Star Wars Work in Progress

Tam adjusted his headscarf as the approaching ship kicked up the dust and flung it around, making it swirl and whip in the air currents - and choke Tam's already dry and cracking throat if he wasn't careful. Years on the job at his little outpost had shown him the wisdom of simple technology. In this age, he could easily have found a form fitting filter mask that would catch all the feisty dust particles, providing clean, sanitized, cooled and slightly perfumed air to his lungs. But why bother when a three credit scrap of cloth could do the trick? Wrap it in the style of the Jeduk warriors of Wrendal, and it provides protection, filtration, and a menacing look. _Very cost effective, these scarves are,_ thought Tam.

The warriors of Wrendal, those were a group Tam hadn't given much thought to in a while. _I'll have to check up on those pilgrims soon and see if they ever found that... whatever it was those monks were after,"""" "_he thought. With a shake, Tam wrenched himself out of the past. No time to spend to much thought there now, not when there was _trade_ to preform. He watched as the freighter lowered its landing gear, the ship was almost in position now to settle down. He moved to the side of the landing bay to ensure his droids were prepared to move in with their refueling tubes. No need to keep the customer waiting on trivial things like fuel when bigger, more _rewarding_ items were to be... discussed. With a final shudder, the ship - the _Shining Water_ Tam could read now - settled down onto its pads. The automated landing studs bolted into the landing gear, to ensure the ship would stay put and not go careening all over the space dock should a malfunction in the drive power occur. These types of things didn't happen often, quite the opposite, they very rarely happen, but it pays to be sure in these troubled times.

The droids started moving as soon as the freighter had settled. The boarding ramp to the rear of the ship lowered, and two lanky men strode out, laughing at some obscure joke about a droid and a relay bolt. They stopped at the bottom of the ramp, and the one on the left, taller by a good half a meter than his counterpart, gave the elegant and traditional bow of traders galaxy wide. With a wide, toothy grin, he pulled a metal figurine out and offered it to Tam.

"A gift," he said, "from the people of the Antari. By way of greeting they send this, and as a token. My name is Hendel, Yand Hendel. This," he said, gesturing to the short man beside him "is my esteemed friend, the highly talented and sought after pilot, Fwen."

The trader, Hendel, said this all with an elegant swirl of his silver lined, red cape. He brandished his antique walking cane - almost surely for show, since a man of this stature would be able to afford the 2-1B droids which were so skilled at the medical arts - and pointed its polished, silver head at the trinket he offered. "My friends among the Antari assured me that this offering would open the floodgates of this illustrious trading post to my humble meanderings... and purchasing."

"Of course, of course my friends. The _Trading Post_ is at your disposal. If you have any needs while you stay here, let a droid know and we will try and provide you with your needs. The locals like to trade early, and celebrate in the afternoon. The evening is full of shows to entertain weary guest." Tam saw the dust had settled down now, and did not want to present an imposing figure to these traders any longer than was necessary to establish the initial feelings of mild intimidation. He reached up and unwrapped the scarf from his head and let it dangle around his neck while he continued on with the introductions.

"You'll find our housing is clean and refreshing... especially after being cooped up in a ship on a long flight. We have a fine sampling of foods from all across the galaxy, and some of our clothing can only be purchased here, at the _Trading Post_. Truly one of a kind apparel. And now, gentlemen, let me escort you to the main visiting hanger so you can refresh yourself before you brave the crowds of the markets" He added a sly wink at the end, to give an impression of a truly memorial time spent at the markets. Of course, all the businesses were completely legitmate, but there were always cracks, and sometimes profits could be make in between sales. It may technically be considered "smuggling" - and therefore against certain laws the empire attempted to enforce - but there were always those who were willing to take a few risk to earn a greater reward.

Tam turned to move toward the hangar door as the newest trader at the _Trading Post_ was attempting to come up with more courteous banter to fill the void. Having had years of experience dealing with finicky pilots, he could anticipate the impending question about the ship's berthing fees, refueling, space allowance, and the host of other concerns revolving around the docking procedures required to maintain order in a spaceport. Even when the spaceport was relatively small, such as the one at the _Trading Post, _there was always a host of issues to deal with to ensure proper care is taken with the vessels. Tam could tell the pilot of the _Shining Water_ would be no different. He stopped short of the doorway, and turned back to the two men. Pulling a small data pad out of one of the cargo pockets on his trousers, he handed it to the shorter of them.

"This is our docking procedures and listings. You will find all the relevant information you need to direct what servicing you will require during your stay here. The listings include all fees, taxes, duties, space requirements, zoning, and _enhancements_ we are obliged to tender." Tam allowed a slight smile at the pilots eagerness to review what Tam had meant by _enhancements_. He knew well enough that pilots were always eager to modify their transportation, and when someone went through the effort to categorize and list just what was available for acquirement, well, trade did most of the work all by itself. He allowed the pilot, Fwen, to take the datapad, and turned again toward the exit. The trader Hendel was right behind him, but Fwen had obviously already noticed something in the listing that he was examining.

"Fwen, I'll get us set up with the lodging, you stay here and make sure everything is in order with our ship, eh?" said Hendel. Fwen distractedly glanced up and gave a thumbs up as he maneuvered back toward the ship.

"So," said Hendel with a sweeping gesture of his arms, "let me see the grand furnishings of this post. Fwen is drooling over whatever was on that list of yours, so I'm sure I'm going to loose a few credits to him before we leave. I want to I can actually make a productive run from this area though. I'm sure you understand. The sooner I can start an assessment of what this place truly has to offer, or has need of, the sooner we can open talks on the trade." Hendel actually had no desire to make a stop at this grimy little outpost, but Fwen was obsessively insistent for some reason. _Well, from the look on his face when he got a hold of that data pad, he probably set me up to come here just so he can get his hands on some new toy to put in that ship_. _Tricky bugger._

"Of course, Mr. Hendel. Right this way please. It's only a short trip to the main hotel of the area. Hotel Detren the locals call it. I'm sure you'll be comfortable there. It's in the middle of the bazaar as well, so it will be easier for you to make your assessments." Tam stepped onto the moving walkway and leaned on the railing as it whisked him toward the center of the outpost. This walkway was the pride of the locals. They had been trying for years to get the council to approve funding for it, only to be denied time and time again. Tam did not see why they continued to press the matter, but press they did. Eventually, they abandoned the council and started to collect a small tax off everything they sold at the _Trade Post_. To an outsider, it may have seemed a small sum collected, but when the illicit goods were factored into the equation, the funds sky-rocketed. They paid some reputable contractors from the core to come out and install the moving walkway in the outpost, and they paid a pretty hefty amount to have to work completed too. But in the end, the project was accomplished with no help from the local government, much less the galactic representatives. The local inhabitants were rightfully proud of this achievement, and encouraged all the incoming traders to utilize the walkway system. Tam pointed out some of the finer details of the story to Hendel as they moved along toward the hotel.

Hendel, for his part, gave gracious nods and grunts of agreement at the system. Tam was sure he did not have any care in particular for it, but the moving walkway was a way to fill the silent void during the trip. Small talk encouraged familiarity, and familiarity encouraged trade. At last they arrived at the Hotel Detren, and Tam stepped off the walkway and guided Hendel into the lobby.

"Here is where I part compony with you, Mr. Hendel. The clerk will further assist you with your housing requirements. I mainly stay around the spaceport, but if you have any issues you need help with, don't hesitate to call my comlink." Tam gave his comlink freq to Hendel, and walked out into the courtyard to find visit some merchants selling food. Tam had an interesting relationship with many of the merchants. In exchange for Tam recommending a merchants establishment, he would receive complimentary goods. Meals, fuel, parts, Tam had acquired an extensive collection of hand carved stone figurines over the years through this type of deal. A trader to the end, just as generations of his family had been before him.

Hendel walked to the reception desk, glancing at the evidence of wealth all around him. The locals must have placed all their combined wealth in this one building, in an effort to convince travelers that they were not just another backwater planet on the outer rim of the galaxy. Hendel had been to far too many worlds in his time of traveling to be fooled by such shows. A vase, carved from some obscure red wood, with intricate carvings depicting an ancient hunter stalking his prey just did not fit with the elegant crystal chronometer ticking away on the desk next to it. Whoever had decorated this room lacked the sophistication of taste needed to imply _actual_ wealth. Still, the room might fool most traders, the types who only saw credits and lacked the refined taste of their clientèle. Those types would probably gawk at the treasures heaped in the room, almost haphazardly it seemed to Hendel. He had to give the locals credit for trying though. If nothing else, the display of wealth showed that they actually did have something worth dealing in, or else they wouldn't have had the flashy items to show off here to begin with. _This might actually turn out to be a good trip for me_.

"Will you need any gear transported from you ship to your room here?" asked the lobby clerk.

"No, thank you. My partner will bring up the necessary gear when he finished tinkering around with... whatever it he does while I'm away." Hendel didn't actually know what all the pilot did with all the time he spent on board that ship. But the pilot did good work, and the ship always preformed when it needed too. Because the Fwen was so good, Hendel had offered him a share of his business. They worked well together, and since Fwen technically owned part of the Shining Water, he started to work even harder to transform the ship into a truly fine vessel. He had modified almost every system and subsystem he could find inside the sometimes cramped areas aboard the ship. Granted, with no real source of income other than what Hendel offered, Fwen usually did not pay for the parts he used – that came out of Hendel's pocket – he nonetheless took excellent care of the old bird.

"If you could relay instructions on how to get to this building to my ships computer I would be most grateful. I'm afraid my sense of direction leaves quite a bit to be desired, and my pilot has no idea where I am right now." Hendel gave a credit chip to the clerk with a smile and took the card the young local offered.

"Of course, sir. If you require anything else, please feel free to use the in-house intercom. It's fairly primitive, especially considering what you're probably used to, but it's a point of pride among my people. Primitive as it is, it took a lot of work to get it installed properly."

The clerk obviously was proud of this place. Hendel looked around to try and see what this intercom was, but drew a blank. Seeing the mild confusion in Hendel's face, the clerk reached down behind the desk and picked up a large, bulky comlink. At least Hendel thought it was a comlink, until he saw a large dial, and wires protruding from the back of the box. The clerk detached part of the box simply by lifting on it. The smaller box was attacked to the larger by more wires, and was a sort of curved shape. It looked very old, though Hendel would not be able to say for sure until he had a chance to properly look it over.

"It works on old style analog signals passed through the wires. It's an old form of technology, but it works efficiently enough. The signal is converted with a pulse code modulation inside this box here," he said, pointing at the large of the boxes. "From there, it's sent to an automated switching board in the basement of the building. Depending on what sequence of symbols you use, you will be connected with another room in the building." While he said that, the clerk placed his finger on a symbol which resembled a circle with a line running through it's diameter, and dragged it in a small circle before releasing it. It rotated back to its original position with several ticks, and stopped.

"By just using this symbol, you will be connected with me here at the front desk. There is one of these devices in every room, with a listing on the datapad uplink that will provide you with the symbol sequence to the various rooms."

"Fascinating, I'll be sure and inspect this device. Thank you for your help. I'll just go and unpack in my room now." With that, Hendel moved toward the stairway and (to be continued)

4


End file.
