Ask Tatooine Anything to Get Off Tatooine

[Gatz Derrevar]

Tatooine sucked. It was hot and dry, and what little water actually existed in the atmosphere was being monopolized by moisture farmers, who didn't even earn a decent amount of money sucking all the water supply up. The buildings were mostly sandstone, and shoddily constructed at that. It was like the complete inverse of his home planet of Naboo. Gatz was not very fond of this desert ball, but work had brought him here. It had been a simple job: the delivery of a dozen stolen astromech units, fresh off the factory floor.

R4-A1 had been jealous: the aged astromech was worried that Gatz was going to replace him with a newer BB unit. But Gatz was a consummate professional, and he delivered exactly what was asked. He didn't steal a cut off the top.

With a job well done, the young smuggler found himself within the cool atmosphere of a cantina in Mos Espa. He sat at a corner booth, feet kicked up on the table, as he sipped from his juma juice. His red leather jacket had been discarded, folded neatly on the table while he cooled down. For once, Gatz didn't have another job lined up, and could take a moment to relax. Maybe even daydream about a certain Echani cat burglar who now lived in his head rent free.

Inevitably, though, he'd find himself caught up in the affairs of the galaxy's criminal underworld. Such was the way of things.

@Where

 

[Grace Zann]

The Zann Consortium was not exactly large at the moment. While Grace had managed to cut a deal with the Hutt Cartel, there was still the matter of money. She had promised them a fifteen percent cut of her profits, and the hutts would have her deliver on that promise before long. Thankfully she was an expert when it came to making money, though the credits didn't always come from the nicest of places.

She had been on Tatooine for some time now, scouting out potential business ventures. Thankfully, there was plenty of money to be made. On the edge of town a few days ago, a local jawa scavenger traded her a piece of information for an old datapad. Out in the dune sea and to the south of Tosche Station, was the moisture farm of a water merchant named Zando Zando. Several weeks ago while he was moisture farming, he made a fortunate discovery on his property. Far beneath the sand of his land was a massive unrefined tibanna gas deposit, the best starship fuel in the galaxy.

Obviously, once the merchant discovered this, he begin getting the proper equipment to excavate it all. Now the moisture farmer has a massive stockpile of starship fuel, just waiting to be sold for millions. It was said to be heavily guarded by hired thugs, but that wasn't what worried Grace... The sheer amount of fuel would be hard for her single Skipray Blastboat to move around... What she needed was a smuggler, someone who could help her launder the gas.

This was what brought her back to Mos Espa, after the whole 'almost being killed incident'. She would take a long look around the cantina, looking for any hotshot pilots who fit the bill. Honestly, there were few who fit the description, but one would catch her eye.

Grace would notice Gatz in a booth alone, and take a seat directly across from him in the booth. "Doesn't look like this seat's taken. You've got the looks of a daring pilot I'd bet... The Jacket is usually a dead giveaway." The woman would try to be as casual as possible. There was a chance she was totally wrong, and he wasn't some kind of pilot after all.

@Vicc125

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

"Of all the booths in all the world... and she slides into mine," Gatz took his feet off the table, because it was just polite, "it's not every day a beautiful woman like you deigns to give me the time of day."

Gatz had absolutely no idea what this woman wanted. She didn't look to be the usual fare that hired him. She was too pretty, not enough alien, and she hadn't vaguely threatened to murder him. At least, not yet. She was also dressed in dark robes, that seemed to be a different fashion from the ones most people wore around here. At least, as far as he could tell. Maybe she was just more of a fashionista than most Tatooine settlers.

"As for whether I'm a pilot or not..." Gatz took a sip of his drink, "that depends on the job. And the pay."

Beautiful or not, Gatz wasn't in the business of being swindled, or having his time wasted. Somehow, he didn't think the woman was here to seduce him, so that meant that she had a job that needed doing. Well, his schedule was clear, so he supposed listening to whatever this woman had to say wouldn't hurt. Especially not if it led to another job. Fuel wasn't cheap these days, after all.

"Gatz Derrevar. Captain of The Long March. Why don't you tell me your name, before we start talking about... whatever it is you want to talk about."

@Where

 

[Grace Zann]

Grace was indeed amused by the smooth talking pilot, very few people had the courage to flirt with her. Then again, that was suppose to be a specialty of these flyboy types. Not all could pull it off though.

Of course he would ask about the job and the pay, that was standard. She would however realize that Gatz had very little idea about who she was. Though she was only an up and coming crime lord, she was still a crime lord of sorts... On another note, she found The Long March a funny name for a transport ship. It made the job sound like a real chore.

Figuring the man would either know exactly who she was, or nothing about her, Grace would joke "I'll tell you my name, but you may want to take a big swig of that drink first..." She would smirk before continuing, "My name is Grace Zann... And I run the Zann Consortium." the woman was putting all her cards on the table, but if the smuggler knew who he was dealing with, then maybe he would be more willing to help.

She would place down a holodisk on their booth's table and elaborate, "I'm looking for a smuggler with a fast ship who can transport goods from here to Ryloth... Specifically, drums of tibanna gas. I'm willing to pay you twenty thousand credits now, and another twenty thousand when the job's done... But, if you'd be willing to do a little extra work, I'd double that."

@Vicc125

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Gatz took that swig of his drink, and raised a brow, "I didn't think the Zann were still around. I thought your syndicate had... receded."

Gatz knew his galactic history. The particulars of the Consortium's missions eluded him, but if he recalled correctly, they did a real good job of pissing off Jabba the Hutt. They might have even worked with some Chiss admiral back during the days of the Galactic Empire, but he didn't know for sure. All he really knew was that they were a powerhouse back in the day. Now though? This was the first time he'd ever had contact with the consortium, and he'd been in this life for half a decade.

"Forty thousand total, maybe eighty, just to deliver some tibanna gas? Either you plan to shoot me when this is all over, or you're real desperate."

Gatz knew that value of tibanna gas. Anyone with a ship or a blaster did. Without it, there was no jumping to hyperspace, no firing of a ship's main cannon. Heavy weapon specialists would find their repeating blasters to be nothing more than a chunk of metal without it. But forty to eighty thousand credits, just to get it Ryloth, plus whatever else Grace wanted of him? That wasn't money to scoff at. Most crime bosses he worked for were more likely to cheat him than pay him for what he was worth.

It sounded nice, and that meant it had to be too good to be true.

"What's the catch here? What's this "extra" work you need done?"

This was probably the part where he had to kill a guy to get the gas, right? Eighty thousand credits was a lot of money, but Gatz wasn't a hired gun. He didn't kill for credits. Only in self-defense. So he really hoped that Grace Zann wasn't about to ask him to ventilate a man, because he'd have to refuse on principle, and in doing so lose out on a hell of a payday. Potentially. There was still the possibility of this being some kind of scam, and him ending up with a blaster bolt in his back.

@Where

 

[Grace Zann]

clever as ever, the man quickly realized there would be some trouble involved if he wanted a bigger payday. The tibanna gas was not in her possession currently, as that part still needed to be handled. As he asked about the extra work, Grace would enlighten him "The stock pile is several miles outside of Mos Eisley, and in the possession of a local there. He's hired some thugs to guard the supply until he can find a buyer. I'm not going to ask you to run headfirst into danger with just the clothes on your back and a blaster pistol. I'm not looking for a mercenary on this one, just someone who can act as a getaway driver."

"...Here's where the extra credits comes into play. You can chose to stay here on standby for my call over commlink, or you can drop me off outside the moisture farm and stay until I'm ready to leave. If you do decide to come with me, anything you witness is completely confidential." She would take a long sip of her drink, hoping the man would be willing to take her job. Sure, eighty thousand was a lot of credits, but the millions in tibanna gas that didn't cost her a single credit would easily cover the bill. It was a heist plain and simple, just no heavy duty vaults involved.

The woman would continue, "If you do agree to transporting me, you'll need space for three. Myself, my bodyguard, and my protocol droid." With that, the woman would lay a stack of credit chips down on the table, twenty thousand to be exact. If the man agreed to her additional terms, she would pile on another twenty thousand.

@Vicc125

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

There it was. The catch. She needed to procure the tibanna gas, because it wasn't hers at all. Gatz wasn't surprised: most criminal syndicates dealt in goods they didn't own legally. Grace Zann would hardly be the first person to rob someone blind. Gatz doubted that this would be the worst thing she's ever done, either. Murder was a common occurrence in this life, and it was one Gatz tried to avoid for the sake of his own soul. He didn't want to be like the rest of his ilk. Like Grace, who was about to kill a bunch of men over some greenhouse gases.

Yet, eighty thousand credits was a lot of money. And all he had to do was deliver her to the farm, and then smuggle her and her product to Ryloth.

"It's a damn shame," Gatz sighed as he finished his drink, "I'd hoped to spend tonight in my bed, with a beautiful woman in my arms. Preferably naked. Instead, I guess I'll be helping you liberate your goods."

His ship had more than enough room to accommodate two other living beings and a droid. Hell, Grace and both her companions would fit comfortably in the crew quarters. Not to mention that the cargo hold was currently empty, and therefore perfect for a crime boss who needed a few million credits worth of explosive gas delivered off-world. The Long March was low profile enough to get to Ryloth without any trouble, and even if he turned out to be wrong about that... well, his ship had a few extra tricks up her sleeve if need be. This, theoretically, should be an easy job for him.

"Alright, you have yourself a deal. I'll take you to this moisture farm, hang around, and transport your goods to Ryloth. You'll find my freighter to be more than large enough to accommodate you."

@Where

 

[Grace Zann]

The woman though her offer was a good one, and not something many smugglers would turn down. As Gatz began to speak she would immediately feel like her deal had gone over well. The man would being to lament the fact that he would be missing out on a debaucherous evening. Grace decided to assure him, "Maybe you could have both Captain Gatz, we'll see what the night brings." she would remark back with a smirk.

As the man mentioned his ship did indeed have enough room, Grace decided that was all she needed to here. Nightfall wasn't too long from then, and her crew was more than ready to board the ship. "Very well, let's have a look at our ride then..."

[Transition to where the ship is]

The woman would eye the light freighter up and down, this was exactly the kind of vessel she needed. While she owned a Skipray Blast boat, it couldn't carry nearly a much cargo as this thing. Looking to Gatz, she would give the man an approving nod before saying "We're ready to leave when you are captain, just lead the way."

@Vicc125

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

As much as Gatz wanted to think about Grace's other potential proposition, he had to make good on her first offer. So he'd led her, and her two... companions back to the hanger where his freighter was parked. Once, she had been a scuffed up, barely flying hunk of metal. Now though, after some retrofits and modifications, she was a beautiful cobalt blue work of art, that could outperform any other ship he'd ever been on. Especially when he sat in the pilot's seat, the one place in the galaxy that he truly belonged.

"Right this way, beautiful." Gatz gestured, as the boarding ramp lowered.

He took the lead, walking up the ramp and into the empty cargo bay. He was greeted by an aging astromech, yellow where he should have been white, with only a few hints of green trim remaining of a once nice paint job. R4-A1 was Gatz's oldest friend, and technically his co-pilot. Not that the smuggler let the droid fly his freighter all that often: R4 had a tendency to scrape his ship up. So the quirky droid was often relegated to the role of navigator, and that of monitoring sensors and the like.

Gatz waved his employer down a hall past the cargo bay. There were two doors on the left, that of the crew quarters and the captain's quarters, and two doors on the right: the refresher and the lounge/canteen. The crew quarters held three beds and three footlockers, which he figured would be enough for Grace and her associates. His quarters were far nicer, with a lavish bed of fine silk, the only thing he'd allowed himself to indulge in. It also held an armoire and a weapon rack, as well as a wine rack.

Finally, at the end of the hall, they came upon the cockpit. Two rotating seats sat side by side, separated by a console between them. Gatz sat down in the left chair, the pilot's seat, and spun around to face his employer.

"Alright. Tell me a little bit about this moisture farm. What's around it, where's a safe place to land, you know, those kinds of things."

@Where

 

[Grace Zann]

Grace would make her way on board a grand smuggling ship. Her own vessel was much smaller, so being inside of a freighter was a drastic change. It was an elegant and sleek place by all means, and one she would hopefully see much more of in the future. Her nikto mercenary Havvs and a repurposed B1 battle droid would make their way on board.

The mercenary would take a long look around and give a long whistle, "Woooah... Can we get some sweet digs like this boss? Maybe after we get the credits?" to which Grace would respond, "We'll see how much we can get for the tibanna gas, then we'll see about getting an upgrade."

As she followed the captain around his ship, she would quickly be asked the most important question. Thankfully, she knew the answer due to her jawa informant. "The moisture farm is to the south of a local watering hole called Tosche Station. It's owned by a man named Zando Zando, and it probably has a large storage unit outside surrounded by guards... Like I said, if you can take me in close, you'll get extra."

@Vicc125

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

"Tosche Station it is."

Gatz spun around in his seat, facing the yoke of his ship. His hands began a practiced dance, flipping toggle switches and pressing buttons. The boarding ramp closed, and the engines kicked on with a powerful shudder that could be felt all throughout the ship. A beeping on the console next to him alerted him that the deflector shields were powering up. A low pitched whine that echoed silently down the halls told a similar story for the weaponry The Long March packed. Airlock seals engaged.

He took the yoke in his hands. And finally, his pride and joy released her grip on the earth. Err... sand.

They took to the air, Gatz taking care to fly casual, as they made for low altitude orbit. Mos Espa was practically on the other side of the planet from Mos Eisley, which he knew Tosche Station was somewhat close to. Even so, in a starship capable of faster than light travel... well, Gatz didn't think their trip would take all that long. Long enough, though, for maybe a casual conversation with his employer slash potential paramour.

"So. Your story. What is it?"

@Where

 

[Grace Zann]

Grace would smirk as he asked her about her story. Why did she come to Tatooine? How did she get to her current position? There were many questions that she could address, and all would somewhat answer the initial question posed. It would probably be best for her to leave out the whole 'jedi' part for now...

"I don't think we have time for the whole thing, but I'll give you the shortened version... I was born to a man named Tyser Zann. My father was a horrible businessman who drove our name into the ground, and gambled away all our profits. One day, I decided I was going to fix this mess of a syndicate. I had my father removed from power... Forcefully."

She would raise a hand toward her crew taking a seat in the ship's quarters. "They were all I received when I became head of the company. Now I'm building from the ground up. I own a black market on Ryloth, and sell less than legal tech. I'm sure you'd know a thing or two about less than legal tech." She would give the man a smirk, as she was entirely forthcoming about her past. There was little else that could be told.

@Vicc125

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

"Less than legal is typically what I specialize in, yeah."

The Long March soared through the atmosphere, cutting through it like a knife through butter. Thanks to his recent retrofits, his ship no longer shuttered like a wooden house in a tornado. It was nice, to not need to worry about the hull coming apart during reentry. Or to not worry about the hyperdrive blowing itself out. His ship actually flew properly again, without him jury rigging anything.

"So, essentially, you're starting from scratch? No wonder you're willing to pay me so much. You don't have a regular chain of supply yet, do you?"

It wasn't an insult, or goading. It was a question, but laid out like a simple statement of fact. Grace Zann didn't have much to work with, what with her Zann Consortium only consisting of two people and a droid. Which meant that she needed able bodied scoundrels to work for her, and that in turn meant that Gatz had a new potential employer. If he impressed her with this mission.

@Where

 

[Grace Zann]

Grace would nod her head as Gatz managed to catch on pretty quickly. Some people said smugglers weren't necessairly smart, but they were quite cunning. That was exactly what an organization like her own needed. "Starting from scratch indeed, but I have made some progress. In the last three months, I've managed to hire on several individuals with differing skill sets. On top of that, I own a casino in Mos Espa as of two weeks ago, and the Black Market of Ryloth was established nearly at the beginning of my journey."

She would look out the transparisteel of the vessel and into the sands of the dune sea. They couldn't have been far from the station by now, and the farm itself would be hard to miss. How many moisture farms had hired guards anyhow?

"I don't know how long it will take to become a greater power then the old Zann Consortium... But I'll stop at nothing to make that happen."

As she spoke, Tosche Station would come up on the horizon. It was different than what she remembered, but if they were near the station, then Zando's moisture farm couldn't be too far away.

@Vicc125

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

"Careful. A lot of people who are willing to "do anything" to achieve their goals, end up with a blaster bolt in the back. Draw some lines in the sand. They'll save your life, one day."

Crime was a dangerous business from the get go, but once you started crossing lines, and crossing people, you signed your own death warrant. A smart scoundrel knew where to stop. Greed only ever made the other guy rich. Gatz had seen enough would-be Han Solos, and would-be Jabba the Hutts get iced because they didn't know when to back off a little.

They buzzed by Tosche Station, and Gatz veered his vessel in the direction of the coordinates Grace had given him. The Long March banked easily, as if she were made for deft flying. She wasn't, of course, not as heavy as she was. But in Gatz's capable hands, she purred and responded to his whim. He spotted the farm in the distance, a literal hole in the sand, with a single wide ramp that led downward to the bottom.

"Well Zann, this is your stop, I think you ought to head to the back."

Gatz spun his freighter around, deploying the ramp while still in flight. He let his pride and joy hover at the edge of the property, so that his boarding ramp would line up perfectly with the ramp that led down to the bottom of the structure dug into the ground. He didn't like the idea of exposing his ship's internals to blaster fire, but well, the worst they'd do is carbon score the cargo hold.

"And don't die. We haven't gotten to know each other yet," he winked at the would-be crime lord.

@Where

 

[Grace Zann]

Grace would listen to the smuggler's piece at doing whatever it takes. In a way, his words were wise to the ears of many, but Grace was a woman of vast ambitions. She would give him a nod, "As many do, I have a code. There are some lines I don't cross, but I doubt I'll ever need to."

After a couple moments, it was finally time for her to raid the moisture farm. Both Grace and Havvs would make their way onto the back ramp of the freighter, and as the smuggler winked at her, Grace would wink back. "I won't be long." With that, the pair would hop down onto the sandy surface. Below was a massive moisture farm with multiple buildings in a giant pit. One building stood out however, a large warehouse-like structure in the back corner of the pit. It was surrounded by several heavily armored men wielding heavy blaster rifles.

The woman would also spot another pair of guards some distance away. They were pointing out the large ship that had just come by and were shouting over to the other guards. Thankfully, Grace and Havvs had not been spotted yet, but they needed to be careful.

The woman would take a seat on the edge of the pit, before quietly sliding down into the chasm. Havvs would follow soon after, with a blaster rifle of his own drawn and ready. The pair would manage to take cover behind a moisture collection device, just as a couple guards jogged over to the other group. Usually, them spotting the ship would be a bad thing... But they had grouped themselves up.

Deciding now would be the time to strike, Grace would jump out from behind her hiding spot and use the force to enhance her speed. She would move to the group of men faster than a land speeder before drawing a yellow double-bladed lightsaber. Two swift twirls around the group would be all it took to slice the guards to ribbons.

The exertion caused her to tire quickly however, leaving her breathing heavily as two more guards ran directly toward her. Luckily, From his hiding spot, Havvs would fire several shots from his heavy blaster rifle, peppering the two charging mercenaries. As all the commotion was going on outside, a very concerned man would push open the door of a small home. He was a well-built man with long black hair and wielded a large hypospammer! "You must be Zando." The man would angrily correct her, "IT'S ZANDO ZANDO!"

The brute would charge forward with his makeshift weapon reared back, he would swing directly toward Grace but find his weapon quickly bisected by the lightsaber's blade. "WAH!?" He would exclaim in confusion. Thanks to this momentary laps in judgment, Grace would manage to thrust her lightsaber into the farmer, and end his almost successful existence.

With that out of the way, she would stroll up to the building that was locked down tight. Usually something like this would be a problem, but the woman would thrust her blade into the massive storage unit. Thankfully, she hadn't hit one of the gas canisters with that trick. Following this, she would move the blade in a circular motion which would create a large hole in the warehouse's entrance. Before her was a massive amount of Tibanna gas, all seperated into dozens of canisters. Hauling them up the steep drop off into the moisture farm would be a terrible idea... Instead, she would attempt to contact Gatz via commlink.

"We've secured the goods... Come land in close so we can start loading up."

@Vicc125

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Gatz had never moved his freighter, merely closed the door after his passengers had departed. With his deflector shields up, and the weapons in question being small arms, his ship had never been in any real danger. So when Grace called for him on comms, he merely dropped the loading ramp once more, and sauntered to the back of the ship.

He marched down the ramp with a casual swagger, and tried not to look at all the bodies. He was technically an accessory to murder, not that anyone really cared much on Tatooine, but he still didn't like knowing it. He felt filthy, as he always did when he saw bodies on a mission he was a part of. Like he'd failed these people somehow.

Like he'd delivered their harbinger of death.

There was nothing he could do for them, not now. So, Gatz sighed, averted his eyes, and began to load canisters of gas onto his ship. Even so, he still saw the corpses out of the corner of his eye. Couldn't help but see them, no matter how much he tried. And they were... odd. Some were cut up, but the wounds were... were... cauterized.

Gatz came to a stop, frozen still. A chill ran down his spine. Those were lightsaber wounds, he'd seen similar wounds be made by Emilia, back in that assassin's den. He wasn't sure who had the weapon, Grace or her associate, but... he suspected it was the woman. Dank ferrik he'd gotten himself into some deep bantha poodoo.

"So, what'd they do to deserve this?" Gatz gestured at the mutilated bodies.

@Where

 

[Grace Zann]

Havvs and B-3 were already hard at work getting the cannisters of tibanna gas out from storage. It was then that she would see Gatz himself actually approaching them. She figured he would stay in the ship, and was a little disappointed as he would walk outside to the field of mutilated bodies.

The woman knew the wounds looked like lightsaber blade, no vibroweapon made that kind of carbon scoring. It was clear she owed him an explanation, and though it was true she left out one key detail, the part about having a lightsaber was something she could not deny.

As he questioned her, she would give the man a nod. "If you want the truth, then you should know that big guy over there wasn't just a moisture farmer... Moisture farmers have wives and children who live with them... If you look around then you'll see neither. Zando Zando was a repo guy for a trandoshan crime boss named Sal'rik. The trandoshan tried to have me killed a week ago, but he ended up dead instead."

As she spoke, Havvs and B-3 would already begin loading up the barrels onto the light freighter. Each would push several at once, as they were suspended in the air thanks to repulsor tech.

Grace would unsheathe her lightsaber from a discreet leather hilt on her left side. It was a double-bladed lightsaber pike with a yellow coloration. She would explain, "I know. I gave them those wounds. I'm no jedi, but I'm certainly not sith... When I was young, my father discovered my talents, and had me shipped off to the jedi. Wanted to get me out of his hair... The jedi and I never saw eye to eye. I wanted independence, freedom from codes or duty. That's why I'm here now..."

The droid and mercenary would quickly finish loading up the ship, thanks to the repulsors on each barrel. "Explaining everything to you upfront would have been a challenge, I'm sorry."

@Vicc125