RMFF Home
Denver Fanforce Board
Imperial Outfitters
Smuggler's Alliance

Obroa-Skai Home

 

Chapter Ten


Ten days of conferences and ten nights of arguments are the result of a seemingly impassable stalemate. The young woman standing between the two middle-aged men seems to have reached her limit in civility. Two men, who have both had great impacts on her life: one, her former employer and mentor (the man who rescued her from a life of want on the hard streets of Coronet City); the other, the mysterious man who mentors her today (the man who has taken her under his wing and who has been teaching her the ways of his people so that she might someday solve the mystery of her origin).

But her position today is as negotiator between these two powerful and stubborn men: a job that she has not been having much success with, so far.

“Toman, please? I worked faithfully for you for many years. So, why would I now attempt to betray you in such a ridiculous manner?”

The heavier man strokes his beard thoughtfully before responding to the young woman’s question. “Mees, I hold nothing against you, but I know very little about this man with whom you are currently acquainted. For all I know he could be trying to put me out of business to set himself up in this Sector.” Pointing an accusatory finger in the gray haired man’s direction.

Meesahran lets out an exasperated sigh, “Oh, for all the money in The Core, what would ever bring you to that conclusion?” Throwing up her arms in gesture of incredulity, Meesahran falls back into the chair at the head of the table.

Toman rises uneasily from his chair, with a small groan from heaving his girth up from the seat. “There is nothing to show me why I should have any part of this plan you’ve cooked up, Wizard! And I will not sit here any longer and listen to your wild schemes until you can prove to me that this is above board and on the up and up.” Toman turns to walk away.

Leaning over to his pupil, Falion Mussiri whispers, “And now we will learn our price.” Straightening himself in his seat, Falion clears his throat, stopping Toman in his tracks. “Perhaps we should discuss this proof, Master Higaeri.”

Toman turns back around and motions to the man at the door. “Perhaps we should, Master Mussiri...” A sly grin crosses his bearded face, and as he sits back down, he begins to stroke his beard. “I have an idea of how you might prove to me your sincerity.”

Falion nods his head in affirmation, “I thought you might.”

Meesahran sits back up in her chair and listens as Toman Higaeri explains his plans.

“You see, I have this little disruption, that may well become something bigger, if left unchecked. However, my regular people are ill equipped for this kind of work. I have a contractor that I use, from time to time, but I feel this task may require the expertise of your student and maybe even a little wizardry.” Toman’s eyes betray his disgust at the gray one’s abilities. “Anyway, there appears to be a rogue group of pirates that have decided to impersonate my people and hijack ships en-route from the Corellian Sector and Chandrila in the hopes of discrediting my operation. However, they made a serious mistake by hijacking my own legal cargo. I need to find out who these people are and where their base of operations is located. And I need you to work with my contractor in order to secure this information for me.” Toman sits back in chair, relishing in his apparently successful tactics.

Meesahran begins to speak with words dripping in disdain, “Toman, I will not be a bounty hunter for you. My convictions on that have never changed. And for you to ask that of me and Master Mussiri is uncon-.”

“Please child! I am insulted that you would ever believe such a thing from me.” Toman sits up in his chair and leans in towards Meesahran. “I ask this of you because I know that only you can accomplish what I need without bloodshed. You and this mystic, along with my contractor can find these scoundrels and allow me to set up a trace on their activities... Think Mees... Do you really think a simple rogue group of pirates has the gall to not only go up against ME, but to also try to discredit me? . . No, there is far more to this than what is apparent right now. I need information from you and nothing more. Are we clear on this point?”

Meesahran nods her head, “My apologies, Toman. It has been some time since we last worked together. Maybe I’ve gotten too much from the Holo-Net reports lately.” She looks into her master’s eyes for confirmation of what she is about to say, and seeing it there, she continues, “We will agree to this mission, on some conditions.” Her master looks somewhat puzzled.

“I’m listening, Mees.” Toman finally relaxes back into his chair.

“First, you front for supplies and any essentials we might need. That includes a new data-pad console. If we are going to be able to relay info to you directly, I’ll need one of your encrypted systems.” She waits for his objections and when she receives none, she continues. “Next, you will begin putting the plans into motion. You know me, once I promise something, it will be done.” On this point she waits for actual confirmation.

Toman makes a few entries into his data-pad, “Well, I suppose those are fair demands. I can agree to that and-.” Meesahran interrupts him this time.

“There’s one more, Toman. This whole deal depends on this ‘contractor’ of yours. I will not work with just anybody, and you damn well know it. I’m not getting dragged into some hairy situation with some skifter card character. I may be used to your antics, but I refuse to expose Master Mussiri to your scum-bag ‘contractors.’” Meesahran looks to her mentor and searches for approval of her stance. Once again she finds that acceptance in his eyes.

Toman continues to tap on his data-pad, seemingly ignoring Meesahran’s final condition. “Toman, I’m serious about this, so don’t even try one of your little jokes.”

Toman begins to chortle, “Oh, my dear little vrelt. I learned that lesson with you a very long time ago. I believe I can allay all of your fears in just a moment. Our friend the ‘contractor’ has-.” The gigantic doors to the conference room swing wide open to reveal the silhouette of a man striding towards the table.

Falion Mussiri turns in his chair to gain a better look at the man entering the conference room. He appears to be a man of average build, wearing a dark colored flight suit and utility vest, carrying a satchel slung across his shoulder. Upon closer inspection, Falion notices that the man has brown hair, not short but not long, falling down across the man’s brow. On his face he sees something Falion was not expecting, recognition. He turns to ask Meesahran if she recognizes the man when he realizes that she has left his side and is running straight for the unknown man.

Dropping his satchel as Meesahran jumps into his arms. “Jae!” The two embrace fiercely. As they separate and the man reaches down to retrieve his satchel, “Master Mussiri, this is my old friend. Jae-Lee Reklaw, I would like to introduce you to Master Falion Mussiri.”

Jae extends his hand in greeting, but Master Mussiri only stands and bows to him. “Oh, don’t worry about him, Jae. It’s an Alderaani thing.”

“Well, in that case...” Jae clasps his hands together and bows deeply to Falion. “Good morrow to you sir.” When he rights himself once again, Jae carries an intoxicating smile upon his face.

“Ever the gentleman, huh Jae?” Meesahran says as she puts an arm around her dear friend.

Toman, a knowing smirk on his own face, strokes his beard and says, “So, I am guessing that this ‘contractor’ suits your standards, young lady?”
 

Creator: PtrsonsZOO (Jennifer)

 

Back to Index                Continue to Next Chapter

Back to Force Dawn Home

©2002 Rocky Mountain Fan Force
"Star Wars" and related elements are © Lucasfilm Ltd., and their respective owners.