A Bothan's Trial

[Tank]

It turned out Cain’s hiding place was a little too good. Logar sprinted right past him, up and out of the installation. Cain decided to take the stairs instead of the elevator. It would be easier to defend from there if he ran across any more pirates. As he sprinted up the stairs he could hear the hustle and bustle of the pirate base coming alive. The second floor basement was buzzing with activity. He decided to forgo the opportunity to kill some pirates and sprinted up the stairwell to the ground floor.

As he opened the door to the main hallway he was immediately confronted by two pirates. They were both wearing tailored uniforms and Cain wasn’t. Cain opened up fire on the first one killing him instantly. The other, blaster still in its holster, charged Cain. He was forced back into the stairwell and his back hit up against the railing. The pirate was trying to push Cain over the railing and down the stair case. Fortunately the human pirate was much smaller than Cain was. Cain shifted his weight and pivoted on his back foot, using his weight and the pirates to knock the pirate over Cain and over the railing.

Cain let out a sigh of relief and continued to charge out of the base. He located Logar in a speeder and immediately jumped in. He changed the magazine in his repeater, stood up in the speeder seat and started returning fire as they drove out of the compound. He was able to catch two more pirates in the chest as the two were retreating.

Cain watched in awe as the tank fire completely obliterated the base. The only thing that would have been prettier is if they had been Baridium rounds. Logar floored it and got them to safety quickly.

“That, went fantastically if I do say so myself!” Cain said ecstatically. “You got the information we needed?” Cain grabbed the datapad Logar had used to record the information on. Cain did a simple word search for Nor’baal and was pleased when no words were found in any of the documents matching that name.

“Job well done, Logar. I think you’ve earned yourself a spot on our team.” Cain looked back at the base that was now going up in flames. Several airspeeders were attempting to make it out and away from the base but the tanks were shooting them down like flies.

“If you don’t mind driving us back to the spaceport? I’ll take you back to Botawui and we’ll be in contact when we next need your services.” Cain smiled hoping the current mission had helped solidify Logar’s involvement and not done anything to estrange him from the group.

 

[ErosThanatos]

Job well done. The Bothan let that phrase roll around in his head as he let his heartbeat slow down. A job well done. Logar glanced sidelong at Cain. That went fantastically and a job well done. He sighed, taking one hand off the wheel and fishing out his last cigarra. The t'bac stick was bent, but he lit it anyway and inhaled slowly.

Logar couldn't quite pinpoint why the operation had him so irked. He'd been in near-death situations before. He'd handled stress professionally in the past. Why the dark mood? He certainly wasn't sentimental enough to bemoan the death of some pirates- pirates who, he reminded himself, had been gearing up for a raid. There was no innocence lost, here. This was at worst pragmatic and at best downright righteous. Logar snorted twin plumes of smoke. Maybe it was because Cain wasn't a Bothan. There was nothing wrong with non-Bothans, but they weren't... they didn't really seem right. They were all just a bit off, humans especially.

"Speaking of services, you'll need my escrow account. Services rendered and all." Logar said dryly. "Hazard pay, even."

Maybe that was it. Fundamentally, Logar hadn't agreed with the operation in the first place. There were a half-dozen ways to get the information that Cain had wanted, and this method had been as subtle as a hammer. Logar grudgingly admitted to himself that he'd perhaps been working for himself for too long- and Spynet had never had a particularly tight leash. If Cain payed, that was that. He'd have to-

That was it. The mercenary attitude. Logar realized, with an unpleasant feeling in his stomach, that he hated doing an operation like this for mere credits. The Mandolorians had built themselves a system of ethics based around things like honor and glory. It worked well with a mercenary career. The mercenary lifestyle was a vehicle to something more important, in their schema. What was it for Logar? It was... credits. He gained nothing but a higher number in his bank account.

That would have to change. This employment would do. United Mercenaries was at least professional. It would do for now.

 

[Tank]

"Speaking of services, you'll need my escrow account. Services rendered and all. Hazard pay, even." Cain smiled at this, just like a Bothan. All work and no play.

Cain instead handed him a driver.

"Put this in your datapad, it's got an account number and password. It's your MU account. Money will be automatically deposited here for any future missions you decide to take part in. What you do with your money from there is completely up to you. But I will tell you that we have some of the best bankers in the galaxy working to grow whatever is in your account. Jet Pirone, my personal assistant, will oversee your account." Cain finished, after a second he decided to add, "You'd like him, he is a Bothan."

"You've got five thousand credits there, standard pay for this type of mission. Many of our members make money in more...unsavory manners while out on missions, just be aware." Cain directed Logar back to the spaceport. They drove the rest of the way in silence. The adrenaline from the mission was beginning to wear off and Cain's mind was closing down. He was nodding off when the speeder finally came to a stop at the spaceport.

"You coming with? Or is this where we part ways?" Cain asked as he stretched his arms and climbed out of the speeder.

 

[ErosThanatos]

"I can make my own way back." Logar said bluntly. He touched his forehead in a casual salute, then pulled the speeder away. He didn't feel like making small-talk with the Mando mercenary. In fact, he didn't feel like doing anything but gathering his thoughts over a Lannik-brewed ale. Today had been good. Well, it had been alright. It hadn't been bad, at the very least.

The Bothan hang an arm out the window, enjoying the cool breeze rolling through the speeder as he found a quiet alley to dump the vehicle in- it had been off the lot long enough to be reported stolen, in all likelihood.

The fact was, Logar had enjoyed himself a little bit. The end of the operation turned a bit dicey, but that wasn't the point. The credits weren't the point. Credits were just a way to keep score. A large part of Logar's disinclination and wariness regarding non-Bothans was a very simple lack of appreciation he felt they had for Bothan culture, and more significantly, Bothan mindset. Any proper Bothan, or at least homegrown Bothan, had a specific kind of hunger. Most other species called it 'ambition' and left it at that. Logar felt that generalization vulgar at best and unfair at worst.

The Bothan thrust his hands into his nerf-leather jacket, turning a block and scanning the avenue for bars. When he found one, he aimed for it.

It came down to dreams, really. There were, as Logar saw it, two kinds of dreamers. Those who dreamt at night often had the objects of their desires - their various lusts and passions - flee with the coming morning light. Bothans, though, dreamt during the day. Eyes open. Frank and honest in their aim. That was what Logar felt unfair by the general stereotype most held for his species. The schemes were never in and of themselves the end. They were a means to an end, and Bothan society at large valued the application of those means.

The ends didn't justify the means, they uplifted them. The elegance of the schemes, the eloquence of the speech, the efficacy of the movement all informed the value of the objective.

As Logar sat at the bar, swirling a Lannik ale, he felt at ease in a way he hadn't felt all day. He was whole, he was unsullied in his methods or intent. For now, that was enough.