Recruiting Bomba
I need someone who could fix a hyperdrive with one hand and strangle an enraged Wookiee with the other.
I'm in a holding cell, behind bars, on the floor, flat on my back. Everything is going according to plan.
I groan. The air is hot, thick and wet. I'm lying still and have sweat running down my back. I can't believe people choose to live here.
"Oh, look who's decided to join the land of the living!" The guard is an Anx. His voice is deep and full of gravel.
I try to stand. I'm still not used to Gravlex Med's high gravity. It makes me feel like I'm moving underwater.
"Whaddam I doing here?" I slur. I'm not as drunk or hungover as they think I am.
"We have public intoxication codes," says the guard.
"Oh," I say, "I'm so very sorry." I run my hand back and forth across the bars of my cell. "I haven't s'n bars on cells 'n ages! I love 'em!"
"Sober up, pay your fine, and you can be on your way," says the guard.
"Your head looks like a knife," I stroke his tall forehead through the bars. He recoils sharply. "Like a lizardy, leathery knife!"
The Anx groans and walks away. As soon as he's disappeared around the corner, I turn to the cell next to mine. Specifically, I turn to the Dug lying on his cot and trying to mind his own business.
"You're Bomba the Dug!"
"What of it?"
"You're wanted by the New Republic and the First Order!"
"Lucky me."
I lean against the bars. "Who do you think the Anx are going to turn you over to?"
Bomba sits up, eyeing me suspiciously down the length of his snout. Sweat is beaded across his brown, leathery skin.
"Preferably the New Republic, I would imagine. But the reward the First Order is offering is higher. And I would imagine the penalty stiffer. Slavery if you're lucky. I hear they need more diggers for their mines on Ilum." I rub my chin. "If only there were some third option."
Bomba smacks his lips. "If only."
"You're a hard Dug to track down."
"You been following me?"
"I'm assembling a crew. I need people I can trust but who don't mind living on the other side of the law. Word has it as quick and cruel as are, your word is your bond."
"Didn't realize I had a reputation."
"So when I heard Anx Security picked you up, I hyperspaced over here to get locked up with you as fast as I could." I squat down to be on his level.
He slides off his bunk and catches himself with his hands. Walking over on them, he looks me in the eye while twirling one of his tendrils between his toes. "To do what exactly."
"To look you in the eye. To see if you could be trusted."
"And?"
I see him. I feel him. He's dangerous. He's short-tempered. He won't break his word but if presented an opportunity to enrich himself, he will find a way around it.
"My name is Beacon Sardis," I say, "and I believe there is a great imbalance in the galaxy. The rich and powerful are only getting richer and more powerful while the poor and weak are only getting poorer and weaker. It's my plan to bring some balance to the galaxy by stealing from the rich, taking a small cut for ourselves and giving the rest to those who need it." I offer my hand.
"As I live in breathe," he laughs a deep, throaty laugh, "a pirate with a heart of gold!"
"Whatta ya' say? Wanna get rich and help some people along the way?"
"What's my cut?" The Dug eyes me. I have his attention.
"Same as everyone else," I say. "Doesn't matter who you are or what you do, the plunder is split evenly amongst the crew."
He frowns. He's not a fan of that idea. "It's a beautiful dream," he snarls. "But they're not going to just let us walk out of here."
I agree. "We'll have to fight our way out. But it'll be easier than you think."
"How's that?"
I raise my hand over my head. "They don't know I can do this."
FWAP!
My lightsaber was confiscated by the guards and left on one of the desks on the other side of the room. Thanks to cells being barred and not encased in a ray shield, the weapon spins across the room and slaps into the palm of my hand.
"The galaxy has forgotten about the Force and they've let their guard down." I smile.
"You're a Jedi!"
"I'm not." I ignite my saber, its yellow blade screaming to life. "But don't tell anyone that."
It hums as it slices through my holding cell's bars. I raise an eyebrow at Bomba.
"So it's a pirate's life for me then," Bomba says with a big, evil grin.