The boy walked in silence through the crowd of stone-skinned Nikto, leathery Klatooinians, and spiny Vodran. There were more species in that crowd as well. Somewhere ahead a black-haired Wookiee towered, and nearby walked a handful of grime-encrusted humans as well.
“I’ve never seen such a variety of sentients,” Drex commented as they walked in a clump amidst the flow of the mob.
“Oh?” Mrae snorted. He clearly would have rather been doing something else, and Drex had gotten the feeling that his mother had forced this sojourn on him.
“This is nothing,” Lyaia commented, “some of the bars on the Outer Rim worlds teem with diversity of sentient life. You should see it sometime.”
“I suppose I should,” Drex responded, and then got shouldered out of the way by a dark-skinned Klatooinian who gave him a look whose message did translate across the species barrier. “Hey!” Drex shouted as the individual moved away into the crowd and was lost.
“Let it go dirt-raker,” Mrae warned, growling slightly.
Drex’s face twisted in consternation for a moment, and then he decided taking the Bothan’s advice was advisable. He contented himself by watching the holograms in front of the stores displaying the merchant wares as they past by. There was everything from comlinks to cigarras and more displayed before the stone and steel fronts of the stores. They too had the look of the rest of the city, more utilitarian and over industrialized than aesthetic.
Lyaia looked over at Drex, her expression was a somewhat amused one, or so Drex guessed. “Are you embarrassed easily, Drex?” There was some extreme amusement in her voice.
“Not generally,” Drex said, puzzled, “why?”
Lyaia just chuckled and picked up the pace a bit. Drex turned to see where they were going and stopped dead in his tracks, with his mouth open. Up ahead, partially obscured by the steam above the streets, was a giant hologram of a humanoid female with pink skin and dark brown hair locked in an act of extreme intimacy with a Dug who appeared to be holding her down on something with its four hands while simultaneously engaging in its repetitive and rapid actions. From their expressions both were enjoying the experience immensely.
Lyaia glanced back and stopped her forward movement to double over laughing. Oz beside her was both chuckling and watching the holovid with great interest. Their delay, along with Drex’s, caused Mrae to get significantly ahead of them before realizing he no longer had his charges in tow. The Bothan returned with his fur rippling in agitated patterns.
“Keep moving off-worlders,” Mrae growled. “The faster we get this over with the faster I get to go back to my life.”
“Excuse us for holding up your day,” Lyaia responded, ceasing her laughter. “It was your mother who put you up to this, I know, but you don’t have to take out your irritation on us. Besides, we’re perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves.”
Sensing a problem Drex snapped out of his shock and hurried over. He couldn’t believe that any city would display what this one was out in plain sight. “I think we’d get lost without you though,” Drex said quickly to Mrae. “So lead on, please.”
Mrae growled, and his fur rippled, but he nodded and turned back around to plunge forward. Lyaia gave Drex a strange look he couldn’t read and then followed with Oz in tow.
Drex took one more look at the holovid above the crowd. His eyes followed it down to the store which was projecting it. ‘Nerun Productions Outlet’ was displayed in pink glowing letters above the double transparasteel doors. Beyond those doors rack after rack of datacards with labels such as ‘Slave-trader’ and ‘Cyania, Wet and Unbound’ created a labyrinth of perversion. Drex shuddered, both repelled and disturbingly attracted to the illicit materials. He moved on quickly.
They passed under the giant moaning woman and braying Dug to turn down a side street which was just as crowded and foul-smelling as the last one they’d been on. Mrae appeared to have spotted his destination, for he was heading forward with a determined walk he hadn’t had before. Drex hurried and caught up to the Bothan and the two Duros.
“My mother said you needed clothing,” Mrae said, stopping before a human clothing store. “Here, shop,” he stated and folded his arms.
Drex gave the boy a look, “thanks,” he said somewhat sarcastically and headed forward through the sliding transparasteel door.
Inside was climate controlled and smelled faintly of flowers. There were five circular racks in the center, and racks lining the walls of the small establishment. A changing room was clearly marked in Basic at the back, while the desk and register were near the door and to the left. As a contrast to the outside, the store was well lit with florescent white lights which illuminated the off-white carpet and painted cream-green walls. Holovids of human men and women with overly neat haircuts hovered above the racks in the center.
“Can I help you sir?” a short man with a haircut just like those of the holovids approached from the desk. He was dressed in a neat looking brown jumper with the logo of whatever corporation owned this establishment embossed on the shoulders. He had pale skin, sickly looking as though he never saw the sun, and oiled black hair the same color as his slightly bulging eyes.
“Um,” Drex began shifting in his blue and gray flightsuit. He’d removed the DSA logo patch back at the Urka apartment.
The store clerk caught sight of the two Duros following Drex into the store and frowned. “We don’t cater to non-humans,” he warned.
“Yeah, so?” Lyaia snapped back. Oz stared at the man, his hands in his pockets.
“They’re with me,” Drex said quickly. “I’m the only one you have to serve.”
The clerk made a disgusted look, causing Drex to figure him for a human-supremacist, and then put on a faux smile. “So how can I help you?”
Drex glanced over at Lyaia and Oz, “come to think of it, you can’t.” He nodded to them and began to head for the door.
“Humph!” The clerk snorted, somehow finding some offense in what Drex did. Drex was not unhappy about that.
Lyaia gave the clerk and amused look and followed Drex out. Oz muttered something in Durese that Drex completely missed before following his sister.
“Let’s try a non-human friendly place this time,” Lyaia said snobbishly to Mrae outside.
Mrae gave her a look, glanced at the store clerk through the window, then rippled his fur. “This way,” he sighed as though he’d just been sentenced to the Spice Mines of Kessel for life.
“Grow up,” Lyaia said to the Bothan and set a brisk pace, causing Mrae to catch up to her.
“I suppose you know where you’re going?” Mrae said in a challenging tone.
“No,” Lyaia admitted, “but at least I’m not dragging my feet. If you find us that much of a burden, why don’t you go home? We’ll find our way.”
“Lyaia,” Drex began, but was interrupted as the Bothan and older Duros stopped to yell at each other in accented Basic.
“Is she usually this antagonistic?” Drex asked the younger Ninda beside him.
Oz shrugged and looked on with disinterest. He quickly found a holovid of a new droid model to stare at down the street. Before them, the fight escalated.
“We all have to do things we don’t want to you know!” Lyaia was shouting, “what makes you so special?”
The Bothan’s fur was rippling so fast he looked like a big fuzzy blur. “Because!” He shouted.
“Because what?” Lyaia shouted back, “because you still live with your mommy?!”
“Because my mother is a ranking official with Durgo the Hutt, and she can have you executed if she likes!” Mrae shouted at the top of his lungs.
The air itself seemed to pause.
The press of alien life around them ceased its motion for a moment, long enough to steel a glance in Mrae’s direction, and then resume their bustle as though nothing had happened. The pause was just long enough for Mrae to realize what he’d just done, and his fur began to ripple in a different fashion.
“Durgo?” Oz asked the Bothan in a small voice. It was barely audible over the background noise of the street.
“I,” the Bothan stammered.
“Maybe we should just head back,” Drex offered. He was contemplating what the Bothan had just said. Did Kirdah really work for the Hutts? Would Dietrich have sent him to enlist Hutt aid? Wouldn’t that mean the enslavement of Austeron to the underworld’s masters and not its liberation?
“Ah,” Mrae stuttered, “no, we should get you clothes.”
“Then let’s get to it,” Lyaia interjected. Oz chuckled. Mrae growled in response, but moved forward.
Drex gave the crowd a nervous look before moving on himself. He found there was a hesitation in his step in following the youthful Bothan that hadn’t been there before. He had to believe that Dietrich wouldn’t have sent him into the Mynok’s Den like this. Selling out to the Hutts would be no better than the DSA. The price of victory, at least done this way, would be way too high. And there were also the mysterious Mr. Starbourne and Mr. Dusk to consider. Where did they stand in all of this?