Crates of foodstuffs were piled on top of the new generator and mounted on a loading skiff that was as tall as it was wide. Towering four meters, it took Osha and Thembe working on both sides to move it.

"Isn't there a freight droid available to do this?" Osha grunted.

"If it costs credits and can be done by manual labor, the good Lady Khattarine is not inclined to put up the money for it." He looked around the corner of the stacked crates. Sweat streaked down from his temples. "Need a break?"

"No, I'm good." Osha put her shoulder against the skiff and kept pushing. "On second thought, hold on." She knelt down to examine the tracks. "Do you have a hydrospanner on you?"

Thembe came around the corner to hand her one from his pants.

Tapping into an access panel, Osha winced at the sour stench of old grease. Clearly the starport took no pride in maintaining their equipment. She found a faulty rotor screw, tightened it, and gave the platform a push. "I bet the other ambulatory rotors are loose. Give me a second."

"You're pretty handy. Glad Lady Khattarine's not hear to see it. She'd feed me to the Hutts and hire you."

"Like your predecessor?"

"Don't let her fool you, Mae. That old bird is as ruthless as they come. Who do you think sent that man to Tatooine to place that bet? She did. Knowing full well his cargo might spoil." He sighed, exhaling air from his puffed cheeks. "The Hutts should have put her down, not him."

"That's insane," Osha said, fixing the final screw.

Thembe gave the skiff a push. It moved easily with only the slightest adjustment needed to direct it. "Don't tell me you can pilot a ship, too?"

"I can," Osha said with a grin. She handed the hydrospanner back to him. "But I'm not as good as you, and I know nothing about the smuggling backroads."

"How'd you get so handy?" Thembe got behind the skiff and pushed it along.

"I spent some time as a meknek. I can fix just about anything." Osha got beside the loader and helped to guide it from the side.

"A meknek?!" Thembe slapped his thigh. "Uldyr! I knew I saw something a little feral in your eyes!"

"How long have you been with her? Lady Khattarine?" With the skiff working, they made their way through the crowded port. "She doesn't treat you very well."

"Been at the helm of the Maelstruss for about a month now. And that's how most Corellians treat Socorrans. Ever since they landed on Socorro and colonized the planet. Tell me how you colonize a planet when there are people already living there?" Thembe rolled his eyes and shook his head in dismay. "We've spent the last thousand years teaching them how to survive."

"Maelstruss? Is that Socorran?"

"It is. The good lady thinks she's being culturally aware using the name of one of our Judges."

"Judges?" Osha watched a technician walk by her carrying a PIP droid. She yearned for the one she had lost, hoping Mae would care for him as she had.

"Desert entities sacred to my people. There are four of them—all women. The Judges of the Dead watch over the living and help the dead find peace. Maelstruss is the patron guardian of smugglers and pirates."

"Before we left, Lady Khattarine said a word to you—uukei." Osha felt herself getting breathless. Though the skiff moved better, the weight was still there and required an effort to move. "What does it mean?"

Thembe chuckled. "The Lady was making it very clear that I was responsible for anything that happened to you."

"And if something did happen to me?"

"I'd pay with my life. Uukei means irreplaceable."

With the Exile II in sight, Osha guided them toward the cargo ship's lowered ramp. "If she treats you so terribly, why do you stay?"

"She may be a miserable emwhulb to work for, but she pays well. And there are perks wherever we go. The Hutts treat her like a Queen! Even the Munns roll out the welcome carpet, and they hate everyone. Unless you're rich." He pushed the skiff to the edge of the ramp. "As for why I stay, it's because I know if I keep my head down, my mouth shut, and stay off the Republic's Billboards, I'll soon earn enough to buy my own ship."

"Republic Billboards?"

"The Most Wanted List. I'm trying to keep a price off my head." Thembe chuckled, taking a moment to catch his breath. "At least until I'm worth some real credits, and there are enough stories to have songs written about me." He checked the skiff's position and studied the angle of the ramp. "What do you want? Top or bottom?"

Osha heard him, but did not answer or move. A trio of Jedi dressed in their mission robes were walking in their direction.

"Mae?" Thembe said.

"Top," she whispered and scurried along the far side of the crates to hide in the shadows.

As Thembe pushed from below, she pulled at the loader, dragging the skiff into the Exile II's cargo bay. Hidden behind the freight, she watched as the Jedi passed, making herself and her presence in the Force very small, so minute that they would not notice her.

Thembe met her at the top of access ramp and gave the loader a final push into the hold. "I see you have no love for ke'dem. Or, you've already made the billboards in Mos Eisley, and you're avoiding them to avoid arrest. I'm jealous." He grinned, crossing his arms as he leaned again the bulkhead wall. "I'm not a fan of them either."

Waiting until the trio had long passed from view, Osha asked, "What do you have against the Jedi?"

"I remember they came to Socorro a while back. I was just a babe. Something about the right to test potential children for the Order. They never got out of the starport. The Bronwen summoned a sandstorm that nearly buried Soco-Jarel."

"The Bronwen?"

"Men and women and others who serve the Judges, looking out for people who get stranded in the desert or those who lose their way." Thembe cocked his head to the side and smiled. "If you need a place to lay low. It's Socorro. Not even bounty hunters go there. The taxes and body counts are too high."

"That's good to know," a soft voice said, startling them.

"Master?" Osha whispered.

Thembe, who had dropped into a defensive posture, straightened up, his hand on his blaster. The leather restraint over the holster was snapped back and the heel of the weapon was pressed into the palm of his hand. He relaxed as the Stranger came from around the skiff. "I can get this strapped down for you—"

"We can handle it." The Stranger continued up the ramp, walking toward the Socorran. "I've spent my share of time with the Hutts, gunrunning, spice peddling, even hitting a few Republic supply lines. I know the best intel doesn't come from Corellian smugglers or their handlers. It usually comes from well-informed Socorrans." He held out a credit chit, which Thembe slowly reached for and took. "I know the information I needed didn't just come from Khattarine. It came from you."

Thembe's eyes widened as he checked the numbers on the chit. "I...can't accept this," he said, his voice raspy and uncertain. "It's too much. And for what? A bit of gossip from loose lips at the sabacc table." He attempted to return the chit. "There's enough credits here to buy a ship."

"Keep it,"the Stranger said.

Osha felt the subtle undertones of suggestion in the Stranger's voice, but it was meant to soothe the pirate, not manipulate him. "Thanks to you, I have everything I need. Ship registrations. Transponder codes. Reconnaissance waypoints." He looked at Osha. "I'd like for this to be the last time I need to call on Lady Khattarine. I'd rather call on you."

"There's a cantina at the Soco-Jarel port, the Black Dust Tavern. Ask for Malin Ancher, my guild sponsor. He owns the place. Mention my name, and if he can't help you, he'll know where to find me." Thembe turned to Osha and bowed his head deeply. "May the Maelstruss, Lady of the Storm and Wind, grant you safe passage. May your judgement be swift and just, and when it is your time, may you be welcomed by the Judge of Ash and Sand." He bowed again to the Stranger. "Doaba ol'val tru." Strapping his blaster back securely into its holster, he descended down the ramp and disappeared into the docking bay.