own free will, if she can possibly persuade him to do so. If he's foolish enough to try attacking her or Vakkal, of course, that's different.

The sergeant makes no movement as the door is opened -- maybe some of that is due to Vakkal and all the Gammoreans watching him like hungry frehkees. The man on the cot is unconscious or sleeping; there is a blaster wound in his shoulder and what looks like wounds from a fragmentation charge -- either a flechette gun or a fragmentation grenade.

Freyja kneels next to the cot, shaking her head once in quiet concern... this is the ugliest damage so far. She sets the medkit on the man for diagnosis, then lets it work while she gently checks the cleaning-out on the fragmentation damage. Looks like a good job was done, though... she's relieved. She might have had to use the Force to get really deep bits out -- but apparently they've all been removed.

Freyja sighs in quiet relief, then finishes healing the man up. She sighs again once she's done, turning to lean back against the cot and smile up at Vakkal, "I think that's it, my friend... everyone's been seen to." She lets her gaze drift over to the other, standing members of the cell, and visually checks the Nikto sergeant, wondering if his armor soaked up all the damage Gorosh was trying to do. Aside from a bandaged wound on his leg and a crisscross of bandages over his torso -- and a really put-off wet-catta expression -- the Nikto sergeant appears relatively unhurt, and at least ambulatory.

Freyja opens her mouth to offer to check his wounds... then just sighs and looks away. He'd be affronted. Instead she just says mildly, "Were you the mission leader? I realize you're likely to take this wrong... but I'm glad your people chose to surrender, so no one else was killed."

The Nikto says neutrally, "I was not. The lieutenant was killed in the fighting in the dais room."

Freyja nods quietly, studying the Nikto thoughtfully... then just sighs quietly again, pulling herself tiredly to her feet. Her tone is rueful, "Well. I'd stay and chat, but obviously I've outstayed my welcome." She nods politely to the Nikto as she leaves. She sighs internally again as she does so. She'd have loved a chance to try to persuade the mercs to put their faith in someone besides Thorghul... but she doubts the sergeant is currently rational at this moment.

The Nikto makes no further remark, and the Gammoreans lock up the cells again as the doctor ushers Freyja out. Freyja nods politely to the doctor, "Thank you, doctor, for your patience in seeing me around here."

"You are welcome, Makkaisdottir. Thank you for attending to them."

Freyja nods silently. She's quietly glad the mercs were at least attended to -- she's not ceased to be impressed with Ameil's care so far -- but still feels vaguely depressed as she follows the doctor upstairs. She'd been so close, in a way, to getting people to talk; to maybe figuring out some other way she might help things a bit more here... and then the sergeant changed it all in a flash. Ah, well... win some, screw up massively on others, she thinks tiredly to herself. She wonders idly who represents the mercs here. Probably the furious sergeant... not the best choice to protect his people currently, she thinks. Poor guy.

Freyja's not surprised at the sergeant's vehemence, but she is rather disappointed. She wishes the sergeant had the brains to realize he's got very few friends just now. Yelling at one of the only folks willing to aid his people is not the smartest thing he's ever done, she suspects. Plus, if she could have figured out something they wanted or needed, and it matched with something Ameil wanted or needed -- then hey, that's a win-win situation for her and them, and they can all thumb their noses at Thorghul! -if, that is, she can get them to talk to her, she tiredly reminds herself. Sounds like that's a no-go, unfortunately.

As Freyja makes her way towards the keep's exit, more than a few of the enforcers greet her rather cheerfully (a few with some more raucous hails), including a Rodian she recognizes as Thorn's first officer. At one point before she steps out, there is a squealing commotion, and four hundred pounds of Gammorean careens around a corner, almost throwing a rickety droid over on its side in an electronic storm of invectives. The Gammorean seems to be charging right for Freyja, squealing and snorting urgently.

Freyja smiles and waves in return, although on occasion she's not sure precisely who she's waving to, or what her relationship to them is, due to her current tiredness. It is really nice to be thought well of, though... her vague depression evaporates slowly as she moves through the keep. She blinks at the on-coming Gammorean -- then wisely gets out of the way!

The Gammorean all but skids to a stop, narrowly missing toppling Freyja and Vakkal over. With rather undue haste and a perfect lack of respect for Freyja's personal space, the Gammorean hurriedly takes Freyja's hand and bows, pressing it to his forehead, and squeal-snorts something rather elaborate. At this close range Freyja can tell this is the Gammorean she first attended to in the dais battle.

Freyja blinks, a bit puzzled, but doesn't resist. Instead she says politely, "I'm very sorry, but I don't speak Gammorean. Ah... is there someone here who can translate for you? Do you need assistance?"

"He says he is grateful for what you did to help him yesterday, and on behalf of his clan -- of whom there are a dozen in service to Ameil the Hutt -- he thanks you for what you did, both for himself and the guards of the fortress." Orfune drifts out of the shadows to stand beside Freyja. The Gammorean snorts and nods as enthusiastically as a species without necks can.

Freyja blinks again... then smiles, "Oh. I understand." She considers a moment, then remembers she's seen Orfune speak in Huttee to the Gammoreans. Carefully she does a small bow to the Gammorean, then smiles and says, "I -- my friends and I -- we are all pleased we could be of some assistance to you and your lord. From what I have seen and heard, she is a good lord, and worth the loyalty and care of your clan. She is very fortunate to have that."

The Gammorean snortles -- that's really the only way to explain the sound of porcine glee he gives -- and bows again, before scrambling off to his duties. Freyja smiles internally, realizing majordomo Orfune is demonstrating some of the qualities of the Haus Rigg majordomo -- being exactly where she would do the most good, at exactly the right moment -- but without anyone really knowing precisely how or why she happened to be there just then.

She grins as the Gammorean trots off -- that's really an impressive, ground-shaking gait! -then looks at the Twi'lek and smiles again, "I hope the honored Ameil is doing well, as well, and that clean-up proceeds apace?" She pauses, then adds curiously, "Has there been any break-through on discovering the true reason for the attack?"

The Twi'lek inclines her head. "She is, and it does. While she would dearly enjoy executing the mercenaries, she cannot blame them for the tactics they used. It is the bomber pilots whom it is unlikely she will show mercy to, but they have so far escaped. Once the Rapier is repaired, Captain Thorn hopes to be able to hunt them down."

She eyes Freyja a little. "There has been some, yes. Thorghul the Hutt is deep in the slyth trade. That is, he is the major source of distribution for ryll, space, and other narcotics to the Republic's gal-west regions. Ameil's own 'territory' overlaps with him somewhat, though she is more involved in the smuggling of precious metals and tibanna gas into and out of the Republic. Thorghul sees Ameil as a potential threat, and wishes to dominate all of the gal-west and gal-south underworld routes into the Republic."

Freyja nods quietly, then tilts her head curiously, "The Rapier was damaged? The Captain and his crew, however, looked none the worse for wear, as I recall, earlier today?" Then she looks puzzled again, "Wait... hunt the bombers down? Er... from where did they disembark?"

"It was well enough when they landed, but apparently in the process of pursuing the thieves -- they had stolen a 'bauble' of Ameil's, one she was particularly fond of; a piece of jewelry for which she had gained many compliments at various convocations -- in the process of pursuing them, his ship's hyperdrive sustained some damage. While his engineer is excellent and amongst the best in Ameil's and Thorn's employ, he cannot work miracles, and the Rapier is nearing a hundred years old, without a significant hyperdrive replacement. The bombers themselves were dropped off in low orbit by a freighter, and retrieved by same before our other enforcers could respond."

Freyja nods slowly, considering. A century-old, non-Republic ship, still using its original hyperdrive? That is a good engineer. She murmurs softly, half to herself, "Pity they couldn't catch those damned bombers..." She looks back at the Twi'lek, curious and fairly sure she won't get a chance to talk to Ameil about this -- so she might as well see if the majordomo will share information with her. "So... what will happen to the mercenaries?" She's thoughtfully interested to realize the meaning of Orfune's statement -- Thorn hires his own people, then? She's also interested to hear Hutts wear decorations. She'd read of that, but never seen any vids of it.

Orfune nods, "Indeed, it is. While Ameil would enjoy the chance to order those pilots' deaths herself, she will settle for her enforcers doing the job. After all, if a Hutt cannot pay the people whom she takes under her protection, gratis, how can she protect those whom she demands payment from to be protected? That, I suspect, is another reason for the attack: to discredit Ameil."

Freyja nods, unsurprised. She muses for a moment, then realizes it's probably Thorghul the Hutt with whom the Senator Kalatis has connections... and quite possibly the Black Wind tong, too. She frowns, vaguely disgusted at the thought.

Freyja considers what she knows of the Hutt. By default, the planet Tynnea and everything on it belongs to Ameil the Hutt, and is protected by her. If she cannot do that, merchants and traders will just laugh when told to pay protection money. Freyja would guess, though, from her readings, most residents don't pay protection monies in the usual sense. More often, well-to-do local residents gift the local ruling Hutt with tributes or bribes -- much like the kurasai take care of the aristoi, in her experience, although with less potential force involved -- and that must be what the majordomo is referring to, when she mentions Ameil paying her people 'gratis.'

That, and the many small dirt farmers or tiny one-person businesses give Ameil a little also. Not too much, nor always creds, nor demanded too often, or Ameil would be a bad 'parasite' -- and instead of a mutually beneficial relationship, she'd kill them. Freyja grins at the sudden thought -- of the Hutt and the aristoi as beneficial parasites. Still, in a way she supposes it's true. Patronage and protection is important to the poor, and still often immensely helpful to the more well off.

Freyja remembers one of the only two times she's seen a kurasai kneel to her family... a very old, well-respected woman, asking that her great-grandchild be accepted into the family's direct, house retainership. The kneeling had made Freyja feel a bit uncomfortable as a child, but she'd understood the extremely ancient mutual ties of patronage and protection the old wise woman had been invoking. There hadn't really been any way her family could say neh, after that. Freyja grins quietly again to herself, realizing how cleverly the penniless-but-honorable old woman had seen to her family's needs, even as she'd seen to her liege lord's needs also.

Orfune is quiet for a moment. "The mercenaries were a direct strike team. They performed according to accepted small-unit tactics in use by militaries throughout the galaxy. They fought none who were not armed. While brutal and effective, they cannot be faulted for the way they conducted themselves, even if their target was Ameil herself. That some killed noncombatants, such as one of Ameil's... favored companions, has not been denied by the mercenaries, and she accepts they were in the line of fire, though she is not yet sure what sort of recompense there can be in such a case, short of a life for a life. The bomber pilots, however, were not nearly so discriminatory in their targets."

Freyja frowns thoughtfully, silent... then looks up with a slightly mischievous grin, "Pardon me, majordomo, but it would seem most helpful for Ameil's reputation... if laughter could somehow be pointed at Thorghul, aiyah?"

Orfune arches a brow. "The Balmorran and Alderaanian tradition of bardic satire, you mean?" She says the words in Aurabesh, there not being a direct equivalent in Huttee.

Freyja grins, also switching to Aurabesh, "In a manner of speaking, hai. I would suggest the honored Ameil send a pleasant response to Thorghul, thanking him for his tribute of slaves to her... perhaps even commiserating with him as to his needing to get rid of such clumsy ones." She smiles, adding quietly, "And then... let the mercs work to fix the damage they've done. I saw that happen once in my fa- uh, family's liege lord's court -- a foolish and drunken young man killed a family retainer by accident."

"Initially the baron was furious, and it looked like the young man would die for what he'd done, both to a family retainer, and to the family of the deceased ranger -- she'd left a husband and children behind, after all. But the young man was truly remorseful at what he'd done, and the baroness -- and, strangely enough, the widower himself -- spoke up for giving the young man a chance to pay for his crime..." her voice is quiet as she adds, "-especially since his death would not bring the good woman back..."

She had been rather unhappy that time, and also much younger, so she'd been more shocked -- and, in a way, frightened -- to see the young man throw himself at her parents' feet and plead tearfully for mercy and another chance. That was the first time she'd ever seen someone kneel to her parents -- and the most impressive one. She still finds it vaguely disturbing, as a result, that Sith lords are knelt to by their subjects.

Orfune listens quietly, letting Freyja tell her tale in her own manner. "It is certainly a good idea. But of the story you tell... you are wondering if the mercenaries would work for Ameil instead of Thorghul?"

Freyja tilts her head and smiles at the Twi'lek, murmuring, "Use implants. And be fair, I'd suggest. Write up the bill they're working off -- at least as much as can be monetarily stated."

She sighs quietly, then adds, "Maybe, if they're treated honestly and fairly, they'll switch allegiance themselves. I still find it extremely peculiar they had good equipment, but didn't do simple things like picking off wounded, or bring along grenades. It's..." she frowns, considering, then adds slowly, "It's almost like Thorghul wanted them to fail...?"

She pauses, then says even more slowly, "Would... Thorghul consider honorable mercs a detriment? Something to be disposed of in some useful manner, perhaps?"

Orfune nods. "Of course," she says in response to the mention of using implants. The idea of billing them intrigues her. "There are few enough professional mercenary groups in Hutt space." She shakes her head. "There are seventeen bodies which say they were not meant to fail. No, this attack was meant to show Thorghul does not need to go to the length of dropping an asteroid on Ameil's fortress to kill her, or have thugs lob thermal detonators at her, but rather that he can reach out with hands and do so. Besides, thermal detonators would not have functioned; there is a point-defense system in the dais room."

Freyja raises an eyebrow extremely high at the comment about an asteroid -- she has a faint idea of just how horribly expensive it would be to accurately move and place something like that! She considers for a quiet moment... then nods slowly, "I think I understand. So Thorghul did not set them up -- he gave them the best equipment he could, that would work, in order to make an attempt on Ameil's life. Hai?"

She thinks a bit more... then shakes her head, "Not... terribly subtle, is he. Were I Ameil, I'd try the subtle approach in order to get rid of him. Something slow acting but more sure... like a traitor, or poison..." She pauses, then blinks, a bit surprised, "Wait... sheisse, I hate it when that happens!" She sighs, then says politely, "Please excuse me, majordomo. I'm trying to train myself not to think like that -- in a tactical sense that doesn't take sapient lives and suffering into account... but it still creeps out sometimes." She makes a small, disgusted face at herself.

Orfune nods. "Hai," she says, that ghost of a smile back for a moment. "I daresay without your help, even had Thorn and his troops arrived minutes earlier, the day, and Ameil, would have been lost. And no, Thorghul is as subtle as he needs to be -- except when it comes to his perceived competition." She arches an eyebrow curiously. "It disgusts you that you would come up with proper -- that is, appropriate ways of exacting retribution on an enemy? No, wait," she shakes her head. "Forgive me, I forgot. You are Jedi."

Freyja smiles ruefully, "Appropriate retribution, I think, is to persuade my enemy he or she is not really my enemy." She tilts her head thoughtfully... then smiles more sincerely, touched at the Twi'lek's admission of how helpful they'd been. "Thank you, majordomo Orfune. We are glad we could help."

Freyja grins cheerfully, adding, "And besides, as far as enemies, I have no problem with helping them make themselves look foolish -- which is why I suggested the thank-you note to Thorghul!" Her grin gets a touch wicked, "Sometimes people who worry too much about their dignity get a little... hasty and thoughtless, when they feel people aren't fearful enough of them!"

Orfune nods slowly. "I can see where that would be a precept of yours." There is that phantom smile again. "You are welcome. And that was a good suggestion regarding Thorghul. I will recommend it to Ameil, with your permission, noting you suggested it. And fear... yes, fear is often seen as something to cultivate by some. I prefer respect, myself, which is why I am in Ameil's service."

She gestures outward, as if to encompass Hutt Space. "I have learned, out here, the Hutts and their minions best respond when you speak in the same language they speak to you. It is a grim calculus at first, but in the end it allows energy to be directed towards other projects. I have not had to kill anyone in years, simply because I proved early on that one simply did not attempt to try to kill or collar me. It is not fear, now, which keep such who would try at bay, but respect -- knowledge that I would not hesitate to do whatever I need to, in pursuit of my goals and those of Ameil."

Freyja nods quietly, completely understanding that premise. She's seen it often enough in action. As one of her family's huskarls used to put it -- it's the quiet ones you most have to watch out for. She smiles, studying the Twi'lek thoughtfully. She suspects, were Orfune on Balmorra and in Republic space, her family would be proud to have someone that dedicated as a retainer. She can certainly understand how Ameil would feel the same... as was demonstrated by the quiet touch on the Twi'lek toy-boy's chin, the first time Freyja and her friends were told to come meet with Ameil. She nods peacefully, "Hai, honored majordomo; if you think it would help, please feel free to give any of my suggestions to your lord."

Orfune inclines her head. "Thank you, Makkaisdottir. I should admit to you further I have not been able to address the issue of the Sedraki who are being held as slaves. It will be done before the week is over, however. There are issues of security which I must address first. I hope you understand; I have not forgotten them."

Freyja smiles, "Oh, I quite understand, as I suspect they do also -- the wounded need care first." She reflects silently, watching the Twi'lek. As with Vakkal, she knows that sort of loyalty can't be bought -- it has to be given, through respect. That's another big point in Ameil's favor -- that someone like Orfune is willing to work for her.

She adds thoughtfully, as a sudden thought occurs to her, "I wonder... what the other slaves will think..." She blinks as another thought occurs to her, "Especially once it's known, if the honored Ameil chooses to do so, that the mercs will be freed eventually..."

Orfune always speaks matter-of-factly. "Some envy. For some, perhaps hope. Many have been born or thrust into their circumstance, for a variety of reasons. I think, however, Ameil will be considering their disposition carefully. Most had been purchased from Thorghul, before things turned... how shall I put it... utterly sour between them." Freyja falls silent, listening to Orfune, then nods quietly again.

Orfune continues, "Well... perhaps not released so much as given alternative contractual arrangements. I would daresay most slaves would not want the life of a mercenary, no matter how 'free' such a life is. I know I would not wish to pursue it myself."

Freyja says, "Well... I meant more the prospect of freedom, rather than of becoming a mercenary, for the slaves. I know there are ramifications to trade (within and without Hutt space), and to the economic results (both long- and short-term) of slavery..." she smiles ruefully, "-but I'm sure you already know those, so I shouldn't bother you with them."

She wonders internally, however, if Orfune and her lord really do know what it's like to trade with the Republic. Still... to butt in and insist she be heard would be rude. If the Hutt wishes Freyja's thoughts on the matter, she'll ask... hopefully not until tomorrow!

Freyja smiles ruefully to herself, wondering if the mercs' sergeant will be smart enough to try to get someone savvy to help him negotiate the billing with Ameil, if Ameil chooses to go that route. Probably not... he strikes her as the type to assume everyone here except his own men will hate and fight him every step of the way. Pity.

She considers a bit more... tibanna gas. Usually it's a gas used in blaster weapons, but it has other uses in high-energy physics. If she's recalling correctly, it's one of the noble gasses. Also, some components of droid brains use precious metals for contacts and leads. Freyja hmms silently to herself. She's more than willing, if she can figure out how, to help Ameil by directing the Hutt in the direction of Balmorra and her family. The more Republic ties she can give Ameil, the more likely slavery will become economically wasteful... and the more likely some good cross-cultural connection and fertilization can be made.

Freyja smiles... it's worth a shot. She'd have to be careful, of course. Establishing connections with the Hutts, no matter how legitimate, does still carry a social stigma in the Republic. She can understand that... she'd wonder too if there was more than what's on the surface. Plus, the near-constant audits from the Chamber of Commerce would be annoying in the extreme, and it's a given Senator Kalatis wouldn't 'cover' for them. Still... it'd be well worth the extra effort to keep that secret, if information on the Senator's Kessel connections could be ferreted out through friendly Hutt connections.

Orfune gives Freyja an appraising look. "I am familiar with them," she says simply, then smiles a little. "You look exhausted, Makkaisdottir. You've done a great deal of work today, and should sleep."

Freyja reflects on that statement... then smiles a bit ruefully, realizing she's leaning rather heavily on poor Vakkal by now. She straightens carefully, quietly apologizing to her friend, then nods politely to the Twi'lek, "Hai, I think sleep sounds simply wonderful." She grins tiredly, then gives a small, polite bow, "Good eve to you, majordomo Orfune. Thank you for your assistance... and good night."

"You are welcome. Good night, Makkaisdottir."

Freyja is almost weaving with exhaustion by the time they get back to the ship. As she collapses on her bed, she blurrily thanks Vakkal for his care and dedication. Halfway through trying to tug one boot off... she simply falls asleep.

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Last modified: 2002-Jul-16 16:14:54

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