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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
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Chapter 3 - He who hires my hand, hires my whole self.
One hour later, the Slave I exited hyperspace and its pilot went through the landing routine, announcing his arrival to his employer. Jango sat the ship down on the landing pad gently to keep his son sleeping then went to fetch the merchandise. “Get out and extend your hands.” He tightened a pair of binders around the female’s wrists and shoved her forwards to repeat the procedure with Oniro, his gloved, armored hand tapping the code in the key-pad of the cage.
Tomoe struggled briefly, untied a shawl from her sash and passed it to the other captive “Take this until our ‘guardian of dignity’ decides to return your clothing to you,” she scathed and stared at the T-shaped visor. Oniro seized the chance to belt his robe before the binders closed around his wrists. Fett secured another pair connecting the captives’ elbows, “Move.” It didn’t take another push to get the merchandize off his ship.
Tomoe blinked at the sun shining high over the buildings, the heat reflecting in the permacrete pit of the landing area, searing through the thick soles of her white socks. She agreed fully with the brisk pace of the bounty hunter who shoved them over the landing ramp to a shuttle with tinted rear windows waiting at the hangar bay.
“Welcome home, Mr. Oniro,” the bald heavyset man servant in a suit overlooked the binders with a smile that didn’t touch his eyes, “and the infamous Fett, I suppose... please accompany us.” He opened the back door for them flashing the slight bulge of a blaster in a shoulder holster. Tomoe was packed in the ice-cold, air-conditioned vehicle between a sweating, nervous Oniro and an armored, stoic mercenary. She sat straight and tried to memorize the way through the industrial area of the spaceport and between endless white windowless walls, taking turns from time to time.
A faceless gate swallowed the ground transport and Fett herded his captives over a small court into a dim lit building. The man servant bothered to slip out of his shoes, but his beckoning to the visitors just earned him a cold stare from a T-shaped visor which reminded him that a mercenary’s service had limits. The entrance hall’s impressive dimensions were stuffed with furniture, the bright colors of the thick carpets and wall-hangings smudged by a mixture of warm and cold, sickly sweet smoke hanging in the air. Part of it was produced by two goons unwinding on a low cushioned couch in the corner.
A tall thin man in a floor length, floating robe and a small cap sitting on top of his immaculate haircut entered the room through an ornate door in the opposite wall. He acknowledged Oniro with a quick glimpse, then had a close look at the female tied to him by the wrist. “Very good, Mr. Fett, you have found my brother-in-law faster than expected. And this is the woman who was with him?” he ran his eyes up and down her form like a connoisseur, “How do we know it’s the right one?”
“Sir, I’m Tomoe Harada, house mother of the Nanakusa-Cottage, of the reputable Sen-Ike-resort. Mr. Oniro was our respectable guest. With all due respect, please put an end to this degrading treatment so I can put an end to your irritation.”
“Is that all you have to offer, Fett – her word?” The lord of the manor was good at filtering content obviously, ignoring the request.
Fett’s left hand rested lightly on his blaster as the man servant approached his merchandise, a cutter in hand. “And some evidence,” he flipped a datachip at his contractor.
“Accountant.” Oniro’s brother-in-law stirred up the two men from their couch to replay the material on the portable interface one of them carried. He then turned back to his accountant without further notion “Transfer the full ten grands to Fett’s account.”
The bounty hunter acknowledged the transfer with a court nod and strode out.
“Now my dear brother, let’s get a rid of those binders.” The master of the house beckoned the servants to take over the prisoner while he took an amicable hold on Oniro’s shoulders and led him to the ornate door. “Relax, take a bath and find some sleep. You are home.”
“But... Ms. Harada...?” Oniro halted.
“Shhh... we’ll take care of it.” He whispered something in Oniro’s ear that made him blush fiercely and hurry for the doorway.
Tomoe found herself standing in the middle of the large room, the non-introduced threesome circling her like vultures. She could have sworn she heard the rustling of fabric in the smoky shadows of the balustrade. “Mrs. Oniro?” she raised her voice gently “I swear, nothing unethical happened at the Sen-ike-resort.”
“Shut up and answer my questions.” Oniro’s brother-in-law re-emerged, “You have been in the same room as Mr. Oniro?”
“Yes.”
“You were clad like you are now?”
“Yes.”
“You have touched Mr. Oniro?”
“I can hardly deny it the way I was marched in here.”
“Shut up. Yes or no?”
“Yes.”
“You know that Mr. Oniro is a married man?”
“Yes.”
He turned to the accountant. “You’ve heard it. Complete the paper work,” he pointed at the man-servant “You take her to the market.”
“Sire, remember even if there was a problem according to your local customs, you can’t deny me a judicial decision. The authorities of my home planet have to be notified. And you would need four male witnesses.”
“Wise gal... incidentally I’m a judge, you just confessed in front of three witnesses plus I have some juicy evidence of witness number four.” He ran a finger along her cheek, then lifted her chin gently for close inspection “Rejoice in my mercy, I could have flogged you to death, isn’t it... my dear sister?” He raised his voice.
“Are you married, judge...? Because you are touching me and I don’t want to get another sentence.” Tomoe whispered.
“You won’t have any more problems like that, pet, because legally - you are no longer a person.” He snatched the pouch from her collar, opening the ID “Tomoe Harada... what a shame. But it helps to refinance our efforts.” He flipped the card at the accountant.
“I want that dress,” interfered a muffled female voice from the balustrade.
“Strip,” The manservant cut the binders and jerked at the stiff collar of the under robe with little result, “don’t make me drag you out of it,” he growled as he felt the fabric yanked from his fingers by the heavy weight of her back and shoulder leaning back in a fluid move. He let go before it pulled him off balance.
“You’ll find it useless to you, Mrs. Oniro.” Tomoe shook her head and started untying a narrow ribbon, “memorize my actions step by step... learn to move as I move... to think as I think... then you’ll probably realize the mistake you make.” The sash and the outer robe cascaded to the ground in a puddle of silk.
“And that red under-robe! I want that, too!” Mrs. Oniro whined from the balustrade.
A shroud of crimson tie-dyed silk billowed over the heap on the ground that had been a living being to Tomoe a moment ago. She lifted the hem of her white cotton wrap skirt slightly to step over it. “Make sure you dry that thoroughly,” she hissed at the man-servant who seized her and secured her hands behind her back with another pair of binders.
Jango didn’t listen to the argument but passed the court and doorway. Behind the first corner, he reached into his utility belt and programmed surveillance remote. A flip of his wrist sent a small silver ball into the sky. At maximum climb, the drone extended its wings and whizzed off while the bounty hunter continued his walk down the dusty road and ordered a cab for transport and local recce.
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Part Time Job

Chapter 3 - He who hires my hand, hires my whole self.