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Part Time Job	By : dschinny Category: Star Wars (All) > General Views: 7157 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Star Wars movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
Thank you Kiana, for your kind words. I love feedback, it keeps me writing!
Chapter 16 - Always be polite to a client.
“We have a conflict here that needs to be settled fairly once and for all.” Skirata started his arbitration. “Both sides complain about a lack of respect. Nobody is allowed to leave. Jango Fett denies taking out a treat to our project immediately, which appears unacceptable to the Cuy’val Dar. Tomoe pleads for the use deadly force in self-defense, which had a chance of success before I stepped in. Jango claims that he can bend her to his will with further information and medication when you step in, Vau?”
“To some it is known as ‘Truth Serum’,” Vau carried on fluently, staring at Tomoe “because it strips away your brains cognitive and reasoning responses. It lowers the curtain between conscious and subconscious and we will know if you are indeed a threat to us.” He watched Tomoe’s pupils dilate with some satisfaction. Yes, today she would fight. He redirected his icy stare. “Afterwards we can decide what we want her to remember and what not.” He nodded briefly to Fett then added “Don’t worry about the schematics of it, that’s my job, if you provide me with a reason to do so, since drugging hapless aruetiise was not part of my job description. I’m hired to train soldiers.”
Jango raised an eyebrow at Vau “I’m sure I can sweeten you up. Skirata just lectured me about her mandokarla.”
“If she is mando, you cannot deny her the right to defend herself and you cannot own her. I would encourage you to settle this question in the old way.” Vau retorted. “Decide.”
“My tenacious housekeeper had her chance. She fought - and lost – twice.” Jango drawled and eyed his slave. “Would you submit willingly after a third trashing, Cin’ciri? I can provide another one.”
Tomoe had followed the discussion silently as long as it went on over her head, but now her voice dripped contempt. “I decline. You will have to do better.”
Vau quickly leaned forward physically getting between Jango and Tomoe as though keeping two small children from getting into it and giving both a hard stare. “Skirata mentioned fair. To me, that means fight circle etiquette, no armour and equal weapons.”
“Why wait?” Jango snorted.
“Because you owe me a fight against her.” Kal pointed out. This wasn’t going as expected, but irrespective of the outcome, it would help to vent her desperation and earn her some very public respect. He could work with that afterwards.
“Because I won’t wipe her mind for you if you don’t fight and win in order to prove that she stands no chance to become a member of our society.” Vau retorted “Shouldn’t be an issue against your so called aruetyc housekeeper.”
“Under no circumstances. Therefore I won’t take advantage of my right to choose the weapons.” Jango shrugged his shoulders. “Choose the instrument of your punishment, Cin’ciri.”
Tomoe decided that Jango wasn’t worth an argument and stuck to Kal. “Please excuse the interruption, sires, since I’m not informed about the etiquette and I presently have no weapon.”
“No deathblows are permitted. Who leaves the circle before a decision is made, looses. A decision can be made by capitulation, unconsciousness or the first bleeding injury of the opponent. The weapons allowed range from unarmed combat to blades like knife, sabers or swords, which can include vibro-function, but they have to be equal. Just make a pick; I’m sure we find somebody to help out.” Kal ticked off.
“I choose saber,” Tomoe aimed high.
“You can use my pair of sabers…” Vau offered.
“I’m honored,” she bowed slightly.
“Wait a moment, Tomoe.” Kal piped in. “Before you agree, your end of the bargain should be defined as well.”
“You said, no deathblows, no leave.” Tomoe gave Jango a deliberate death stare. “Then what’s in for me?”
Scared by the blood thirst that his all-times-kind friend suddenly emitted, Boba rushed in “NO... please, no!” he clamped his hands into her tunic, striving to pull her down to face him.
“Respect and a self-determined existence in this city until the time its location is disclosed. I expect that in about four or five years.” Skirata proposed.
“Add the return of my property held by Fett and the removal of the anklet.” Tomoe continued absentmindedly.
If she ignored the local rules and did what her own tradition dictated, what her ancestry and honor demanded of her, the only way out would be death. With that her blood line would expire. Vau’s sabre would make it clean and easy to end it here and now... but looking in the hazel eyes of the boy clinging to her, she found out that she did not have what it took to rip his soul apart for her pride alone. She picked up the desperate kid in pajamas and kissed Boba’s forehead. “When Jango honors the rules, so will I, Boba.” She put him back down gently. “Now go with Kal, he will take care of you.”
“Shall we begin?” Vau pushed out of the chair and turned to leave, hands clasped behind his back.

Apparently, word got around quickly in Tipoca City. There were already two more armored Mando’ade outside the door waiting when Kal, Boba, Tomoe and Jango arrived.
Kal’s eyes had a bit of a gleam when he opened the door they guarded. “The sergeants’ sparring and training room,” he announced in a no-nonsense voice. He led her inside; it was actually the biggest room she had seen so far. One corner of the floor was covered with firm padding. In another corner hung a leather martial arts training dummy and also a large, canvas punching bag. The opposite wall housed an assortment of various training weapons from canes to quarter staffs, wooden swords and bayonets to ropes. Some chairs and a chequered board on the wall completed the furnishing.
The hall rang with the sounds of animated conversation and laughter. Rumors and bets flowing between the armored men. Occasionally the men spoke briefly to one another in Mando’a, seeming to compare information and weigh decisions. Suddenly it was almost as though a hush seemed to stop and spread around the room; A cold chill seemed to creep up Tomoe’s spine as all eyes seemed to suddenly turn on her and for the briefest of instances they were wary and hostile, like a pack of guard dogs wondering what ‘stray’ had come into their territory.
“Let’s see if she can show us anything new, eh?” Around Jango his henchmen and soldiers roared with raucous laughter. She could feel their hostile stares at her, the humiliating laughter. She merely stood stock still at her full height, no emotion in her dark brown eyes. Never would she give them the satisfaction of letting them see any emotion on her.
A massive desk dominated near the back of the room and sitting on top of the corner of this desk was Walon Vau. To the rest of the crew, old psycho’s particular good mood was nothing but another omen for pain to come. “Su’cuy Tomoe,” he smiled warmly, benignly. “I was so impressed by your tenacity that I decided to coach you myself.” He motioned her towards the far side of the ring. “You don’t mind, little one?” - “I’m honored, sir.” He unwrapped a neat package reverently and passed a saber to Jango first, “Here. Don’t ruin it.” Fett ambled away. Vau continued and produced the saber’s twin blade “It’s a bes’kad,” he handed it to Tomoe.
The saber rested heavily on her palms, but Vau was probably strong enough to wield them as a pair. “Thank you.” She half-turned and unsheathed the long familiar shape smoothly. The audience calmed. It was a special weapon indeed. No light reflected on the matte grey material. She rested the sheath on the table and gripped the hilt with both hands, inspecting the blade before she turned it vertically and knocked the hilt on the table lightly. The blade’s sound was dull, nothing like the clear sound of her own knife, but not faulty, more like a consolidated material that was swallowing whatever frequency connected with it.
Tomoe quickly reversed the blade and nicked the seams connecting the overlong sleeves to the tunic. She reached up and ripped off the excess-fabric, dropping it on the table together with the oversized socks and the worse-than-ever slipping pants. The laughter, gibberish like an occasional ‘dikut’ and catcalls in her back would not slow her down or make her slip. If her state of undress distracted Fett – just the better. She gathered her wispy tresses with a loose thread and picked up the bes’kad again.
“Let’s do some swings and stretching and then finish up in here.” Vau motioned to her, and then sidled up to Skirata.
For the moment Fett was the only one who ignored Tomoe as he shed his armor down to the body glove and got acquainted with his own saber. For some reason he had allowed his feelings to cloud his conscious of the here and now. There was a part that didn’t trust her at all, saw her as an outsider and a liability; a part of him that felt compassion for her and a part that focused on the womanly attractiveness of her. She had proven valuable since she had matched Boba perfectly... he had not seen his son this happy in awhile and it deeply warmed his heart. But now his son was scared, huddling against Kal’s thigh, wide eyed like some other kids, years ago.
‘You messed up, Jango...’
With a grunt of anger at himself, he resettled his body and thoughts. To care for something was to give it power and to give it power was to give himself a weakness. ‘The wildcat is seething in anger and will go for your throat a third time, but without the slowing effects of a stun dart. The body glove will hold off the superficial scratches. Protect yourself, give her a good trashing, then we can all go home.’ He took a deep breath and smelled the mixture of musk, antiseptic soap and weapon oil as it filled his powerful lungs. The familiar aroma, his strict training and discipline were able to bring his mind and body under sharp control.

Only one more Mando’ad had come into the room and Skirata locked the door.
“You think she can win?” Skirata asked Vau who towered beside him. He angrily chewed his ruuik-root while watching the slender woman by the table doing her warm-up. Kal could tell she was skilled, but even out of his armor Fett looked as massive as a freight train compared to her.
Tomoe stilled her heart and mind, controlled her breathing and began to connect her body with the blade that denied to whisper in her hands, but spoke to the void inside of her. It was eager to dish out a taste of death anytime. After a moment she achieved that perfect state of both oneness and nothingness.
Not a muscle moved in Vau’s granite-like face. “While Fett is invincible with his twin-blasters, he never devoted himself to the fine art of fencing. If she’s quick enough and avoids a lock, I suppose she can do some damage… otherwise she will find out how sore I really left her.”
Well aware of Vau’s talent to wind him up in seconds, Skirata preferred to ignore the hint. “I doubt that she can stop such a heavy blade in time.”
“Probably not...” Vau admitted.
“…and if this goes all messy?”
Vau steepled his fingers and sat back for a moment, thinking, analyzing potential outcomes. “Then we need a new leader. I will pick up the fallen saber and fulfill her death wish by challenging her.”
Skirata harrumphed and motioned the opponents into the ring. “No deathblows. Am I perfectly clear?” He lifted the PEP-laser and watched them bow slightly. “Haat, ijaa, haa'it” The spectators looked like they never had any expressions on their stone cold professional faces. Just a hard, unbending resolve and a deadly quiet nature. An unspoken signal flashed amongst them. “Good,” Skirata smiled sarcastically. “Oya.”
Tomoe exploded with such lightening fast reflexes he never saw it coming. Her cry mingled with the audience’s moans of anguish and shouts of fear, rage and death that hung in the air and then silence. Total deafening silence… pierced by a boy’s high pitched “Dad?!”
Whatever the style the small woman used, it was deadly, accurate and brutal. She had outmaneuvered him, leaving empty air where his saber came down. Jango felt a sudden sharp pinch just above his knee and heard a far-away sound as though it were all happening to someone else. He whirled around to keep up with the pace. A red stream of warm blood seeped down his leg.
“Do something rash and give me an excuse to kill you.” Her movement seemed oddly slow as she stood poised like a deadly cobra, her eyes were hard with a deadly intent while she guarded her wounded opponent. She did not need to look around to know that Skirata’s had his PEP-laser well trained.
Jango crouched with a deep gash in his upper thigh. The scent of his own blood assaulted his previously numbed senses. An involuntary groan of pain was driven out of his lungs.
“I did not cut the main vessel.” Her eyes burned with dark fire, her muscles tightened in barely controlled anger. “You’ve made a bad mistake,” she hissed at him, “that game of yours ends today.” A smack of her fist on the back of the blade sprayed deep red droplets over his face. Realization hit him like a dash of cold water.
Skirata instructed in a clear, calm voice. “After you leave this circle, Jango Fett, you will set up quarters for Tomoe Harada, give her paid employment, return whatever of her property you hold, remove your monitoring anklet and treat her with respect.” With a nod of understanding Fett calmly stood and limped out of the ring, got a med-kit and accessed the cut on his thigh with an efficiency that had come to him with a lonely and violent life. Afterwards he donned his armor.
Tomoe skirted away of Fett and his henchmen cautiously. Coated in a light sheen of sweat and feeling like she had just run five miles, she wiped the saber with a torn sleeve. She sheathed the blade and bundled up her ragged clothing before returning the weapon to Vau with reference. “It has been an honor.” She bowed gracefully and Vau inclined his head, giving her a slight half-bow.
Jango straightened up and dug out a folded note from the collar of the body glove. He seemed numb but at the same time stood in front of her with resolute determination. Skirata intercepted the parchment immediately. “I’ll take that. Don’t even think about not showing up again in exactly 30 minutes.” Jango nodded, turned away and walked out the double doors without looking back. Kal clutched Boba’s shoulder. “Stay with me. Your dad will be back shortly.” …’and from what I have just seen, the old chakaar’s damn lucky to have such a son.’
Kal redirected his attention to Tomoe. “You will stay here and keep your silence and show respect to the Mandalore. If you follow and obey that one rule, your life will be protected and revered and we will live in harmonious coexistence. But ever try to leave or to make contact to the outside galaxy and our deal will be over permanently. I know death intimately and it doesn’t talk back and ask a lot of questions. You will be Cuy’val Dar – no longer existent - and you follow our rules implicitly. Fail that and you will end up truly dead, kid. Are we clear on that?”
“I’m in.” Tomoe said looking into Skirata’s hardened gaze.
For the first time, Tomoe saw a genuine smile spread across Skirata’s grizzled, wolf like face and he simply put a hand on Tomoe’s shoulder. “Excellent. I’m glad,” was his only reply. Slowly she nodded slightly but said nothing else. He casually ended this meeting with a dismissive wave of his hand.

END OF PART I

...Time for my silent readers to tell me what you think about it so far ;) Oh well, I guess one faithful reader has to make up for the rest of you… Here's the sequel: http://movies.adult-fanfiction.org/story.php?no=600091855
Read it or leave it :P
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Part Time Job

Chapter 16 - Always be polite to a client.