Outpost Odin

--- Part 3 ---

by

FM/COL TK-7764/Chaos 3-2/Wing XIX/SSD Avenger

TYR/KAP TK-7764/Prophecy/Qel-Droma/Arcona

            TK-7764 pulled back on the lever and real space slowly began to rematerialize in front of him.  The hypnotic swirl of hyperspace was replaced by a large, ominous structure before him.  Well, thought TK.  The Intel on Outpost Odin had been four months old.  TK was sort of surprised the station was there at all.  He knew a lot about Intel’s mistakes and failures in the past.  It was much larger the Kane had described it as being.  TK should have no problem blending in here for a few days while waiting for the Lupo Marauders’ representative to show up.  TK-7764 had made sure his ship was given only a fraction of the fuel it could normally hold when he had it prepped on the Avenger.  It would not look very convincing if he dropped by here to rest from his difficult smuggling career if his ship had a full tank of fuel.  Places like this were used to dealing with members of the local authorities posing as shady members of society.  They were quite good at sniffing them out.  TK had one thing they did not have.  He could just wave his hand and convince anybody that he was not a plant.  Now lets just hope that weak-minded idiots run the station.

 

There was quite an impressive display of engineering with the way the station was held together.  Outpost Odin seemed to be a single type one platform.  Connected to each of the five main prongs of the station was a series of long corridors.  A gigantic dome skeleton encompassed the station.  It looked like it was mostly made of containers and old starship hulls.  TK could recognize a carrack cruiser and a few lancer frigates that had been scraped to hold this thing together.  TK noticed a swarm of fighters and small transports coming and going into this station.  Running through the scan log quickly, he was relieved to see that there were no Khargan raiders present.  At least the Intel about them not showing up at this station for a few days was accurate.  TK noticed an old Razorback fighter.  It could have been in a museum.  It was large, with plenty of cargo room, and heavily armed.  TK could see why its pilot would be so hesitant to give her up.  A T-42, a ship that sort of reminded TK of a Z-95, except with proper firepower instead of pathetically weak peashooter guns, flew by on what seemed like an inspection run.  TK noticed a logo on the underside of both wings as it flew overhead.  It seemed like a wire framework of a sphere.  Apparently, that ship was part of the station’s security force.  TK doubted what good that did for the pilot of the T-42.  In this lawless space, anything goes.  Plus, the station was owned by the Hutts, so TK doubted that the “security” forces of the station were any less corrupt then the clients.  Approaching the station slowly, TK asked for clearance to land.  Another vessel, which had apparently arrived out of hyperspace just moments after TK, came behind TK and entered the docking queue.  TK did not recognize that ship’s design at all.  It sort of looked like a Cloakshape fighter.  It was black and its underside was fully stocked with missile launchers and turrets.  TK recognized several turrets that were used by assault transports.  He also recognized what appeared to be four SFS 10.4 lasers, which are only on top of the line Imperial fighters such as the TIE Defender.  Show off, thought TK.  No way any ship’s power core could handle that much juice.  A lot of those weapons were probably just empty shells attached to the ship, designed to intimidate.  He could not even get a ship designation when he scanned it.  All he got was the name, I-ock.  That monstrosity was directed to land at another hanger, and TK slowly let himself down at hanger three.

 

As TK got out, he noticed the difference between this place and the Avenger’s hanger.  It was a lot smaller and seemed a lot dirty.  And still, there was that same odd smell.  Grabbing his things, which were in a large duffle bag behind his seat, and making sure to lock the ship well, TK proceeded down the hallways of Outpost Odin.  TK had trained for years in the Dark Side and even children could sense that he was not a “good” man as he walked past them.  Even so, TK was almost, well, normal when he considered some of the freaks of nature that walked down these hallways.  Creatures whose whole bodies seemed to be nothing but scars and burns eyed TK hungrily.  Perhaps they were jealous that he did not look like crap.  Perhaps they just wanted to do the same to him as somebody else did to them.  TK did not really care.  If they moved on him, they were dead men.  TK made sure not to advert his glaze from anyone.  Everything here was a test.  TK was glad when several of them flinched first.  Yes, TK thought as he looked at his old civilian flightsuit, the clothes do not make the man.  He was still a Krath here as much as he was one on the Avenger.

 

The man who rented him his room was a small Rodian, small even by Rodian standard, named Caldee.  TK reminded himself to get Kane to reimburse him for that.  This was a business trip after all.  His room was a small, hollowed out container.  It had a large rubbery pad as a bed, obviously designed to be used by a variety of species.  Either that or it was all Caldee could find.  Definitely not five star arrangements thought TK.  He always got roped into assignments like this.  It could be worse though, he thought, remembering Smitrock assigning people the job of cleaning the Subjugator’s hull whenever he was in a bad mood.  He remembered having to work as PMan’s XO.  He had to live no more then four feet away from him at all times.

 

TK had a day here to waste before the envoy showed up.  TK should use this time to scout around.  He should get the lay of the land and learn this station inside out.  That way he could make a speedy escape if need be.  TK figured the envoy would have at least a few bodyguards and that he would probably be staying in better accommodations then this, thought TK as he hit his head on a support beam.  TK still had several hours before he could justify going to “bed.”  He uses that term lightly since TK no longer really slept.  He really went into a sort of deep meditation every night for several hours.  It was much more invigorating then sleep.  So, he had several hours to examine this facility, thought TK as he exited his room.  Lets start at the bar then.

 

As TK expected, the cantina was dark and dreary.  There was a lot of soot that seemed to cling to everything here.  Off to one side was the bar, which was perhaps the only thing that looked top of the line.  It was fully stocked.  TK ordered a single Corellian ale, which was probably manufactured on Selonia.  Those walrus aliens really knew what they were doing when it comes to this stuff.  TK looked around and noticed the variety of people here.  Whatever their purpose here was though, he was sure it was of questionable legal nature.  A game of Corellian Gambit Sabacc was going on in one corner.  Several Twi`leks who appeared to be, how should he put it, women of the night, were standing around, hard at work.  The majority of the people here just seemed like they wanted to get plastered.  TK could sense from the amount of aggression in a few of them, that some were here to pick a fight.  A strange lizard like alien with two heads seemed to be busy arguing with himself.  A man off to the side wearing a red tunic was babbling about all the things he had stolen and all the famous people he had been with.  A man in a black cowl stood with his back against the wall, blankly starring ahead.  TK couldn’t make out his face at all, but judging by the fact that he could barely sense him with the Force, he was probably a very disturbing non-human.  TK finished his ale and got up, making sure to tip the bartender well.  Business expenses he thought.  TK walked on over the Sabacc table.  If he lost anything, he might be able to write that off too.  If he gained any credits off of it, well then the Avenger did not need to know what did not hurt it.

 

After catching the Star and Endurance three times in a row, the members at the table were getting sick of this newcomer’s luck.  TK began paying more attention to the weapons his fellow players had on them then on the cards he was getting.  Cheating at this game was hard, even for a Dark Jedi.  A computer randomized the cards after all.  TK supposed the Force was just looking out for him.  Of course, if he wanted to cheat he could just convince everybody at the table that that six of his was a twelve and take the Sabacc pot in one swift move.  Of course, an angry man who feels like he is being cheated will not bet as much.  Better to let them throw in a lot more into the pot and then con them out of it.

 

After a few more rounds and a few more drinks, the Falleen at the table left in disgust.  He needed to save some money for drinks.  Taking his place at the table was the man who had been wearing the black hood.  He did not say a word and placed his bets promptly.  One of the other humanoids at the table began to complain in some strange language about him.  He thought he was messing up his luck.  He also accused the robed man, who was sitting to his left, off looking at his cards a hand later.  The newcomer kept silent.  As the game went on, the pot continued to get larger.  Then TK noticed the hooded man move his wrist very quickly.  It was a very smooth motion and was made when the complainer had been counting his chips.  TK could not be sure because it happened so fast, but he could have sworn that he had put something into the guy’s drink.  TK chuckled silently to himself.  That shows what Kane knows.  He would have fit in fine if he had worn his Krath robes here.

 

Twenty-two.  He had a score of twenty-two.  That was so close to winning that pot.  Yet as any Sabacc player knows, close does not mean anything.  Sure he could probably win the hand if somebody called right now, but at this rate he was still several hours from leaving the game.  TK and several of the other players had agreed not to leave until somebody won the pot.  Whoever did was probably going to be stabbed or shot at as soon as he left the bar, so TK was not exactly in a big hurry to win the pot.  All in all, he was up twenty-five credits for the night.  The pot though was worth around 350, so it was all the difference between a good night and an excellent night to him.  The Ithorian called.  It was no surprise to TK, for he seemed like an aggressive player.  People began to lay down their hands.  It took people several moments to add up each other’s four cards to realize who had won.  TK stopped bothering though once he heard a few of the players moan and curse rather loudly.  The hooded man had negative twenty-three.  He had won the pot. 

 

Now of course the man who had accused him of cheating was really ticked off.  He got up and started ranting and raving.  He was mad that somebody who had not played half the game had won the largest pot of the night.  And of course he was mad that he was down 200 credits.  He started reaching for his blaster.  Unfortunately for him, he was to inebriated to even find his blaster.  His hand kept slipping off his holster and going into his pocket instead.  The hooded slowly reached into his cape.  Assuming a fight was at hand the people at the Sabacc table began to take bets on this instead of the game.  Unfortunately, no one seemed to think that the drunken humanoid would win, so no one took up the bet.  Assuming he would be pulling out a weapon, people were surprised when the hooded figure pulled out what appeared to be a remote.  TK then remembered the thing he had slipped into the man’s drink. Hitting a button on the remote, a loud scream burst forth from the drunk as he fell to the floor in agony.  Along his body coursed a huge electrical current.  Within moments, all that remained was a charred corpse.  The man collected his winnings from the table and walked off.  The smoke that had filled the bar was mixed with a new kind of smoke, one that smelled of death.

… to be continued