Beyond - Legends DonoSlane Excursions - For the life of a friend (Myn/Kirney + OCs, Drama/Thriller/Friendship)

Glad the infiltration was successful, but wow... what will they discover?

 

Now wouldn't you like to know (now). Guess you'll have to wait until next week.

 

It's Monday ... which means another post. Today a number of questions are being answered, but not all of them, yet. I'll reveal my thinking after the part that comes on Wednesday, just to tie up loose ends for those who care about that.

Enjoy!

* * *​

The hidden entrance to the underground was luckily in another shadowy corner, courtesy of stacked containers and the lighting emitted by a glowlight on a pole a hundred meters away. Myn took a guard position at the corner in case one of the guard patrols appeared, his rifle in his hands and the selection switch set to stun.

It didn't take Kirney long to find the hidden keypad underneath an old cover plate that could be pivoted around one of the screws holding it in place. Bringing out a tool set from a pouch she got to work quietly. First she loosened the latches holding the keypad's cover in place, then she carefully pried it open. She was greeted by the mess of wires and electronics one could expect inside such a device, but her practiced eye quickly discerned that additional security had been added to the system. There was this one additional cable and a small circuit board that weren't standard at all. She brought out her datapad and pulled a Y-cable from another pouch, plugged it into the port of the datapad and clipped the other two ends to the additional cable and the dubious circuit board. Bringing up the datapad's main menu she selected one of the programs she'd loaded onto it and hit execute.

Her husband risked a glance over his shoulder. "How's it going?" he whispered.

"Found some additional wiring," she returned quietly but kept staring at the screen of the datapad. "I'm trying to find out what it does."

"Take your time," he muttered and glanced around the corner. This was, indeed, far too much like the old times. "At least there are no TIE Fighters shooting at us," he muttered to himself, thinking of their adventure on Saffalore all those years ago.

Kirney didn't laugh. "Shhh," she admonished him quietly, her gaze unwaveringly focused on the datapad in her hands. "Just a little more ..." The device emitted a barely audible warble and the progress bar was replaced by the data gathered. Kirney narrowed her eyes as she scrolled through the readout. Finally she smiled to herself.

"Got you," she whispered and unclipped the Y-cable from the keypad's innards. "It's rather simple as far as security goes. First I thought this was some kind of access log connected to a central computer system, but the circuitry is too primitive for that."

Her husband shot her another glance over his shoulder. "So what does it do?"

"It probably merely gives notice that someone is using the keypad, maybe a light flashes in the common room where security is or down below. That kind of notification." She sat the datapad down onto the ground and pulled what looked like a stylus from her toolkit.

"Can you beat it?" Instead of an answer he heard a cackling zapp of frying electronics, once, twice, three times. He tensed, waiting for some kind of alarm to howl. Nothing happened.

"Already done," she answered. "Now it's just the matter of reading out the code and ..." Her voice trailed off as she unplugged the Y-cable and pulled another one from the pouch on her hip. Plugging that into a data port on the main circuitry board she flipped through a number of pages in the main menu in search of yet another of her little helper programs she'd written specifically for Wraith Squadron.

Myn gave a tiny snort. "You should demand license fees from NRI, seeing how easy this makes it for them to play spook," he quipped.

"This is for my friends," Kirney returned quietly. "I'm just trying to help them stay alive. And Intel can kiss my shapely rear."

"That's my turf," he shot back with a smirk. "Your rear, I mean."

Kirney didn't look up. "Not now, dear," she muttered evenly and proceeded to store her tools back in the satchel.

"Right." As much fun as their verbal fencing was this was neither the place nor the time.

Kirney's datapad beeped again and a sequence of numbers appeared on the screen. She unplugged the cable and planted the cover back on the keypad's body, snapped the fastenings shut and stuffed the cables back into the pouch.

"We don't know what's behind that hatch," she said as she motioned him over. "So be ready for anything."

He simply raised his rifle and aimed at the door.

Kirney keyed in the code sequence. Upon entering the fifth number the lock emitted a small metallic clack and the hatch sprang open a hair with a faint groan. Myn winced, the quiet noises seemed insanely loud in the silence of the night, but again there was no howling alarm, no guards came running to investigate. He pushed the muzzle of his blaster into the gap and pried it open with the tip of his boot. There was darkness ahead, a darkness that was tempered by a faint glow far in the distance.

"Three, we've got the hatch open," Kirney whispered into her comlink. "We're going in now."

"Copy that, Two," came the answer. "Be careful."

"We will be," she replied. "Two, out."

Myn went in first, finding himself at the top of a long flight of stairs leading down into an unknown structure. Thankfully the faint light ahead outlined enough contours for them to do without the glowsticks Myn had taped to the sides of their blaster's barrels.

"That's pretty deep," Kirney whispered as she closed the hatch behind them. "I make that more than twenty meters below surface."

"Put your back against the wall and move sideways. That way we won't silhouette if someone comes this way," he advised quietly.

At the bottom of the stairs they found themselves in front of a massive door that was wide open, revealing a room roughly twenty meters in length that ended in another door of the same caliber - and just as wide open as this one.

Myn pressed himself into the corner of the door's massive jamb and tilted his head just enough to look around it. He saw nothing but the glow ahead was getting stronger. "Looks like some kind of air lock," he whispered as he estimated the width of that door. "And those doors are massive."

"And old. So what is this place?" his wife whispered.

He shrugged. "No idea. Let's move on."

They felt their way through the semi-darkness of the room and the corridor that followed it. It ended at a T-junction, the right turn leading into total blackness, the left one revealing a half-lit room of some dimension. And there was the sound of rustling plastoid bags, of clinking glass and something else they couldn't quite make out.

Myn pressed his back against the wall and spied around the corner. The light seemed to come from the left side of his room, outside his field of vision, but he noticed the black shapes of cargo on small palettes ahead. He waved Kirney forward and traded places with her. "We'll move into cover behind those palettes," he whispered into her ear. "Let's see what we're dealing with."

He saw her nod, barely discernible in the darkness, then she crouched and carefully made her way into the room and behind the first palette. Myn waited until she signaled him to follow, then he copied her movements, concentrating on not making noise. But when he raised his head above the upper edge of the paletted freight he felt his eyebrows wander towards the hairline.

The room they were finding themselves in was roughly fifty meters long and wide, the floor was of the same dull ferrocrete as the corridor behind them had been, but the walls were now tiled. Dirt, rust and other sediments discolored what had to have been once pristine white tiles, revealing the age of the complex. On the far side of the room a row of five glowlights spent muted illumination that didn't even reach halfway across but nicely silhouetted the rows of tables and the six droids which where packing small vials into larger plastoid bags and then into sturdy plasteel cylinders.

Myn found his attention was more on the room itself as he had the impression of having seen such an installation before. And then the credit dropped. He felt his eyes widen. "I know what this place is."

His wife gestured him to go on.

"This is an ancient air raid shelter," he whispered. "And I mean ancient."

One of her eyebrows wandered upwards. "How ancient?"

"Centuries, at least. We've had trouble with pirate gangs or other lowlifes who preyed on settlements here for a long long time. And about four hundred years ago the selonian Afarathu sect staged raids on Corellia time and time again until they were finally destroyed," he explained quietly. "At that time most communities had their own air raid shelters where the populations could seek refuge during such attacks."

"I see." Kirney rose slightly and stuck her head above the palette she was hiding behind. "What are those droids doing?"

Myn also rose and squinted to make out more details. "They're packaging something. Vials of some sort, but I can't see what they contain," he whispered.

Kirney didn't answer. Instead the pulled her rifle off her shoulder, put it onto the floor as quietly as she could and then did the same with the satchel. Before Myn could ask what she was doing she was already scrambling towards the closest row of tables.

"Two," he hissed in exasperation but she made no indication of having heard him. "Sithspit!"

A few seconds later she was back behind the palettes, holding two items in her hands. "At least we know where the money came from," she muttered and Myn felt his scalp tighten and the blood drained from his face. The plastoid bag contained pills of some sort but the other was a small vial with tiny flakes glittering golden in the dim light. It couldn't be mistaken for anything else, there was only one thing in the galaxy with that particular look. It was spice.

"Kriff!"

"Yeah," she agreed and shook the vial, making the flakes dance within. "This changes everything."

"What do you mean?"

"This is no longer merely about getting Jar out of here," said Kirney. "We've got to take down this organization as well. Because if we don't they'll be back at Jar's throat in no time."

Myn shook his head. Surely he must have misunderstood her. "All by ourselves?"

"Of course not." His wife shook her head as well. "I mean we've got to gather as much intel on them as we can and then tip off the authorities to what's happening here. Anonymously, that is."

"So we've got to look for some computer terminal of sorts for you to slice in," he guessed.

"Yes, but first we're going to record what those droids are doing." She pulled out her datapad again, set it to recording mode but disabled audio capture and lifted it over the top edge of the palette she was hiding behind. She froze ... "Hear that?"

Myn raised his head and stilled. And yes, there was a faint rumble ... and it was getting louder quickly.

Kirney pointed at the far side of the room, at the pitch black rectangle of another corridor. A faint glow was getting stronger by the second parallel to the increasing noise. She placed the datapad atop the palette so that it could record and then ducked down back into cover.

* * *​

 

Oooh, definitely need to pull the authorities in on this one especially with tangible irrefutable evidence!

 

It's Wednesday, it's kriffing hot outside (and inside) and I keep wishing for AC (which are simply unusual here). Oh well ...

* * *​

The glow morphed into a pair of headlights and the rumble belonged to what looked like an an ancient auxiliary freight monorail as it slid into the underground room. The growl of engines died along with the two cones of light. The two of them, both sitting behind the palettes with their backs pressed against their covers, shared a look and then moved to spy around the corner.
The monorail wasn't long, just three short cargo wagons plus a control unit at each end, and it was empty but for the three people which were now dismounting. One, a burly human, picked up a datapad from a table and began scanning through some list of sorts. Then he pointed at a short row of small-sized cargo containers on the other side of the rail.

"That's the shipment for Balmorra," he told his sidekicks, a Rodian and a Duros. "Get started. I'll log the pickup, then I'll help."

The Rodian chattered something in his native language which neither Myn nor Kirney understood.

"The Jewel is supposed to take off at six o'clock in the morning," the man returned patiently. "So yes, we've got some time but not enough to dawdle. I want this shipment aboard and stowed before that. Got that?"

"Yes, we get it," the Duros threw in and moved to a deactivated lifter droid. "Come on, Clezz, and help me load this stuff."

The Rodian stood frozen in his spot for a second, seemingly debating whether to press the issue or not, before his shoulders sagged and he followed the Duros to another lifter droid on standby.

"Good boy," the human mocked quietly and moved towards the side of the room where Myn and Kirney were hiding. Both dropped to the floor quietly, but to their great relief he took a turn towards the other corner, entered what looked like another unlit corridor and opened a door. A second later a luma was switched on inside a separate and much smaller room they hadn't seen so far, separated from the one they were in by a permaglass window. Then the glow inside changed colors, shifting more towards blue when a holoprojector came to life.

Myn slid backwards on his stomach to join his wife. "Convenient," he whispered and gestured at the other side of the room. "Looks like an office of some sort."

Kirney cast a glance at the two beings at the far side of the room, but the noise generated by the two lifter droids would drown out any other noises. "Indeed," she agreed. "It seems this is some kind of distribution center for the spice and the other drugs." She paused briefly. "How many of those old bunkers still exist?"

He shrugged. "Impossible to say. Once there must have been thousands. Nobody knows how many still exist."

The holoprojector inside the tiny office went out followed by the luma and Myn put a finger to his lips. The burly man emerged scratching a spot on the back of his head and moved to join his two compatriots in loading the containers onto the monorail.

The Rodian, who held the control pad of one lifter droid in his hands, looked at the unperturbed droids packaging another load of drugs into the plasteel cylinders and said something but the creaking of the third lifter droid picking up one of the containers drowned him out.

"Oh, don't worry," the human replied mock cheerfully. "Those droids have minimal programming. All they can do is package the stuff. They've got no audio or visual sensors nor any capability to communicate." There was another groan of metal and a heavy thump when the lifter droid he was controlling placed the container on the monorail carriage. "All they can do is scan the labels on the vials, the bags and the packaging to check what goes where. This way they don't accidentally record incriminating data for law enforcement to find."

The Rodian seemed placated and continued his work without any further comments. It was an efficient operation for the three of them were done within another minute. The human swung himself behind the controls of the unit facing towards the corridor from which they had emerged, the Duros seated himself in the other chair of the control unit while the Rodian went to the back of the train and took a seat there.

"Hang on tight, boys," the human called as he gunned the engine. A few seconds later the now heavily loaded monorail set in motion and disappeared into the darkness of the corridor ahead of it.

The two interlopers waited for another minute before both rose from behind cover. Kirney picked up her datapad and switched off the recording. "Since those droids can't detect our presence I'm going to make a better recording of what they are doing. Better stuff for PSS, you know," she said no longer resorting to whispering as they had before.

"Good idea," her husband agreed. Then he gestured at the bagged pills and the vial with the spice she'd dropped onto the top of the palette. "Want to keep that as evidence?"

"No." She shook her head. "Imagine we're stopped by some random PSS patrol. How could we explain this? I'll put it back to where it came from."

He nodded in agreement. "I'll better call Three. He must be getting antsy by now." He watched for a moment as she methodically went from table to table, recording what she saw before he turned away and went back to the corridor outside the air lock. "Three, this is One. Do you copy?"

"Finally," his father's tinny voice came through his earpiece, the signal weakened and distorted by the ferrocrete and soil around him. "I was wondering if you'd forgotten about me. Your signal is a bit weak but I can read you fine."

"Three, there has been an unforeseen development, nothing I'd want to discuss via comlink, though. It'll take a little longer than expected."

"Affirmative," Selan returned but even with the comlink distortion Myn could hear the curiosity in his voice. "Still nothing unusual above ground."

"Keep watching," he advised. "We'll report back once we locate and extract the package. One, out."
He moved back into the big room with the packaging droids and found his wife copying the content of the datapad the burly human had studied just a few minutes ago. "You done?"

Kirney nodded. "In here, yes. I've recorded the droids packaging the stuff and I've taken holos of any freight label I could find. Now let's take a look at the office."

Keeping in line with the virtually non-existent security of the place the office was neither locked nor connected to a security system in any way. To her surprise she felt a certain professional resentment as this was far too easy and she had to remind herself to take solace in not having to work against much better security at a considerably higher risk. But when she switched on the holoprojector, they hadn't bothered with the luma, she did let out a growl of wounded professional pride. "You've got to be kidding!"

Myn gave her a perplexed look. "What is it?"

She didn't turn to look at him. Instead she huffed indignantly. "The moron didn't even sign out of the system, he just switched off the holoprojector. I don't need to slice anything, I am already in."

"But that's good, isn't it?"

"I've seen creches with better security procedures than this," Kirney growled and let her fingers dance across the keyboard. "I'm wondering how this level of sloppiness works for someone who smuggles drugs."

He pondered the question for a moment and had to agree that it didn't really match what they'd seen in the larger room. Running spice was one of the most serious criminal offenses in pretty much any legal code, but it was one of the most profitable businesses known, too. Which meant the risks were enormous due to active opposition from both law enforcement and competitors. Which would, or should, necessitate some serious and painstaking security procedures. "Maybe they just have become sloppy," he guessed. "This thing must have been running for years and years already without being detected. Any security will degrade over time when it isn't challenged from without or supervised properly from within."

"True," she agreed but kept her eyes fixed on the holo projection. Suddenly she threw her hands up in exasperation. "Oh, really? This is such a joke." She didn't give him time for an answer, though. "This account has administrative access. I can access everything and do pretty much anything to sabotage them."

Myn put a hand on her shoulder and waited for her to look at him. "Keep your cool," he advised gently. "I know it hurts your sense of professionalism but we're not here to give them a security system. Remember?"

His wife took a deep breath to steady herself. "Okay."

"So, what now?" he asked, attempting to gently prod her back into the mission mindset.

Kirney pondered the question for a few seconds. "Since we have access to pretty much any database connected to this terminal I don't think the disk space of my datapad will be enough to copy everything. But we don't have the time to sift through it all and copy only the relevant parts." She remained silent for a moment again, then he heard her click her back teeth to open a comlink channel. "Four, this is Two. If you can read me communicate via my datapad."

The tiny screen lit up with Tonin's reply. [I read you.]

"Check signal integrity and strength. Is it sufficient for large-scale data transfers?"

The droid's reply took a moment. [Signal integrity and strength sufficient but barely so.]

"Affirmative, Four. How much of your internal memory is unused at this time?"

[Six hundred and seventy-four point five oh nine three petabyte.]

Kirney gave a satisfied nod at herself. "Good. I am going to link this datapad to a computer terminal. We have administrative level access to their system. Ready for tasking?"

[Affirmative.]

"Task one: Find any references to the package we're here to extract, copy all of it as well as any links, documents, cross references and especially communication logs. Once done, delete any of the mentioned files from their systems or, if you can't delete them outright, scramble them so they can't be recovered."

[Understood.]

"Task two: Comb through their network and databases for any evidence of large-scale criminal activity centered upon Vhinntar Shipping and this facility here. Put together a nice big data package for law enforcement."

[Understood.]

"Okay, third and final task: Once you're done erase any traces of access to the network from this terminal. The timeframe for this is between five minutes ago and whenever you're finished."

[I copy.]

She fished the data cable out of her satchel again and plugged it into both the datapad and the computer terminal. "Datapad is linked. Get to work, Four. Two, out." She left the datapad on the chair and turned to her husband. "We have a package to find, One. Let's do that."

The corridor ran in a straight line but its end was lost in the darkness beyond the short range of the glowsticks taped to the barrels of their blaster rifles. Every ten meters or passages so led into smaller rooms that, judging by the heaps of rusted metal and decayed furniture inside, must have been used as medical posts, kitchen or communal bedrooms to house those fleeing from the raids above. But at the end of the corridor there was one old-fashioned door, not a powered one that was standard these days but the really old stuff with hinges, and that one was locked.
Kirney looked at the low-tech nightmare of a thick metal bar secured with a massive padlock which kept the door closed and shook her head. It was really old school stuff, a real metal key was needed to open it. Unless, of course, you knew how to prod it into cooperation with the help of tools. "Is it just me or are we hitting any sithspawned stereotype of 'dumb criminals' tonight?"

Myn shrugged and lifted his rifle to provide her with more light. "Can you crack it?" he asked, intentionally ignoring her question.

"Sure." She reached into her satchel to pull out the toolkit once again. Selecting two thin stylus-like devices the went into a squat and peered at the padlock. "It may take a moment, though."
Using the twin tools in her hands she tried to pick the lock, but it was slow going. Three times she caught the edge of the mechanism keeping it closed only to have her tool slide off. The fourth time the stylus got a secure grip, she twisted it around and the lock yielded.

The room behind the door was just as small as the office at the other end of the corridor had been. It was bare but for a chair and the person bound to it. It was Jarrath. He was not looking at them, his chin rested on his breastbone, his head tilted ever so slightly to the left.

"Sithspit," Myn swore and moved inside. He swung his rifle onto his back and drew the vibroblade from its forearm sheath. Jarrath's captors had used simple cable ties to fix him to the chair and as he slid his blade underneath the tie binding Jarrath's right hand to the chair's armrest he couldn't help but notice the unnatural white color of his friend's hand.

In the meantime his wife had pulled back Jarrath's head, but he didn't react to that, either. "He's unconscious," she declared and produced a tiny luma from a pouch. Peeling back one of his eyelids she shone it into his eyes and watched the reaction of the pupil. "Looks like he's been sedated."

"Just as well," Myn muttered darkly and gestured at Jarrath's right leg. There was an unnatural bump in the middle of the shin, a sure sign of a broken bone.

"Oh Jar," Kirney said quietly and gently pushed some of his unkempt hair out of his face. "What have they done to you?"

"We can't leave the way we came in," said Myn as he cut open the last cable tie. "Not with Jarrath unconscious."

His wife turned to look at him and he saw an eyebrow arching upwards. "I'm not sure it would be wise to take on all those guards, either."

He shook his head. "I wasn't thinking of gunning them down. Remember that T-junction just after the air lock? I bet that's an alternative bolt hole."

"You sure?"

"No, but it would make sense from the tactical perspective. The main entrance is easily defensible, but it would not make sense to get bottled up in a room without an alternative escape."

"What about that monorail?"

"Possibly, but who knows how long that tunnel really is. No, I was thinking of something far closer ... like that factory ruin next door."

"Of course," she breathed as understanding dawned in her eyes. "Let's get going. I want Jar in a Medcenter as soon as possible."

"Me, too," he agreed and moved to pick up his unconscious friend. Clicking his back teeth he opened a com channel. "Three, come in."

"Three here."

"Change of plans," Myn grunted as he hoisted Jarrath over his shoulder. "The package is immobile and unconscious. We've got to recce an alternative exit."

"Need any help?"

"Negative. We suspect an alternative escape inside that ruined factory next door. We'll report in once we know more. One, out."

"Just three things left to do," said Kirney. "No, four things. I check whether Four is finished and pick up my datapad, we get out of here, I and Four are being dropped off at a public com terminal and then you get Jar to a Medcenter."

"You got an idea where to send the data to?" he grunted with the effort of keeping the unconscious Jarrath balanced on his shoulder.

Kirney slid the door close behind him and clicked the padlock into place. "I'll simply save myself the time and effort and send everything to Rostek Horn. He'll know where to go."

"Good idea. Go see if Four is finished and then let's get the Sith out of here."

* * *​

Here are some pieces of the background I put together (despite not using most) for the "villains" in this story.

Spoiler: Read if you're interested

Josar Vhinntar is not a criminal mastermind, far from it. In fact he is little more than a pawn in someone else's game. Like Jarrath Lund in this story he ran into financial troubles and went to the wrong people while seeking help. Contrary to Jarrath he doesn't have the "Sith-may-care" hardheadedness and quickly fell in line with the demands of his "creditors". In fact he is merely the public facade for his company, the face in the media and running the day-to-day legal operations and the scapegoat in case the operation is being detected.

Just who is behind the drug running operation I have not fleshed out (as it was irrelevant for the story) - maybe it's remnants of Black Sun, maybe someone else. This organisation has sent an overseer, the man we got to know as Yagomir Dempsey, to actually run the illegal parts of Vhinntar's operations, to keep an eye on Vhinntar himself and to keep him in line. The entire "buy companies left and right" scheme was started in order to build up Vhinntar's shipping capacities and to eliminate competitors (so that more legal shipping would be available as cover for the smuggled drugs).

The seemingly lax security is both intentional and part unintentional. The lack of sophisticated security and sensors aboveground is intentional. By not having anything in this regard the company truly tries to hide that there is something else than empty shipping containers at this location. The non-existant computer security, however, is the result of lackadaisical (or non-existant) oversight, years of running undetected and the lazyness of people that will always manifest itself if allowed.

And now I'm off for a shower, the third today.

 

Wonderful extraction and Kirney really is good at itemizing need to do lists Very efficient!

 

Well, the Empire is a society thriving on sterile order so it should not surprise anyone that those trained by its institutions are also tending to be orderly (to the point of obsession) - with physical things as well as thought patterns.

Given that there are only two parts left I'm going to post today and on Sunday. Just to wrap this story up. Today's part could be called "Surprise, surprise!"

* * *​

It was late afternoon of the fourth day after they had rescued Jarrath from his captors. The two of them sat in the waiting area of Coronet Central Medcenter, two empty pasteboard cups with remnants of the awful Medcenter caf on the low table in front of them.
Their escape from the underground facility had gone unnoticed as Myn's hunch of the bunker having an alternative escape had paid off. The dark corridor behind the T-junction had led them into the ruined factory hall next door, the escape hatch itself concealed underneath a fake heap of scrap metal. After dropping off Kirney and Tonin he and his father had brought Jarrath to the Medcenter under the pretense of having found him beaten to a pulp in one of the many dark alleys of Treasureship Row, a lie the PSS officer brought in to investigate thankfully had been keen to swallow.

Myn stretched and let out the yawn that had been building up over some time.

"Want more caf?" Kirney asked, her voice revealing that she was just as tired as he was.

He gave her a weary grin. "If you find some real caf here, yes. But please no more of that dishwater they mistakenly sell as caf. I'd like to live a while longer."

His wife rolled her eyes. "When's Denna due back?"

That drew a smirk. "I'd half-expected her to be back at noon. I mean we basically had to threaten her with sedation to get her out of that room. She hasn't left his side for the last three days."
Jarrath had been floating in low-temp Bacta, courtesy of the numerous injuries to various internal organs, but had been pulled from the tank just this noon for the surgical procedure to fix his broken shin. Once that was done he'd have spend a few more days in Bacta again.

"If it was me in there, would you leave voluntarily?" Kirney asked softly.

Myn snorted. "You'd have to shoot me with a stun bolt and drag my unconscious carcass out of there," he retorted.

"Good to know, dear," she returned softly and placed a kiss on his lips. "Can you believe what she told us this morning?"

Myn frowned. "It's hard to believe. But this is Jar we're talking about." He shrugged. "It's not totally out of question, either. I just can't believe that Tonin let her have the access codes to Jar's computer and didn't let us know."

Kirney smiled. "He's had enough experience with emotionally distraught humans. I guess he knows when to cut corners." Her smile died. "What will we do about that?"

"It's for him to decide, but I may speak about it once he's conscious again."

Her eyes widened. "Is that wise?"

"He needs the unvarnished truth shoved right in his face," said Myn. "Wedge didn't pull any punches on me, I'm not going to coddle Jar, either."

"Remember, he's scheduled for surgery. Don't be too hard on him."

"I know," he placated and put an arm around her shoulder. "But he can't evade me here, he can't stop me from telling him the things he doesn't want to hear, things he doesn't want to acknowledge. I don't know if we'll ever get a better chance."

Kirney looked up at the holoscreen on the wall. There was no sound, the Medcenter staff had switched off the audio, but they didn't need it to recite most of the reporting word for word. The scene playing on the screen was familiar already - heavily armed troopers of PSS' Anti-Narcotics Unit were standing guard at the front gate of the storage facility they had extracted Jarrath from, a load of forensic technicians bustling about to secure whatever evidence could be unearthed. "Amazing that this has been on the news for days already. Is the galaxy suddenly at peace and I haven't noticed it?"

"Given the implications," her husband returned quietly, "I'm not really astonished. Two district governors of Coronet City implicated by the evidence you handed over? That was always going to be a kick in the guts for Micamberlecto. There's already enough grumbling over Corellia having joined the New Republic within some quarters as it is and that one is going to cause quite a stir." The scene in the news switched to yet another familiar episode, a stony-faced and handcuffed Josar Vhinntar being manhandled into a PSS speeder and yet another load of security types swarming all over the company's HQ. "Have you taken a look at the rest of the data Tonin managed to get, yet?"

"Only bits and pieces," she admitted quietly, "but it looks like a lot of that could be of interest to General Cracken as well, even though I guess he'll receive it through official channels, too. At some point, that is. There are lots of names, locations and code phrases. Could be that we got the whole of their networks implicated by that data. I'll transmit the package to Face as soon as I get off-world again."

She fell silent as a human female, clad in the habitual white and green of the Medcenter staff, approached them. "I beg your pardon, gentlebeings, but your friend is awake."

Myn smiled. "Thank you. Can we see him?"

"A few minutes." The medtech gave them an encouraging smile. "He's very tired, but one of you can see him."

He looked at his wife who nodded and gave a little friendly shove. "Go in there. I need to visit the refresher, anyway. And then I'll wait here in case Denna shows up."

Kirney waited until the door closed behind her husband before getting to her feet. She had an appointment with one of the doc droids, one she hoped would clear up the weird feeling in her stomach she'd been having of late. It was probably nothing and not wanting Myn to become worried she'd kept it to herself.

Jarrath's room was eerily silent save for the slight buzz of the air scrubbers and the hum of the diagnostic equipment. He looked pale, partially because of the off-white medical gown he'd been given to wear, partially because of the sickly color of his skin.

"Myn." Jarrath's voice was a throaty croak. "Undo those straps please. I've got to get out of here. I've got work ..."

"Finish that sentence and you'll have another dent in that thick skull of yours." The venom in Myn's voice throttled whatever Jarrath had wanted to say. "You are in a Medcenter for a reason, you Slizhak, don't give me that poodoo or I'll add a few more reasons for you being in here."

Jarrath gaped at him. "What are you saying?"

Myn forced himself to open his right hand which he had clenched into a fist. "We told them to keep you strapped to that bed all the time. Said you would most likely be unreasonable and try to get out of here."

"Who is we?"

"Me, my wife and Denna."

Jarrath paled even further. "How could you?"

Anger flared like a spark hitting starship fuel and he took an involuntary step towards the bed. "Because I knew someone would have to knock some common sense into that soggy mess of a failure you refer to as your brain," he hissed. Sith, he groused inwardly, I'm channeling Ton Phanan. "Do you really think you can deceive all of us for good? I know you are trying hard to deceive yourself, but did you really think you could keep this charade up for all eternity?"

The look he received from his friend was one of bewilderment. "What are you talking about?"

"I am talking about that little 'incredible stretch of bad luck', as you put it so eloquently when we met on the Spaceport. Be proud of your ability to lie, Jarrath Lund. You seem to have mastered it." Jarrath opened his mouth to respond but Myn cut him off with a swipe of his hand. "Don't bother. We all know the truth. We know of your financial problems, maybe even more than you do. If we hadn't been so busy over the past months we would have found out much earlier."

His friend managed a glare. "That's my life. Stay out of it."

"Oh, really?" He threw that glare right back at Jarrath. "So you were aware that you'd have been obligated to declare bankruptcy months ago?"

Jar shot him a puzzled stare. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, so you didn't even know yourself?" Myn mocked. "Denna went through your financial records. You were bankrupt three months ago at the very latest. You know what this means? Ever heard of delayed filing of insolvency? Look it up in the criminal code. It's right there in the financial crimes section."

"Denna did what?" Jar croaked in total surprise.

Myn shrugged. "She went through your financial records. We didn't even know she had access to them until she told us of her findings this morning." He didn't say a word about Tonin having given her the codes to access the data. There was no need to implicate the astromech.

"Oh Sith!" Jarrath dropped back onto the cushion, his face contorting into a mask of worry and grief.

Myn's voice softened. "Jarrath, I am talking to you this way because I know what you are doing to yourself. I have been there, I have been in your place."

"Don't assume," his friend returned but he couldn't quite manage the defiance he wanted to impart. Instead it came out weakly, tearfully.

"I don't need to assume, Jar. I know what it is like to wrap yourself into a web of lies so tightly that you suffocate yourself. I tried to mold myself into the role-model soldier I thought i needed to be so that my father could be proud of me," said Myn. "I pretended to be someone I wasn't so hard, that I totally forgot about figuring out who really I was. It nearly cost me the chance to be with my wife, Jar. I almost lost Kirney because of my stubborn refusal to see that the problem was me and that I needed help."

Jarrath managed a weak smirk. "I was never a soldier."

"No, you weren't. But I know what kind of ethics and values your father tried to imprint on you. And I see what they are doing to you."

"What do you mean?"

Myn sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I know the kind of movement your parents are members of. Really old school, go back to the days of the settlers, self-sufficiency, self-reliance. And so on."

"Nothing wrong with that," his friend croaked weakly, his eyes darting to the cup with water on the bedside table.

Myn took the cup and helped Jarrath take a sip. "Careful there, Jar. Don't overdo it or 2-1B will have my hide." He lowered him back onto the cushion. "No, on their own they're nothing to worry about. But you, my friend, have tried so hard to live up to them I was wondering if you were still trying to impress your father."

That drew a snort. "My father couldn't care less."

"I know. But your father isn't here and yet you behave as if he were standing right behind you, looking at every move, criticizing you for every decision you make." Myn hesitated. "Jar, were you trying to prove that you could support a family?"

Jarrath's eyes widened. "What are you talking about?"

"I looked up the group your parents belong to on the Holonet," Myn admitted. "I know some of the stuff they teach." He gave his friend a pointed look. "In particular their adherence to the old probation time for couples who want to marry."
In ancient times, in the first decades and centuries after Corellia had been settled, the harsh nature and the problematic economic situation of many settlements had led to failures of many farms with many families being forced into homelessness and abject poverty. Many village councils had reacted strongly to those developments by withholding the permission to marry and start a family until the man could prove he could actually run a farm and support a family. Over time this emergency procedure had taken on a life of its own, had become a tradition which some arch-conservative groups were trying to bring back - along with all kinds of isolationist and xenophobic beliefs - in order to mold the modern Corellia into the planet they thought their ancestors had imagined. Jarrath's parents were members of such a group and they had tried to instill the same beliefs in their children.

"You think so?" The defiance and contrariness had gone out of Jarrath's voice. In its stead Myn could hear wonder and curiosity.

"I know you love Denna," he affirmed. "And I know she loves you. It doesn't take much to put two and two together."

"Of course I love her." The reply was very quiet, almost inaudible. The tears in Jarrath's eyes, however, were impossible to miss.

"Then don't push her away. And stop trying to convince yourself that you don't deserve her. Let her be the judge on that one."

"Where is she? Can I see her?"

"We forced her to go home for a shower, sleep and food that isn't Medcenter food," Myn said with a smirk. "She almost refused. She's been here for three days straight." When he noted Jarrath's eyelids grow heavy he put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I'll let you sleep. We'll stay outside until Denna arrives."

Kirney was sitting on on the couch where he'd left her, but her gaze was strangely unfocused as she stared off into some private distance.

"Hey," he said softly as he slid onto the couch beside her. "You okay?"

She smiled at him. "I'm fine. How did it go?"

He thought about that for a moment. "I hope I got through that thick skull of his. In the end he was certainly not as contrary as in the beginning."

"That's good, isn't it?"

"I hope so." He shrugged. "He'll have to make decisions and deal with the bankruptcy, but if he does it right he'll have Denna to help him."

Kirney put her head on his shoulder and let out a small sigh. "There's hope for him. That's all we can ask for."

"Yeah." He put his arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. "When I came out of Jar's room," he said softly, "you had this far-away look in your eyes. Anything you wish to tell me?"

She extricated herself from his embrace and sat up to look at him. "I've got a confession to make. I wasn't totally honest with you."

A sliver of worry wormed its way into his thoughts. "What are you talking about?"

Kirney grimaced. "When I told you to go and see Jar it wasn't because I needed to go to the refresher," she admitted. "I had an appointment with one of the doc droids."

The worry in his expression grew. "You're okay, aren't you?"

She smiled at that. It was a goofy smile, full of elation, disbelief and wonder. "Don't worry, I'm fine." She produced a flimsi and held it out for him to read. "I was just wondering if there was a girl's name you'd like."

Myn's brain was too befuddled to fully grasp the meaning of her words but he took the flimsi and read what was printed there.

Subject: Human female
Test Req: Pregnancy
Result: Confirmed - approx 230 standard days to completion
G/S Fetus: 99.754% accuracy for female/single​

It took a few seconds for understanding to worm its way through the layers of bewilderment. Suddenly he felt his eyes pop out of the skull. "You're pregnant?"

Kirney gave a nod but she kept watching him nervously.

"I thought ..." He took a deep breath to steady his nerves. "I thought you were on repress meds."

"I was," she admitted, then sighed. "But with all those additional jobs of late, the feverish work pace ..." Kirney grimaced. "I ran out of the meds and totally forgot to get a new prescription."

"Oh." He made a quick mental calculation. "So you're six weeks along?"

"Yeah." A shadow of dark amusement appeared on her face as she grinned at him. "Must have been that enthusiastic reunion after you came back from Aargau."

Myn felt his face redden. "Or it could have been the welcome party you threw after you returned from that transport job to Dorumaa," he threw back at her and watched her blush at the memory.

They both stared at each other for a second, then burst out laughing. Myn hugged his wife tightly. "I love you," he whispered into her hair.

"What are we going to do about our business?" Kirney asked, ever the pragmatist.

"I don't know," he admitted quietly. To his surprise he wasn't worried, though, unlike all the times when he had pondered the implications of parenthood in the preceding months. Back then he'd spent considerable time wondering what having a child would do to them, to their company and how they'd cope with it. But now that he was going to be a father ... none of those worries mattered anymore. And he even knew why. "All I know is that we'll make it. I don't know what we'll do, yet, but I am absolutely certain that we'll find a way. It's what life is about, isn't it?" A new thought struck him, one that made him grin like an idiot. He pulled back a little from their embrace, but kept his arms on the shoulders of his wife. "I've just realized that there is one more advantage to this."

Kirney looked at him curiously. "Really?"

"Yeah." His grin got even wider, if that was possible at all. "We can finally give my parents a definite date when they ask when we're going to have children of our own."

Kirney blinked in surprise, then burst out laughing. He joined her laughter as he pulled her back into his embrace.

* * *​

Yes, @WarmNyota_SweetAyesha, you had the right instinct at the Spaceport scene.

 

Ooh, Myn sure gave Jarrath a talking to, one he needed and also out of genuine concern.
And Kirney's news!
Yuppers, there's nothing like enthusiastic reunions!

The prospective grandparents will be overjoyed!

 

Indeed. Jarrath's parents are, as it was said, members of an arch-conservative, xenophobic and isolationist fringe group that propagates a narrow "Back to the Forefathers' way" type of thinking. That includes this "probation time" for those who wish to marry. Jarrath, despite not giving a Mott's backside about the ideals of this group, has soaked up enough of this thinking as a child that he (unknowingly) tries to live up to it ... That is why he refused to seek help, why he was so Sith-bent on getting out of his troubles alone.

As promised today comes the Epilogue and with it the end of this story. Thanks everyone for reading. Special thanks to WarmNyota_SweetAyesha for commenting and not letting me feel all alone here.

* * *​

Epilogue
Nine months later

It was a bright sunny morning and thankfully not too hot despite the summer high that had taken residence above Coronet City weeks ago and showed no signs of moving. Jaleela stood in the kitchen peeling tubers for the stew she was going to make for lunch, humming along the tune emitted by the music player.

Her son wandered into the kitchen, his eyes still half-closed, the dark rings under them very pronounced and poured himself a cup of caf. "Mornin'," he mumbled. Then a yawn took over.

Jaleela smiled warmly. "Morning, Myn." She knew the source of her son's tiredness, it was currently asleep in her crib in the upper story. Ever since the little hellion named Alina Donos had come into their lives a little less than a month ago there had been no full night's rest for her parents, for the young lady seemed to take a delighted pleasure in disrupting the usual sleep patterns with multiple nightly demands for attention, feedings or a change of diapers. Because the pregnancy had taken a lot out of Kirney her husband had volunteered to take over the nightly duties to give her a chance at recuperating from the ordeal, not knowing what exactly he was getting himself into.
Jaleela couldn't help but compare the experience with that of her son's own infancy. That little girl was certainly not like her father, she realized ruefully, remembering the relatively unproblematic nature of Myn's first months. He'd been a quiet baby who'd barely caused a fuzz, slept most of the time and had been surprisingly easy to handle. No, Alina Donos was certainly not taking after him and Jaleela had the distinct feeling that her granddaughter was going to give her son gray hairs well before his time.

Myn let out a small groan and pressed the balls of his hands into his eyes.

"You don't need to be awake," she gently reminded him. "You can go back to bed."

He just waved her off. "I wouldn't be able to sleep much, anyway. I think I'll take a nap after lunch, though."

She eyed him for a second. "Want to know what helped me back then? Ice-cold shower. That always made me wake up fast."

He actually shuddered at the thought. "Thanks, but I think I'll pass."

"Wimp," she shot back jokingly before changing the topic. "Where's Kirney?"

"Upstairs in the office," he returned. "She's talking to Jar via the Holonet."

"How is that working out?" Jaleela asked, referring to Jar working for DonoSlane Excursions as a freelance pilot after his own transport company had been closed due to insolvency. None of them knew how he'd managed to circumvent being condemned for the much delayed declaration of bankruptcy, but they hadn't pried and Jarrath hadn't been willing to share details, either. The only thing they knew for certain was that Denna had helped him, their relationship had recovered from the strains of the time before Jarrath's abduction and had grown stronger as well.

Her son took another sip of his caf. "Surprisingly well," he admitted. "I know it still pains Jar not to be his own boss, but that little plan Kirney and Denna put together seems to be to his liking. I mean, Kirney isn't going to fly on a regular base for a few months, so he's quite content to take the Fair Trade and do some work in the meantime."

Jaleela's eyes twinkled in amusement. "And Kolot, too?"

"The two of them have known each other for a few years already." Myn shrugged. "I don't think it's going to be much of a problem." A smirk drifted on his face. "As long as Jar understands who's boss in the cockpit, that is."

His mother choked off a laugh. "I'm sure Kolot will make sure he understands." The chime of the door annunciator rang through the house and Jaleela arched an eyebrow. As her son moved to stand she gestured at him to remain seated. "I'll take it," she said, her tone not allowing for objection, and moved out of the kitchen.

When she opened the front door she came to face two people whose faces were hauntingly familiar - Jaleela was sure she'd seen them before - but for some reason she couldn't quite place them. Both were human, one male and one female, and both were wearing big smiles. "Yes, please?"

"Mrs. Donos," the raven-haired man answered and held out his hand. "I'm Garik Loran, this is Shalla Nelprin. We're friends of your son and daughter-in-law." He hesitated for a brief moment as there was no spark of recognition on Jaleela's face. "We met at your son's wedding, remember?"

Her eyes opened wide. "Of course," Jaleela breathed and reached for his outstretched hand to shake it. Loran surprised her, though, when he placed an old-fashioned courteous kiss on the back of her hand. She felt her cheeks redden.

The dark-skinned woman rolled her eyes but her smile never wavered. "You're such a charmer, Face."

"Come in, please." Jaleela stepped aside to let them in. "Wait here. I'm going to get Myn."

It really was just a moment later that Myn wandered out of the kitchen sporting a look of curiosity that turned to surprised delight when he recognized his old friends. "I'll be sat on by a Hutt," he exclaimed and opened his arms wide. "What are you two doing here?"

Shalla was first to embrace him, Face followed closely. "We've been appointed the Squadron's official envoys and spies," Loran said lightly, his tone a mix of joking and honesty. "We've been tasked with congratulating the two of you on the little one and satisfying the squad's demand for new holos of the three of you." He held Myn at arms length, noting the dark rings under his eyes and smirked. "Looks like Daddy hasn't got much sleep of late, has he?"

"Ignore him," Shalla advised gently. "He was teasing Kell mercilessly when Doran had just been born."

"Are you going to keep them standing in the anteroom?" Jaleela asked, leaning against the doorjamb of the kitchen, arms crossed and wearing a smirk.

Her son grinned sheepishly, then gestured at the other passage that led to the living room. "Make yourself at home," he said. "I'll get Kirney."

It wasn't long, in fact the two visitors had barely managed to take place on the couch, before the sound of someone storming down the flight of stairs to the upper story thundered through the house. Kirney barged into the living room at break-neck speed, skidded to a stop and stared at her two friends. "Are you real?" she asked as she drew Face into a rib-crunching embrace. "Are you really here?

Face laughed and held her close. "No, you're imagining things, you-who-looks-like-Kirney."

"Don't listen to him," Shalla interjected as she drew Kirney out of Face's arms and into a much gentler hug. "He's just being his usual silly self." She withdrew slightly and studied the redhead intently. "You're looking good, a bit tired but good. Motherhood seems to agree with you."

Kirney smiled. "It does. It's not all Daruvian Champagne and Selonian Oysters, but we couldn't be happier."

"So where is the new arrival? Could we be graced with her presence?"

Myn snorted as he sauntered into the living room but softened it with a smile. "We just got her to sleep and believe me, that's a blissful, blissful state for as long as it lasts. You'll have to be patient but I bet it won't be too long before Her Royal Highness let's us know that she demands her humble servants' attention." The smile widened into a mischievous grin which he directed at his wife. "And given how someone barged down the stairs I was half expecting her to make her displeasure known."

Shalla arched an eyebrow. "The little one's a bit of a handful, eh? Well, then let's use the time she allows us mere mortals and talk."

They sat down on the couch and the two armchairs. "So," Face began and pulled a small satchel from his shoulder. "As I told Myn we're the Squadron's envoys and spies. So let's begin with Squadron business." He reached into the satchel and produced a datacard case which he put onto the low table ahead of him. "We've brought holographic congratulations from all those who know, including General Antilles and Janson."

The redhead gave a sigh of mock relief. "At least he hasn't sent a life-sized stuffed Ewok."

Shalla smirked. "He probably couldn't find one on such a short notice, but given time that still may happen."

Myn groaned and buried his face in his hands, his wife rolled her eyes.

"Suck it up, the two of you," Face remarked, "you are the lucky ones. He already showed up with one for Doran when Tyria was still in the Medcenter. And don't forget you're still in his crosshairs for that prank with Kolot." He looked around. "Where is he, anyway?"

"He's off with a friend of ours who helps out with flying the shuttle while Kirney here stays home," said Myn. "You really think Janson is planning something?"

"He's always planning something." Shalla chuckled. "We're talking about Janson here, after all."

Donos heaved a sigh. "Then we better hope inspiration fails him this time."

"Optimist," Face scoffed in return. "Anyway, back to Squadron business." He reached into the satchel again and produced a datapad. "A little present from all of us, but Tyria gave us the idea. It's information on a 'Our Baby & Us' holiday they took when Doran was about six months old. Tyria highly recommends it, they liked it very much. The Squadron has pooled funds and bought a voucher for you. It's valid for twelve months, so you have a bit of leeway with taking it."

Kirney accepted the datapad with trembling hands. "Thank you," she breathed and wiped a surreptitious tear from the corner of her eyes.

"You're welcome," Face returned with a smile, pleased that the present was appreciated this much. He reached yet again into the satchel and produced a folded pink cloth. "Can you guess what this is?"

Myn frowned. "Looks like a romper suit."

Loran exchanged a mischievous glance with Shalla, then unfolded the piece of cloth and held it up for them to see. Kirney choked off a laugh, Myn actually burst out laughing. It was a romper suit, but a very special one. It was pink, the standard color for a girl, and there was an elaborate embroidery in the space over the heart depicting the comic-like figure of a friendly and smiling wraith. Above it the writing Junior Wraith Squadron was emblazoned, beneath it Member #002.

"I hereby present you with the official Junior Wraith Squadron romper suit. It can't be purchased anywhere, we had it made specifically for your daughter." He patted the satchel. "Knowing the habits of babies we actually brought three of them so you don't need to worry about ruining it." He folded the item again and put it onto the table.

Myn picked up the folded cloth, his fingers tracing the embroidery. "This is cute," he said with a smile. "Let me guess - Doran has a set of blue ones with membership number one."

"Of course." Loran grinned broadly. "It's an exclusive club, after all. Only children of former or active Wraiths can become a member." His expression turned sly. "So, if you're looking to secure number three ..."

"No way, poster boy," Kirney interrupted him, giving Shalla a look who gracefully acquiesced and slapped the back of Face's head. "We've just got one and that's how it'll stay for a while."

"And I can live without having to prepare late-night snacks of sweet bread with bluefruit jam, mustard and gherkins," Myn remarked slyly and got a slap from his wife as well.

Face shuddered at the combination. "Okay, I get the drift." His demeanor changed to something utterly professional as if someone had flipped a switch. "There's one more thing, something unofficial, but I think you'd like to know."

Shalla nodded. "The data you sent on this narcotics smuggling operation has proved to be invaluable to Coruscant Security."

Myn leaned forward with interest sketched on his features. "We haven't had much time to scour HNE for stuff, but I can't remember any great wave of arrests."

Shalla nodded. "Because there weren't any. Cracken is playing the long game and has used the data you provided to systematically monitor those channels of illegal trade. While that didn't reveal anything spectacularly new with regards to underworld channels and players itself, it allowed CSF to connect a lot of threads, people and places, and gained insight into methods of smuggling and the associated communication channels."

"One revelation, however, was so embarrassing for the New Republic political body that even CSF was not made aware of it," Face added gravely. "One slice of the data dealt with a network of crooked low- to medium-level officials on Coruscant itself - immigration, customs, Spaceport Law Enforcement and the likes. And when NRI agents followed that particular trail of narcotics to its final customers they found themselves looking at highly placed officials of the government, armed forces, media and even some folks in close proximity to well-known celebrities."

Kirney narrowed her eyes. "What kind of officials are we talking about here?"

"Senatorial aides, ambassadorial staff, junior officers of the General and Naval Staff," he answered. "So far nobody knows if they are indeed the end users, and that would point to a massive drug problem within the senatorial bureaucracy and the armed forces, or if they were playing middle men for their superiors. I honestly can't decide which option sounds worse."

Myn gave a snort. "At least it would explain some decisions they've made, like putting Fey'lya in charge of the budget committee."

"Yeah, that would explain a lot," his wife agreed with a chuckle. Looking at her friends she asked, "Can any of that be proven or are they still collecting hard evidence?"

Shalla shrugged. "Like I said, they're still looking into this. So far no big names have been implicated directly ..." She hesitated. "Except for one."

Kirney tilted her head curiously. "Who?"

Loran exchanged a glance with Shalla. "Tuovo Santorini."

Myn felt his eyes bulge and his jaw drop. "The star forward of the Coruscant Capitals?" he asked, referring to one of the galaxy's greatest Smashball stars.

Face nodded. "He admitted it even, though his drug scan was negative. He said it's for his younger sister who suffers from a bad case of incurable bone and joint degeneration due to a genetic fault ... and apparently that's true. The poor girl is living under constant and excruciating pain, even the strongest legal painkillers don't show much of an effect anymore. A mild dose of Spice gets her through the day and a somewhat stronger one allows her to sleep at all."

"That's just sad," Kirney muttered. "Imagine having nearly unlimited funds at your disposal and still not being able to really help a person close to you. And then to be forced to break the law ..." She shook her head.

"Maybe the Senate will finally debate some exceptions for those patients who couldn't get any other treatment," said Shalla. "There have been a number of attempts to hammer out such legal exceptions over the years, but the fear of fueling the narcotics market had always swept those attempts aside. This time they have a very famous sports star to provide some public relations support."

"Well, in that case the Senate would finally do something for the people instead of ..." Face was interrupted by a high-pitched wail emitted by the baby com in the wall system.

"Ah," Myn remarked with a chuckle. "Looks like our little Princess has decided to cut short her forenoon nap and demand the presence of us lowly servants." He rose from the armchair, gesturing at his wife to remain seated. "I'll see what she wants and then bring her down. Get the holocam ready, Face. You've got holos to make."

* * *

The End (for now)​

 

Excellent banter and very satisfying and realistic resolution to the narcotics ring. Definitely a mix of those who are addicts for "recreation" and those who have medical needs. The latter group is really the unfortunate victims of the gridlocked health care and senatorial interests.