Dodging Glances From the Walls, Attn: Maris Kala'myr, Mercury Flux

"It's fine; even if this planet isn't under Confederate control we can't just let criminals kill someone in front of us."

That had been Daniel's opinion too, but then he'd been a bit biased. Had their roles been reversed, he liked to think that he would have made an attempt to help out Mercury and Maris. However, that didn't mean that he would have. He was not ignorant to the fact that he was very much a coward when it came to . . . a lot of things, really. Death was one of the big terrors that he had to struggle with on a daily basis and had jumping in to save the Confederates endangered him, he wasn't sure if he would have intervened. There was no way to tell considering that the circumstances had not been thus. It hadn't been his two allies in trouble, but he himself. They were far braver and stronger than the wimpy man was and it shouldn't have surprised him that they'd stepped in to save him. That was what the government and military was for--to defend and protect the weak who could not help themselves. At least, that's what they were supposed to be for.

It had been his experience, though, that people tended to look out for their own interests these days. Even those who claimed to be working for some greater good, like the Confederation. With this war going on, it was the unknowns like Daniel who slipped through the cracks, got lost amidst the throngs of the suffering. He was just one out of millions of denizens trying to scrape out a living. Why would anyone ever pay attention to him or his problems when there were so many other, larger problems to deal with? It was illogical to think that the Confederation could control everyone and everything and keep things running smoothly when they had to contend with the Alliance every day. Daniel could respect and admire the Alliance cause but, at the same time, he couldn't help but wonder if they were contributing to the troubles that were running rampant throughout the Galaxy today. Without this war, the government would be able to dedicate its time and efforts to more practical needs--such as taking care of its citizens. And maybe then there wouldn't be so many criminals like him who only committed crimes because they had to to survive.

Then again, maybe it was just hopeful thinking on his part. Despite having it nearly beaten out of him, Daniel remained something of an optimist. Things were already horrible, they couldn't get much worse, right? Once you'd hit the ground, the only way to go was up. Unless you had a shovel, he guessed, then you could dig down deeper. But eventually you'd hit the core of the planet and wouldn't be able to go anywhere . . . wait. Unless you somehow managed to keep going, then you'd no longer be going down but up. Technically. So . . . following that logic, no matter how far down you went, you'd eventually have nowhere to go but back up. Yes, his analogy still applied then. Bad always had to go back to good, or at least return to equilibrium. In the end, physics seemed to guarantee a correction of events. That was comforting, sort of.

"But don't you ever want to stand up for yourself? It just seems like a bit of a haphazard life, to be running all the time."

He blinked, seeming confused by the question. Which he was. "Stand up for myself?" he repeated, as if it was a foreign idea altogether. Which it sort of was. "I don't know," he admitted, bringing the cloth full of ice down to stare at it instead of looking at Mercury. "Sometimes, I do. But . . . I really don't like conflict. At all, really. I can't say that I like running all the time, but the alternative . . . it's not that nice. And they say stick with what you're good at, right? I'm good at computers and running." It sounded really sad when he put it that way, but it was no less true.

Thinking about his nomadic lifestyle upset him, though. It made him miss home that much more. The slicer would have loved nothing more than to return to Etti IV and reunite with his parents, settle down and get some sort of legitimate job, maybe even start a family of his own. He was in his late thirties for Force sake, isn't that what men his age did? A stable, safe life was appealing to Daniel but, at the same time, he wasn't sure if that was what he wanted just yet. Challenges of an intellectual kind were exciting, and was what had originally set him on the path that he was still traveling on. A genius just wasn't content to sit around and waste the gift that he was given. A boring office job didn't seem like something that would ever really suit Daniel, and who was going to hire a convicted felon anyway? And just like that, such dreams of normalcy dissipated again.

". . . Then again, I have to kill people, which isn't what I want to do. But I can't seem to do the former without the latter."

Mercury seemed saddened by this reality which was enough to convince Daniel that he meant what he said. That was reassuring, it meant that he wouldn't kill him without good cause. And the slicer was certain that he would not give him such a reason. "Sometimes good people have to do bad things," Daniel told him, feeling as though the man needed some reassuring or cheering up. He'd helped patch Daniel up, the least he could do in return was make him feel better. "I'm sure you're doing the best you can. You're just trying to make the Galaxy a better place for everyone, right?" Why he could suddenly find himself sympathetic with a Confederate soldier was beyond him, but Daniel found that he and Mercury seemed to be kindred spirits of a sort. Both had to deal with difficult things on a daily basis, and neither were particularly happy with taking lives. They were good guys, the criminal and the Confederate despite their occupations.

"What about you? There must be a bad side to being a slicer, right?"

"Oh, uh, well . . . I never really thought about it, actually," he admitted sheepishly, looking to the bag that housed his personalised computer. "I've been doing this for so long, since I was pretty young in fact. Decades, at least. I'm good at it and it's good pay, usually. But it's not the safest line of work, heh. Pretty easy to make enemies and lose friends. Family, too." A dark expression flitted past his features before fading away back into his normal expression. "I don't just work as a slicer, though. Sometimes I help people with setting up their security systems or fix their computers and things like that. I guess I just like to balance out the bad with some good. You know?"

"[ . . . ] I'm good at computers and running."

It was a bit sad to think that Daniel, in all his time working the criminal circuit -- which considering his age was a decent span -- had simply ran from everything and everyone. At times sure, fleeing from a problem was sometimes the best action to case, but still . . . Even Mercury didn't find the prospect of running from people the rest of his life appealing. How had this man ever made friends with anyone if he was leaving them all the time? Any kind of relationship with someone else required prolonged exposure, generally. It must have been exciting, darting around the galaxy and meeting all these new people but it can't have created any lasting friendships, surely? The idea that the slicer's closest friend was the little Gizka now slumbering under the bed was slightly upsetting; as lovely as pets were, they didn't compensate for actual people. Eloise may have been someone who had been through plenty of experiences with Daniel, but in the end she was still an animal. Their relationship probably developed from the creatures need for food and shelter, which Daniel provided. How much weight could you really put to their friendship? There were plenty of people willing to spark up friendly relations in the galaxy, believe it or not. All that was required was a little time and compatibility.

"Is there no one that you know who could help you out sometimes?"

Even if it wasn't a friend, per se, Mercury was curious to know whether the slicer had any kind of help should things turn nasty. It could be someone capable of fending people off who just sees a mutual benefit in keeping Daniel alive -- as was how most criminals tended to work. Perhaps the slicer paid through money or his services, however was easiest, but Thumper wondered whether there was anyone around for the little man. At the moment he seemed stranded, like he was in the middle of a great ocean, and unfortunately Daniel seemed to only navigate the most treacherous waters. They were full of rocks, ready to smash his little vessel apart, with crashing waves taking control of his direction and speed. He just seemed to drift whichever way he was thrown, with no anchor or sail.

"[ . . . ] You're just trying to make the Galaxy a better place for everyone, right?"

Mercury knew that though; that had been a big reason why he'd joined the Confederation in the first place. The Lorrdian wanted to bring about changes, and what better way than to work his way up into a position of authority where he could do that? Unbeknownst to many he had big ambitions that he was keen to achieve. At every stage of his career he'd been trying to instill a little bit of good in everyone he met, if the opportunity arose. The Renegade pilots, as they came in, would be taught the way things worked, told to keep their noses clean and to embrace the friendship rife within the squadron. They'd created a wonderful atmosphere, and hopefully, as pilots were transferred or rose through the ranks they would take this atmosphere elsewhere. Gradually, with time, it would wash through the Confederation and in a small way improve it.

"Right," he replied with an appreciative smile.

It was much preferable to the violent approach of the rebels, who in their desperation to bring about change were bringing about the deaths of millions at the same time. From what Thumper could see, they hated certain figureheads in the Confederation and fought against them, but in the end it was the lowly soldiers that paid the price for their hatred. It seemed that once the Confederation uniform was donned the rebels condemned you to death, saw you as an evil figure in the Confederate machine, something less than human. Such thoughts just irritated the Lorrdian though; he didn't like thinking about the ongoing conflict with the rebels because it was one that he was unable to change. How could you negotiate with people who were so dogged in their attempts to kill you? It seemed whatever he tried to say would fall on death ears because of that "cause" of theirs -- whatever that was, anyway. They were like brainwashed robots set to kill, and it was saddening to say, but it frustrated Mercury to the point where he began to see them as such. The humanity disappeared through the anger, the agitation at ignorance and stubbornness.

"[ . . . ] I guess I just like to balance out the bad with some good. You know?"

Hearing that Daniel was contracted to set up security systems drew raised eyebrows from the Lorrdian. It seemed strange that someone would ever hire a criminal to set up a security system of all things. Surely that came with all sorts of troubles? Daniel could easily sell the system details to someone else to gain a bit more money, or hack them himself. Granted, Mercury now knew that the slicer was a good man, but these contractors must have been unaware -- especially of his criminal past -- for such employment to occur. Still, if Daniel was trying for a better life sometimes such details would need to be left out. Eventually people would believe him, with enough good lawful work under his belt, and then things would get easier. If he kept it up long enough more opportunities would come, and with them a better life. There would be no more running from thugs, no more dealing with dangerous individuals, and a steady income if he got the right kind of job. Lorrd, there was always the Confederation if all else failed. If he was as talented as he said he was, Daniel would have no problem convincing the government to hire him.

"I don't suppose you helped set up the Hutt's security system?" the Lorrdian grinned, knowing full well that would be too perfect. Running into the slicer who had created the thing, by sheer chance, seemed like a long-shot.

"Is there no one that you know who could help you out sometimes?"

Shifting on the bed, Daniel's discomfort was made apparent. It was an innocent enough question, but had the unfortunate side effect of making the lonely man realise just how isolated he was in the Galaxy. He thought for a few moments, hoping that there was someone out there that was willing to lend him a hand when he needed it. Brin flashed into his mind. Yes, she was his friend. One of his only real friends. She seemed to care about him when everyone else just wanted to use him as a means to their own ends. Daniel liked Brin. A lot. It made him sad that they couldn't spend much time together considering how busy she was helping out the Alliance; if she ever wanted to meet up, just to hang out or anything, he'd be there in a heartbeat. Criminal by occupation though he might be, he wasn't one to ignore or be ungrateful to what few friends he did have. Aside from Brin, there was really no one. That was kind of upsetting. But, as he was finding out, reality rarely was anything but.

"There's one person," he said after a pregnant pause. "But she's really busy. I try not to bother her. Her job's really important, you know? I think she'd help me out if I needed it. I mean, I know she would." Brin was a good woman. He was sure she'd help out a stranger if they were in need of assistance. Boy, he missed her. He hadn't realised it until now, but he did. She was one of the few people that didn't seem to mind having him around even with his awkward nature and consistent rambling. Really, that's all that Daniel wanted--to be wanted, or at least not be minded all that much. He knew he wasn't perfect--far from it--but friendship was about acceptance, wasn't it? "But other than her . . . I can't really think of anyone else. Usually, I just take care of myself. I don't really like dragging other people into my problems if I can help it . . . though, like tonight, sometimes I guess it just can't be helped."

"Right."

He smiled in response to Mercury's smile. This was an occasion to be documented--Daniel had done something right! He'd said something that hadn't baffled, but had reassured. Mercury had been responsive to his sympathies and it made him feel good, like maybe he wasn't completely alien when compared to others! It was a small step in the right direction, but a step nonetheless. This was turning out to be quite the educational experience; he was learning about the Confederation and also learning how to better interact with people. It helped that the dark-skinned man was receptive to him, willing to converse with him. Most people weren't. Maris had been too. She was just as nice, even if there seemed to be something a little . . . off-putting about her. They were both good people, and Daniel believed that those were the people that he seemed to get along the best with. They were usually more tolerant of his eccentricities than most.

"I don't suppose you helped set up the Hutt's security system?"

There was a blank expression on the slicer's face for a few moments as he debated whether or not to confess as to how much he knew about the Hutt. It could lead to questions as to how he knew about it. Honesty had proven itself to be the best policy thus far, and the Confederate had a right to know what his hired help had done in the past. "Uh, well, actually. About that. I didn't exactly set up his security system, but . . . I might be familiar with it." It wasn't his fault really. He got bored, and he got curious. And since he was working for the Hutt at the time, it hadn't hurt him to check out just what sort of systems that it had going. "I might have even, uh, improved it. A little. At the time." It was either do that or get thrown to the Hutt's voracious Vornskrs once he'd gotten caught snooping around the system. He was more careful now, oh so very cautious. Much more professional, much more prepared, much more skilled. "Using my prior knowledge, I shouldn't have too much difficulty doing what you want me to."

But he was getting more and more tired by the second now. With it being as exhausting a day as it'd been, Daniel kind of just wanted to go to sleep now. He would have had it not been deemed rude. He was enjoying his conversation with Mercury but at the same time--sleep. He needed it so bad. He was running on reserves here. Still, he sat upright and tried to look as attentive as he could so as not to offend his new friend. Because that was what Mercury was sort of becoming--a friend. At the very least, Daniel felt that he could speak with him without risking the man throwing something at his head to shut him up. You might not think something like that would happen, but then lots of things had happened to the twitchy man over the years. And not all of them all that pleasant . . .

”[ . . . ] I mean, I know she would."

It seemed strange to the Lorrdian that Daniel didn’t count his possible death as something important enough to contact his friend about. If they truly were a friend, then surely they were willing to help him out for something so serious. Really, if they were his friend, even lesser things than likely death at the hands of vicious Devaronians should draw them to help the twitchy slicer. That was what friends did; anything for one another, because wasn’t friendship one of the greatest connections the galaxy had to offer? Friendships were unique and strange; there was no advantage or gain to having them, and although they didn’t figure greater than some relationships, friendship was one that always stood the test of time. It was one that people could rely on to never get rocky, to be a stable foundation for them to thrust out in to the galaxy and do what they wanted to do, achieve the dreams they wanted to achieve. Perhaps the pilot but far too much on them though, perhaps it was just him who viewed them this way. To the Lorrdian there was nothing better than such relationships. To a certain extent, he lived purely to create them and maintain them. They were his goal, and as such they drove him to protection. If he could make life even a little bit easier then he’d have taken a step in the right direction.

”[ . . . ] I don't really like dragging other people into my problems if I can help it . . . though, like tonight, sometimes I guess it just can't be helped."

Daniel was beginning to sound pathetic, but the Confederate didn’t give him the usual scornful look as if he were being a pest -- one he often saw colleagues give. It just made him wish there was something he could do for the man. Even the fact that he’d helped get rid of the problem didn’t seem enough, as ludicrous as that was. The pair barely knew each other, even less so when said incident occurred, and it was probably above and beyond his duty to protect a civilian on an independent world, Confederate or not. But like ever that was just a short term solution to a long term problem. Daniel didn’t work in the most legitimate business in the world; slicing rarely followed the rules of the government. There would be more like the Devaronian, having crossed paths with the slicer and keen to take advantage of him. They’d be just as ruthless, with just as many numbers, but the next time there would unlikely be someone around willing to help out. Not because people were bad, but because in a galaxy as harsh as the one they lived in survival often meant picking your battles wisely. If someone could avoid trouble at the expense of another, unfortunately that would be the likely course of action. But what could Mercury actually do? He was tied up with his profession, and it was one that was impossible to escape from on a whim.

”[ . . . ] Using my prior knowledge, I shouldn't have too much difficulty doing what you want me to."

Surprisingly the fact Daniel had upgraded the Hutt’s systems didn’t bother the pilot all that much. Hopefully, since he’d been the one to fit the new parts of the system he’d also be able to remove them, or by pass them, whatever these slicers did. If anything, it was probably a blessing to have someone so knowledgeable about the computers they would be working with. There would likely be far less problems on Daniel’s end because of it, and that would increase productivity and as a result make the entire mission run far more smoothly. In fact, this was quite the stroke of luck they’d had. A thoughtful expression crossed the Lorrdian’s dark features, one that was slightly amused at the turn of events. Certainly, helping out the Hutt in security matters wasn’t something that Mercury approved of, but the pilot couldn’t deny that in the end it had turned out to help much more than it damaged. With the completion of their mission this particular Hutt would be shut down, his business choked until it lay dead on the floor, and with it all the terrible things that the crime lord did. Not just that but it would give them a lead on the Alliance, a lead that could bring about greater things. If they could cause just a little bit of damage to the terrorists then they could hinder them, and with each stall more lives were saved from their savage methods.

News constantly filtered through the Confederation of recent attacks; rumours were never squashed entirely by the strict disciplinarians. Thumper had listened to terrible stories from survivors, or witnesses to the scene of havoc created. He’d heard of men being cut down without a seconds thought, their bodies chopped up like some horrific show of malice. There were even times he’d seen the after effects first hand; bodies piled upon one another as soldiers were struck down without any sign of mercy or even humane intentions. It didn’t seem to matter who you were once the uniform was donned, not to the terrorists, the so called “freedom fighters”. Savage tactics were employed to detonate, shoot or cut their way through men and women merely serving their government. But then they seemed like nothing more than anonymous faces to the rebels, existences that were extinguished without any remorse. The killing kept coming, more lives kept being lost in the name of “freedom”, but was it worth the price, the price of their humanity? The thoughts just brought him down, and that was not somewhere he needed to be right now. There were so many issues, but nothing could be done presently. Thumper would work to the best of his abilities in aid of bringing peace back to the galaxy, and then perhaps people like Daniel would be able to go without being hunted down like animals by the harsher side of the criminal underworld.

The weary look on Daniel’s face was easily noticeable, just as his posture showed high levels of fatigue. It was understandable, considering what the man had gone through earlier that day. They all needed to get some rest, but Mercury couldn’t help but feel anxious at the fact Maris had still not returned. Had he any idea where she’d gone the pilot would have gone after her, tried to track her down and made sure that she was still safe. Even if she’d shown she was capable of looking after herself, there was always a chance something had happened, especially in their current circumstances. If had been captured then the mission was in serious trouble. If she’d disappeared the mission was in serious trouble. It was like a balancing act and Thumper was unable to continue it alone. If Maris didn’t turn up then calls would need to be made, and extra precautions carried through with. Lorrd knows what could happen if they were found out.

”You should get some rest; we have a long day tomorrow,” Mercury said in a friendly manner, getting to his feet and packing the medipac back in his bag. There was no point both of them sitting up waiting for Maris, after all. In the end, she was Thumper’s partner, and so her safety was his responsibility, just as Daniel’s had become now that the slicer had joined them. ”I’ll stay up and let Maris in when she gets back.”

Although there were plenty of terrible thoughts running through the Lorrdian’s mind as to what could have happened to the woman, he tried to stay positive. There was no point in worrying Daniel; he had plenty of pressure on his shoulders without more troubles being placed upon them. They’d need him to be alert tomorrow, because there were sure to be plenty of blaster bolts flooding the space around them. One wrong move and you could be dead, there were no second chances. The body needed to be in top condition to ensure success, and rest was a big part of that. Exiting into the kitchen Mercury poured himself a drink of water, keen to rehydrate, though it was mostly just to keep himself busy. Maris would be back any moment, he was sure of it. There was a completely innocent reason to her taking so long. There was nothing to worry about.

It would be another few hours before Maris returned to Davies' residence. It had not occurred to the droid that Mercury or Daniel would be concerned for her wellbeing. She had assured them of her capabilities and she was in no danger. Thoughts to the contrary never registered within her analytical mind. With the unfortunate business of the night before taken care of, Maris began preparations for the next day. While she possessed the ability to go inactive for eight hour stretches, sleep was not a necessity for Maris.

The door knob to Daniel's room jiggled. A pause. A muffled electronic beep sounded from the other side of the door and Maris stepped in, withdrawing the key card from the reader and sliding it into her back pocket. She had deceived the receptionist into programming her a key to Daniel's room. Quietly she entered and scanned the room. Daniel was asleep on the bed and Thumper sat in the armchair in the corner of the room, a glass of water and blaster pistol on the small table beside him. He seemed to be asleep. The wall chronometer showed it to be 4:57am.

Closing the door behind her, Maris lowered a black kit bag from her shoulder and placed it beside the wall. Recognising the organic need to process fuel into the form of carbohydrates and proteins, Maris had brought breakfast. She placed the warm cartons on the kitchen table. No doubt the smell would be rousing her comrades any time soon. It seemed that she had returned to their ship, Maris had changed clothes. Walking around in blood splattered clothes was frowned upon, even on Tatooine.

Silently, she made her way across to Daniel in the bed. She crouched down beside his head and scrutinised the extent of his wounds. Nodding to herself, she was pleased with the work Thumper had done to patch up the cuts. He'd be sore for a few days and not a pretty sight, but Maris predicted no lasting scarring or disfiguration. Standing, she paced the few steps to her comrade and placed a delicate hand upon his forearm.

"Good morning, Thumper. I brought breakfast." Maris said quietly in a tone that disagreed with the events of the previous night. She smiled warmly, removing her hand and walking across to the kitchen table. Unboxing the rather large breakfast, she glanced back to him, "I didn't know what you or Daniel would like. I hope this will suffice. We have a long day ahead of us and breakfast is the most important meal of the day."

"I hope you slept well," she added, slipping into the kitchenette and opened a number of cupboards and drawers. Cutlery chinked together and plates rattled as she gathered the utensils and placed them on the table. She stopped, bouncing on her heels with her hands clasped before her.
"Please, help yourself. It will all spoil in the heat."

”You should get some rest; we have a long day tomorrow."

Praise be to all that was binary and comprehensible because Mercury must have read the slicer's mind. To say that Daniel was tuckered out would be the understatement of the century; he was beyond exhausted, to the point of only remaining conscious out of a sense of survival. He didn't want to provoke Mercury into acting against him for being rude, and the more paranoid portion of his brain (which was the majority of it, really) still wasn't entirely convinced that he was in the clear. With one mishap coming after the other, it was only natural for the twitchy man to expect the worst still to come. It was a small comfort that the Confederate understood him and tolerated his eccentric personality, not to mention that he was more than capable of defending them both should the need arise as he'd proven previously. If Daniel went to sleep, he believed that Mercury would manage to keep them both alive long enough for Dan to wake up again. At least, this was his hope. Because he was going to go to bed now regardless of whether he wanted to or not. His weak body simply couldn't sustain itself for much longer.

The idea of the long day that was soon to be arriving made his head hurt worse than it already did. Tomorrow was going to be just as trying as today if not more so, such was his supposition. He was going to be working alongside soldiers of a government that he was not so particularly fond of against a Hutt that had the power to squish him should the fancy pass it. Daniel tended to do his best to not give people reasons to want him dead but he wasn't perfect and mistakes happened. All the time. Interacting with sentients was always so much more complicated than dealing with algorithms or computer mainframes . . . People were illogical, they didn't make sense, and Daniel was an oddity in an already bizarre universe of nonsensical sentients. By acting against the Hutt, though, it was guaranteed to get him into a world of pain should he screw up and get caught. The easy way to avoid this was not to get caught. But that was always easier said than done. He was good, among the best even, but the slicer knew that there was no such thing as perfection. Not with people, and not with technology.

”I’ll stay up and let Maris in when she gets back.”

"Good idea," he said with an altogether too vehement nod. It made him a bit dizzy and so he laid back on the bed. Even at night, Tatooine maintained its heat and so it was too hot to pull the covers up even with the air conditioning unit blowing a wafting coolness into the confines of the room. So he laid there, his mind a tumult of activity despite its fatigue, and thought about the day's events and the experiences yet to come. He stared at the curved ceiling, counted the little specks and cracks in it. One, two, three. His mind drifted to the difficulties that he'd faced in his life. They were as numerous as the marks on the dirty ceiling. Eight, nine, ten. It was remarkable how long he'd lived in this Galaxy that was out to get him. Maybe it was luck, or maybe it was something else. He was grateful regardless because despite his hardships, being alive was preferred to being dead. Thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four. His eyelids were drooping now, but his mind remained as active as ever much to his annoyance. He continued to count. Seventy-five, seventy-six, seventy-seven. It wasn't until around the three-hundreds that he fell asleep.

Even whilst in a catatonic state, however, he did not find rest easily. Daniel was plagued by nightmares, the kind that would have woken up a normal person but only pestered him while he slept. He'd grown used to the fear that gnawed at his subconscious, and so while his body tossed and turned in anxiety he managed to remain locked into the sleep that he needed. Sometimes, he'd murmur some incoherent piece of knowledge--something about a computer program, or how much storage certain datapads held, or just random equations that had no relevance to the dreams that tormented him. It was as though he were calling out to the only thing that he had in his favour, the only thing that could protect him from the dangers of the known Galaxy. Knowledge. They said it was power but that was only half-correct. Knowledge was far more than power, it was also safety, stability, a means to an end. What end that was in Daniel's case was anyone's guess. Hopefully a good one, and not one that would leave him as a bad headline in the holopapers. "Slicer Gets Sliced", yeah, he could see that one happening.

Hours later, even his subconscious had exhausted himself to the point where he could finally fall into a peaceful slumber. Absence of thought was surprisingly relieving, especially for someone with Daniel's brain. It was nice to simply stop all cerebral processes and just be for a few moments. Nothing could be preferred to something when that something was such a burden to live and deal with. There were no thoughts of himself, no thoughts of his problems, no thoughts of the Confederates or the Alliance or the Hutts or the criminals or anybody or anything else. So sleep thoughtlessly he did and his body began to heal and replenish itself as it should.

He was awoken to the sound of clattering foodware. Blinking wearily, it took him a few moments to remember where he was. Once he had, a frown found itself a home on his cracked lips. So this whole thing hadn't just been one of his nightmares, after all. It was reality. Kinda funny how it could be just as horrifying as fantasy. Tossing over the matted and sweaty sheets, he sat up slowly to regard the man and the woman who were known to him as temporary allies. They were speaking but it took his mind an inordinate amount of seconds to catch up to the conversation. By deductive reasoning, however, he realised that Maris seemed to have just recently returned and with breakfast. He was too distracted by the thought of food that he didn't stop to think about what the femme fatale had been up to for the duration of the night. Not like it was his business, anyway.

Yawning, he gave them a sleepy smile. "Morning, Maris, Mercury."

"Please, help yourself. It will all spoil in the heat."

She didn't have to ask twice.

Working undercover was still an experience Mercury was wholly unused to going through, and regardless of how much he tried to remind himself that, despite the pleasant surroundings -- by Tatooine standards -- he was in fact in a danger zone. Reclining back in his armchair the cushioned material was all too luxurious for his idea that they were effectively in a battle; what kind of battlefield had armchairs? His mind kept switching from civilian to Confederate, as if staying alert wasn't mentally exhausting enough. It was making for an odd mix. While Thumper had positioned himself to procedure, with the entire room in his sights and a solid wall behind him he couldn't help but sip gratefully at the glass of water beside him, or cross his ankles as he allowed the chair to envelop him. Half of him wanted to sleep, while the other was desperate to stay awake. Not just because it was his duty, but because Tatooine had already been kind enough to show the kind of lovely individuals that inhabited it. Whether they were really as sadistic as they'd tried to make out Mercury would never know, but there was a part of him that was all too confident that, given the chance, they'd have carried through with their brutality. Still, if this truly was a battle then things that had happened needed to be put to rest. One had to stick with the now so that they didn't get caught off guard. However, with the armchair beneath him it was hard not to grow drowsy. It was even harder to keep ears pinned back for telling signs of footsteps, and instead of imagining his surroundings beyond sight Mercury Flux began to think of home. The armchair was hugging him, just like his mother had done when he was little. So much like she had whenever the young Lorrdian had run in after hurting himself. Warmth, security, sleep.

"Good morning, Thumper. I brought breakfast."

Even muscle in his entire body tightened at once as fingertips disturbed the slumber he'd been in. The voice didn't even register to begin with, but as dark eyes shot open the smiling figure of Maris calmed him somewhat. At the same time that the realisation that he wasn't under attack came, Mercury was slightly flustered by how she'd gotten in. Somewhere he'd missed something, and although nothing had come of the mistake it very well might have been. As if falling asleep wasn't bad enough he'd done so with a hole in the defenses. Even now it made him uncomfortable, but there was no point dwelling on it too long. Daniel was still safe, Mercury was still alive and Maris had finally returned looking much fresher than before. Surprisingly fresher, and with food. She was such an odd one, though Mercury couldn't really pinpoint why; nothing she did was strange, but at the same time it didn't seem to correspond with usual behaviour. People didn't just disappear for a few hours in situations like these, then come back in clean clothes and baring food. It all just seemed a bit too civil for their circumstances. Not that the Lorrdian disliked it though, it was just . . . Odd.

"Morning Maris," he replied in a daze, still taken aback by her sudden reappearance.

Getting to his feet the Confederate holstered his weapon, rubbing his eyes and looking blearily around the room once more. His eyes searched for a clock mostly, to discern his place in the day and gain some bearings. Switching planets so often confused his body, but with a time in his head the Lorrdian could gain some kind of footing. Four fifty-seven the chromometer said before the lights creating the numbers danced and switched to four fifty-eight. Knowing just made the pilot more tired, but it would shake off after a few moments; military life helped with such things. A hand ran through his hair, which had flattened somewhat during his rest as he followed the smell into the kitchen with some enthusiasm. He had no idea what it was, but the Lorrdian had a stomach that could boss around even the most stubborn of people.

"[ . . . ] We have a long day ahead of us and breakfast is the most important meal of the day."

Thumper couldn't agree more, and had it not been for the fact that Daniel hadn't yet arrived in the kitchen the Confederate would have already dug into the many little packets of . . . Well, he didn't know much more other than it was food, but there was little chance it could be much worse than rations, especially the emergency pilot rations -- mushed up meals jammed together in a tube, created simply to sustain a body rather than entice the taste buds. Then again, the Hutts reigned supreme on Tatooine, and Mercury had seen first hand the kind of things they ate. For a moment his stomach backed off, envisioning little critters much like Eloise as they tried desperately to try and scuttle away from the gaping jaws of giant slugs. It was almost too much to remember the sounds, Lorrd, those creatures were foul beings. Then again, Thumper hadn't eaten for quite some time. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten in fact. It may well have been a few hours before he'd departed with Maris, which was growing close to an entire day without a decent meal, not even a snack. The dehydration that was constantly felt in such harsh weather must have distracted him enough so far, but water only did so much. Later there would be running, and shooting, and fighting, and extensive physical exertion. Luckily Maris had been around to remind them all, as silly as it was that they needed such a prompt.

Picking up one of the packets the Lorrdian set about trying to discern what it was and whether it was better or worse than the other things on offer; he was a curious individual by nature."Thanks Maris, I could eat a million giz-. . ." The Lorrdian turned his head to see if Daniel was within earshot, but for now the slicer didn't seem to paying the pair too much mind. He seemed very protective over Eloise, which was understandable, but there was no denying that the little creatures were often seen as food. The phrase just slipped really, but no harm no foul. "It smells delicious," Thumper put simply, giving Maris an appreciative smile.

Hungry was, however, beginning to overcome him. With his stomach effectively screaming at him the Lorrdian seized a flatbread, which he began munching on as he explored the other dishes on offer. It was a cacophony of smells that swam through the air and clung to the nostrils. Everything just served to make him feel even more lethargic than he should have felt, and the stabbing pains in his abdomen made him thankful Maris had brought back so much. Despite there being about enough to feed an entire squad of Confederates Thumper wasn't so sure they'd be leaving too much behind. Though he'd not been too sure about Tatooinian cuisine, Mercury had to say that the sight was quite something. A great pile of flatbread lay semi-wrapped where he'd already began to plunder the treats on offer. Ripping over another package carefully he found some Pallie, fruits that he'd actually had quite a few times elsewhere. Lamta too -- which wasn't much of a sight, but didn't stop the pilot marking it down for later digestion. It was becoming hard to keep his manners.

"I hope you slept well,"

Tentatively the Lorridan took a plate, trying his best not to seem rude by going first, but neither of the others seemed prepared to do anything, and he'd make sure not to take too much. Maris for one was just standing beside the table in what the Lorrdian could only describe as a housewife manner from extremely old holofilms. All that was needed was a fluttering dress, some smart heels, bright red lipstick and some pearls. The thought was too much for Mercury to handle, and as he went about getting himself a meal he found it hard to suppress a little giggle. The first bite was like a water gate, and the Lorrdian soon found it difficult to allow himself enough time to speak before the next mouthful. "Much better than on those regulation beds," he answered lightly. "How about you?"

It was a bit of a leading question, because Mercury was still curious to know where she'd spent so much time the previous night. She must have returned to the ship to change, but that would never take so many hours. There was still the fate of their 'prisoner' that Thumper was interested to hear about, but asking directly would likely yield no results. If there was one thing that the pilot was sure about it was that Maris could certainly keep a secret, and when she didn't want to tell him something she made it clear that she wouldn't utter a word. Strangely, there was something about that which made him think of Conner, but then again maybe that was just a trait that most superiors needed to have. The pair should certainly meet sometime though, they were sure to get along. It was just a shame that their running into one another would be so difficult considering the differing modes of employment. Yep, it was unlikely they'd ever meet one another in the giant machine that was the Confederation.

"Morning, Maris, Mercury."

Though his mouth was full Thumper did his best to greet Daniel, giving a wave of hello then one to signal all the food they had as Maris offered it up. It was fortunate really that the pilot was Lorrdian, and thus skilled in the art of communicating without a word. What was terrible was that this unique ability was being used entirely because he was trying to inhale too much food at once.

"Morning Maris,"

Yes, Maris was used to being a lone operative. She had grown accustomed to not asking permission or informing others of her location at any given moment. The thought of Thumper and Daniel being concerned for her whereabouts hadn't even been considered. Truth be told, Maris wasn't used to having others fuss about her. She paused her duties and glanced across the room towards Thumper as he stood from the chair and holstered his pistol. He looked dangerously tired and she wondered if he had gotten any sleep at all. Maris frowned a little, calculating if she was pushing Thumper too hard. Yesterday had been busy and no doubt stressful to the organic.

"Thanks Maris, I could eat a million giz-. . ."

"You are welcome, Thumper." Maris nodded politely, "It was the least I could do." A meticulous eye was trained upon the man as he picked between the various foods spread upon the table. Not knowing what either liked or wanted for breakfast, Maris had ran the gambit and brought as much back with her as possible. She tracked his movements like a predator waiting to strike. Maris watched has he pushed the edge of a flatbread into his mouth and devoured it. She smiled broadly, nodding enthusiastically. The flatbread had been a good decision.

The droid hadn’t seen Thumper consume more than a Satsuma while on Tatooine. He was in desperate need of nutrition and the voracity at which he consumed the breakfast feast confirmed that. Now if only Daniel would join them. She was unsure of the last time that he had eaten and not a morsel had passed his lips since he had been in her presence. Maris considered her attire for the proper serving of foods. She was underdressed, the droid knew that and prayed to the omnipotent and all powerful machine god that the cream khakis and plain white tank top be overlooked. Daniel was still stirring and Thumper had yet to comment, besides, he seemed quite content. Quietly, she assumed to be in the clear.

"Much better than on those regulation beds, how about you?"

Taking a calculated step to the left, Maris cocked her head to the side and examined the chair that Thumper had presumably spent the night in. She frowned before looking back to him. Did he truly believe that chair to be more comfortable than a regulation bed? Maris had never experienced any trouble with what the Confederation had provided her. Then again, sleep was an inefficient luxury to the droid and something she could never truly experience.
"Really?" The question was rhetorical. "Yes. I slept fine, thank you." The leading nature to Thumper’s question was either ignored or innocently overlooked.

"Morning, Maris, Mercury."

"Good morning, Mr Davies." Maris chirped, taking a few steps towards the man and pushing a large plate into the bony appendages he had the misfortune of calling hands. She held onto the place a moment longer, making sure to draw his attention before relinquishing. "You need to eat at least one plate. Is that clear, Mr Davies?" Releasing the plate into his hand, she focused on the creature hopping about Daniel’s ankles.
"It requires nutrition," mentioned Maris, turning her attention to the food. Breaking a flatbread into rough quarters that were almost perfect in dimension, Maris dropped onto her haunches and stabbed the bread towards Eloise's mouth with a determined expression.

His slender weight would have suggested otherwise, but Daniel never turned down a free meal. Well, almost never. If the food was spoiled, or came from a questionable source then he'd probably decline but since neither was the case here, he had no qualms with digging into the provided sustenance. Mercury seemed to have gotten there before him but there was plenty of food to go around. Maris, strangely enough, seemed more interested in their consuming the meal than in partaking of it herself. It felt impolite to eat before her, even more so to continue eating when she had not served herself anything. Maybe she'd already had something to snack on earlier? Or maybe she just wasn't hungry? Whatever the case, Daniel still had to inquiry, if for the sake of his own manners. Ladies go first and no one eats until everyone's served were two points of etiquette that his mother had browbeaten him into learning when he was younger; he carried the lessons still.

"Are you hungry, Maris?" he asked, even going as far as to offer to her one of the unopened packs of pallie before looking to serve himself. He really wished she eat, if for nothing else than his own peace of mind. Even if he wasn't offending her, or Mercury, he was offending his own sensibilities -- such as they were -- by not following the protocol that he usually did.

"Good morning, Mr Davies."

Out of instinct, he repeated another "Good morning, Maris" despite already having said it.

Maris then approached him with a plate the size of his head and filled to the rim with every sort of food that she'd brought with her. His eyes widened to the size of saucers as he looked over the inordinate amount of things piled atop the monstrously large plate. This was more food than he'd have in three days, let alone one sitting. Not that food was expensive, or that he was broke, but there was just so little time in between running for his life and making an illegal living for the simpler pleasures such as dining. Usually he just snacked on whatever he could find whenever it happened to come into his possession. Sometimes people would take pity on him at cantinas and offer him free meals when he was low on cash, but he knew better than to rely on the kindness of strangers. Whether they said so or not, they were always expecting something in return for their hospitality.

Not Maris, though. She was just plain nice. Daniel liked Maris. He could only assume that she was being her usual sanguine self by offering him some much-needed breakfast (and lunch, and dinner, for the next week, considering the ridiculous serving size). The giant plate was shoved a little unceremoniously into his dwarfed hands and he gave the deliverer a nervous smile in response. Did she expect him to eat all of that?

"You need to eat at least one plate. Is that clear, Mr Davies?"

Apparently she did.

"Uh, right, you got it," he said. He'd try, but there were really no guarantees. His stomach was only so large, after all!

The woman relinquished her hold on the plate, leaving Daniel to balance the heavy thing for a few moments before he could safely set it down in front of him. He looked from it to Maris, then to Mercury. There was a silent question in his eyes, as though wondering if Mercury was going to enforce Maris' order. When it came to these Confederates, he wasn't sure when they were joking or being serious. Slipping up in his understanding could prove disastrous since those in the Confederation's employ were not known for their mercy and forgiveness.

His gaze fell back to his food. Better get started, he supposed. Lifting some lamta to his mouth, he bit into the produce. Either it was really good or he just hadn't eaten in so long that it tasted better than usual. Perception was a funny thing in that sense; it was all relative. In record time, though, he'd snarfed down the fruit and had moved onto the flatbread. So far, so good.

As he was eating, Eloise made her presence known as she often did whenever food popped into the picture. He was about to hand her one of his pieces of flatbread, happy to have her help him finish this meal fit for a king (or someone with a larger appetite than his), when Maris beat him to it. She crouched down, seeming to appraise the little creature who returned her interest . . . But only for a few moments before Eloise decided that Maris wasn't worth her time when there was food to be had elsewhere and turned her little Gizka head away with the pomp and regality of a queen. Black eyes looked pleadingly up at Daniel as she awaited service.

"It requires nutrition."

In an act that he never would have anticipated, Maris then attempted to feed his friend. Daniel's jaw dropped open, his hand freezing with the food in it on its way towards his mouth. He hadn't even thought that Maris liked Eloise, let alone would be concerned for the creature's vitality. It was nice to see someone else show some due attention to the only other person -- er, animal -- that mattered to the slicer. If Daniel had been keeping score, Maris would have earned quite a few points with him for her gentle, compassionate action then and there. People tended to treat Eloise like she was just a little nuisance rather than someone who had just as much personality as any person. He didn't care what people said and just because she wasn't as sentient as humans didn't mean that she didn't have feelings like everyone else.

Eloise seemed suspicious of Maris and the offered food, but had little choice in the matter as the woman stuffed the piece of flatbread into her mouth. After a moment to decide that it wasn't poisonous or harmful to her, the Gizka warmed up to the Confederate femme and nudged her hand for some more. Daniel smiled. It looked like Maris had just made a new friend.

Mealtime progressed without a hitch with Eloise following Maris around for the rest of the time, even despite any attempts to shoo her away made by the Confederate. Daniel finished his food, all of it, by some miracle which science could not explain. With full bellies, they would be better prepared to face the day's difficulties and he was sure that there would be more than a few thrown their way. The pleasantries were done with, along with those that would have threatened the slicer, and there was no longer any reason to stall. All three of them had a job to do, and the sooner they got started, the sooner it'd be over, and the sooner life could return to normalcy for the twitchy man. Things had taken a turn for the interesting lately, but not in a good sense. Daniel wished for simplicity and safety, and neither were peaces that he'd get until everything was said and done. That meant that it was finally time to get to work.

First thing was first, and that meant a brief survey of the system that he'd be getting into. It was reconnaissance, really, nothing more. No one would even know that he'd gotten into the system. He retrieved his computer and seated himself on the bed, his back and the screen to the wall. Not that he minded them watching what he was doing, but . . . He minded them watching what he was doing. This wasn't actually legal, and they did work for the galactic government. If he wasn't being employed by them, he'd be in big trouble doing what he presently was. Despite his temporary alliance with them, he didn't feel comfortable allowing them to watch him work; they might pick up on all his tricks and then be better able to counter them in the future. That'd make things difficult if he was ever hired to hack into the Confederation, and Daniel didn't like making things hard for himself if he could at all avoid it.

"I'm just going to . . . get into this . . . ah, right . . . okay, yeah . . . just like it was . . . before," he mumbled to himself in between typing. His eyes glanced upwards occasionally at his companions to see what they were doing, or if they wanted him to explain what he was doing. He did so without prompt, anyway. "Right now, I'm just reviewing the system layout and security; it hasn't changed much since I made my alterations. Soon as I refresh my memory, we should go to a public place . . . maybe like the spaceport? Somewhere where there's a lot of holonet activity going on to mask my signature. From there, I should be able to get in, find whatever is there, and then get out." Of course he was simplifying things, but that was his job in a nutshell.

"Uh, that work for you both?" he asked in addendum.

With a smirk on his face, Mercury watched his fellow Confederate hand Daniel a large, bursting plate of food and demand that he eat it. It looked dangerous, with food threatening to tumble down the sides of the mound and spoil on the floor, and as it passed hands it was some miracle nothing bad occurred. Looking the slicer up and down, Thumper doubted he possessed the stomach to digest so much at once; Daniel looked like he could barely digest a couple of fruits, never mind that overdose of nutrition. Still, as the questioning look was given him Mercury chose not to answer. He smiled his usual smile, shook his head and threw another piece of pallie into his open mouth. In truth, the Lorrdian had no idea how Maris would react if the slicer was incapable of finishing it all. He doubted it would be terrible, but the pilot was fast understanding that Maris rarely said something and didn't follow it through. Both men could only hope that it didn't come down to force feeding, because if there was one thing that could sour a relationship it was roughly shoving food down another person's gullet. It would be an awkward situation to say the least.

"It requires nutrition."

Having completely missed the banter in the bar over the little Gizka, Mercury was somewhat less shocked as Maris crouched down and sprinkled some food for Eloise. It made sense, really; the woman seemed so encouraging of a healthy meal. The likelihood was that the little creature would be in the same danger they were; the slicer seemed far too attached -- and the reverse for the Gizka -- to leave her alone somewhere he was unable to see her. Tatooine was the kind of place you didn't want to leave a Gizka alone anyway, considering they were actually a delicacy. It would be terrible if they came back to find Eloise gone, a meal for some ignorant inhabitant. With any luck Daniel wouldn't be directly in the line of fire anyway; a recon was successful if you weren't spotted, or at least your identity wasn't found out. She'd be safe, so long as she stuck with her owner and didn't try to flee if any danger were to come their way. Unfortunately, should that happen, there was little chance there would be any rescue. In the middle of a mission sometimes it was prudent to be ruthless, because at the end of the day it was life or death, and Eloise was just a pet. Hopefully though it wouldn't come down to that.

The Lorrdian continued to munch on his food, keeping his plate well stocked by refilling it at intervals. By no means did he devour several plates as full as Daniel, but he hoped it would be enough to avoid the scorn of Maris. He'd eaten enough to fill him, and did his best not to waste any pieces -- those he did leave were quickly shuffled along to Eloise to get rid of. However, there was still a tentative, curious nature as he glanced over at Daniel. The man had made a valiant effort to get through the plate load and had yet to stop. Mercury kept tabs, not because he was going to force the slicer to finish, but simply because he was worried Maris might get upset. If it came down to it they could always take some food along. Daniel could work his way through over some time, rather than all at once. There was some fidgeting the more the Lorrdian thought about it, and he seemed to worry about the entire thing more than even the man being subjected to it. Soon though it was finished, much to Thumper's relief, and the subject was allowed to be lain to rest. There would be no arguing, no orders, they could all just carry on the same as normal.

As everyone buckled down to the upcoming work, so did Mercury. Just to be sure that he had everything he began to pack up the few things he'd taken out of his satchel. With running water the Confederate decided to get a refill while it was still possible, and made sure the others had a full bottle each; they'd already outlined the importance of staying hydrated. Since there were three of them, Thumper also thought it sensible to up his medical supplies in whatever way he could. There wasn't much around, but shuffling through some cupboards he soon came across spare sheets which, when ripped up, could be used for bandages. It wouldn't be much, but it'd be something; he only had two in the medipac anyway. As he was doing this Daniel sat on the bed, his computer in his lap, and typed away muttering to himself. He looked rather mad, but the Lorrdian wasn't going to say anything. It was one thing talking to your pet as if they understood, but it was another to mutter to a computer. Really, Mercury wondered whether there wasn't something slightly . . . off, with the slicer. Maybe it was just the stress of the job coming to the fore, or maybe there was some underlying issues in his life, but he couldn't shake the feeling.

"[ . . . ] Uh, that work for you both?"

Mercury never pretended he knew anything about computers, so the talk about hiding signatures, and that a spaceport was good for that kind of thing went entirely over his head. Daniel could have been lying, but because the pilot had no idea all he could do was trust the slicer was right. Why wouldn't he be, though? It seemed unlikely someone who works with computers on a daily basis would get that wrong, and Daniel had been keen to impress on them how exceptional he was at his work. There could be betrayal involved, but Thumper liked to trust in people, and the slicer hadn't shown himself undeserving of his trust so far. As such the Lorrdian nodded in agreement, mulling the idea over and deciding that it probably made sense anyway. Spaceports were so busy, and there were so many computers there. Yes, the more he thought about it the more he believed in the plan.

"That sounds fine," he replied curtly to the nervy little man on the bed, before turning to Maris to offer a suggestion. "If one of us stays with Daniel, the other could get to a vantage point, just in case they manage to locate us. Then we can get a heads up and get out of there before a gunfight begins."

"Uh, right, you got it,"

The haptic feedback in her fingertips registered nothing grasped between them. She had nothing, but Daniel insisted that she 'got it'. She blinked, cocking her head to the left as analogous meanings and turns of phrases were processed. Considerations flashed through her virtual synapses as a null set conclusion was reached. Her only choices were enquire or agree; Maris chose the latter.
"Yes, I do." She said quietly, almost questioning whether in fact she did have it.

Maris did not like Eloise. That fact had to be stated upfront and clearly. It was a creature of limited intelligence and incapable of higher thinking. It was a pet, an eccentricity that the slicer kept around and nothing more. It served no purpose. Maris failed to compute the companionship the creature offered Daniel, or the sounding board for his thoughts. It was a creature, by her estimation, that would be dead within four standard years of old age. As stated, for reasons beyond her understanding, Daniel was attached to the thing and his mood and performance would suffer if it was to drop dead from malnourishment.

The thing was suspicious and Maris waited impatiently, trying to apply sentient behavioral analysis algorithms to the gizka. The mapping failed spectacularly. She stabbed the bread forward again, breeching the thin lips and it was forced to eat. Apparently, it enjoyed the food as once it touched the creatures tongue, it gobbled it up. Maris nodded in delight. The gizka's insistent nudge for more was ignored.

Maris stood and walked away, coming to a stop in front of the window. Gazing out onto the street, haptic sensors registered contact brushing against her ankle. Twisting, she looked down with a confused frown. It was there and looking up at her with huge eyes. Maris shuffled to the right and the gizka followed, nudging her again. This dance continued around the room much to the droid's dismal understanding. Maris pushed it away with the tip of her boot and it hopped back. With a deep set frown, she looked to the others, especially Daniel for some form of explanation to its erratic behavior. Eventually Maris found some respite from the over affectionate creature as she sat in the chair that Thumper had slept in and drew her feet to her chest. It was still there, looking up to her with obscenely big eyes and hopping around. Why did it keep moving her from place to place?

By now, Daniel had finished his place, much to Maris' appreciation. He had taken a seat on the bed and had a portable computer open upon his lap. Maris watched intently as he began a test run against the hutt's systems. This wasn’t going to be a full breech, just investigative prods to feel out the computerised defences and layout.

"I'm just going to . . . get into this . . . ah, right . . . okay, yeah . . . just like it was . . . before,"

Daniel made questionable sounds, speaking to himself in broken sentences. Maris listened, trying to decipher meaning where little existed. She glanced down to the floor. It was still there and watched her expectantly. Frowning, Maris turned back to Daniel as he continued his probe.

"Right now, I'm just reviewing the system layout and security; it hasn't changed much since I made my alterations. Uh, that work for you both?"

"That sounds fine. [...] Then we can get a heads up and get out of there before a gunfight begins."

"Yes." Maris responded a second after Thumper had finished speaking. She had reviewed the plan and found it sound. A public slice added extra layers of protocol and obscuration, more hops and inconspicuous traffic to hide the malicious actions. And if things did turn nasty, they could be lost in the crowd and while the hutt may have known that his network had been compromised, finding the ones responsible would be difficult. She nodded soundly.
"Agreed. Thumper, you will watch Mr Davies. Please do not leave his side. I will keep an eye out."

Reaching the spaceport was bittersweet for Daniel. On the one hand, he was so close to freedom now. All he had to do was finish the assigned job and then he could burn sky until he saw lines. Even if things didn't work out, his ship was nearby. And he was fast. If he was sneaky enough, he might be able to bolt to the Jumping Gizka before his two associates could blink their all-seeing eyes. This was the scenario he liked the least, though, because admittedly he'd grown fond of the two Confederates; they had been kind to him, had saved his life, and he felt that he owed them a debt of gratitude. Them, personally, not their government. But on the other hand, being so close to a means of escape was such a tempting prospect, though it just reminded him how trapped he still was. Daniel liked to think he was an honest guy, and that meant that he'd have to act like one too. An honest guy didn't abandon their allies if things didn't go their way; and an honest guy did exactly as they said they would. Daniel said he would help and so he would, even though he'd much rather just run and run and run until he was far from here, and safe.

As he sat down across from a friendly-looking Bimm, he offered a small smile. The sentient seated across from him had no idea who he was or what he was about to do . . . or the fact that he was going to use the Bimm's out streaming outputs to do it. In fact, the majority of the people who were minding their own business as they typed away at their computers and various other electronic devices had no knowledge of what the skinny man was up to. All the better for them both, he thought as he set to work. Use 'em and lose 'em, that would be the key to his endeavour today. Bouncing off of all the different signals would make him effectively invisible and untraceable as he delved into the Hutt's databases. At the same time, none of them would get in trouble since if the Hutt did notice later that he'd been hacked and tried to trace the IP and whatever else, he'd likely be able to figure out the trick that Daniel had used. By then, though, it'd be too late.

It felt sort of like a spy holoflick as he sat at the small table, connected to the main server of the spaceport. Mercury was nearby, keeping an eye on him, but also keeping his distance so as not to look suspicious. Out of sight, but not out of mind, Maris was also keeping tabs on everything that was going on. Their work would be easy if Daniel did his job right, and he had every intention of doing so. Get in, download what information he could, and then get out. He'd done dozens of jobs like it, simpler and more complicated, and this would be no different. His experience would guide and guard him while his intelligence kept him from falling into any new traps. Sometimes, suspicious techies would set up pitfalls and the like to keep people from getting into their servers and other places, but Daniel knew what signs to look for. He was no amateur, after all, and slow and steady would be his strategy here. Not to mention that his computer could only download information so quickly. While it did so, he'd just focus on covering his and the Confederation's tracks.

No sooner had he booted up his computer and set its priorities and safeguards, he began the tricky trek into the Hutt's mainframe. Like his initial sweep had shown him, no modifications had been made for security since Daniel's last update of the system. He'd done a damn good job of it, and the Hutt had been pleased; it would have been a heck of a time to get in and maneuver around for anyone who wasn't Daniel. Since he had set the majority of the security up, though, it was less difficult to get where he needed to go. All the while, he had his own IP bouncing off of every other computer in the spaceport terminal, as well as running it a few times through the holonet to other star systems for added measure. Paranoid, he might have been. But he hadn't gotten caught in years, so obviously he was doing his job right. It was tempting to test out some of his new viruses on the Hutt's vulnerable database, but that sort of thing could be traced back to him more easily than anything else and he wasn't willing to risk it. Besides, the Confederates just wanted him to get information, nothing more serious or attention-drawing than that. He would follow orders as good as any officer.

He hummed to himself a little, going over the algorithms that his computer was running in his head as he operated. Computer error tended to be significantly less than human error, but he liked to double check things himself just in case. It wasn't like he had anything better to do while his computer began to copy each and every file it came across. Shifting in his seat, fingers perched above the keyboard, he kept alert for any dangers . . . either from the system security, or from those surrounding him. While he trusted Maris and Mercury to do as they said they would, accidents happened. The slicer was prepared to deal with those if he had to, though. Meanwhile, Eloise hopped around his feet as they both waited to see what fruits this labour would bear.

((Are Daniel's safety precautions and experience enough to keep him from getting caught as he works? Does Daniel manage to download copies of the Hutt's files? If so, is there anything in there that directly links the Hutt's organisation to the Alliance?))

((As Daniel works, his luck holds out, proving that the nickname "Lucky Danny" isn't misplaced. His experience and skill within slicing aids him in his work as he bypasses the Hutt's security. It is no simple task and anyone with less experience would've triggered an alarm already. He doesn't manage to download all of the information, the sounds of someone approaching cutting the work short.

If he looks at the files, he'll find various shipping records, each with a different captain doing the hauling. The goods are of a wide variety, drugs, expensive food and other goods. Those that stick out are weapon shipments, but nothing in the files tell who ordered the shipments. The destination planets tell nothing as well, some even going to Dolomar. Naboo has received a shipment of exotic alcohol, while Corellia's stock of seeds for farming has been refreshed. Some weapon shipments have been delivered to Taanab, Coruscant and Denon. This could be to the Alliance or other criminal organisations, nothing explicit aims to the purpose of the wares.))