[Solved] (Episode III) Cantonica Nights

It was an evening like any other in the opulent old town of Canto Bight. The moon shone down brightly on winding cobbled streets, and the sound of breakers crashing on the seawalls drifted up between the old, stately residences, their windows glowing from within, everything exactly in its place.
Canto Bight was, at its very best, an elegant, indulgent town.
You didn't want to see what it was at its worst.
One woman, unfortunately, had no choice.

Baron Clemon Bocard was an ambitious company man, the sort of man who knew what he wanted, and cared little for the desires of others. After many weeks of trying, of sending courting notices, of attending events and buttering up her old man, he had finally secured a few hours alone with the eligible young Harper Caale. What he had really done was cornered her. And to be accurate, he was never really alone – Baron Bocard never went anywhere without the armed and trusted men of his security detail.
The Baron watched the young woman standing nearby, his body language eager and honor-less. His date had shown little interest in him at dinner, nor at the races after. He thought she might enjoy displays of bravado and courage, but she showed no gratitude for his placing a high-risk bet in her name. He thought perhaps she was given to a more altruistic outlook, but neither did she seem impressed by how he showered the waitstaff at the Bell Rigon with generous tips. All she had done the entire night was make foolish little jokes to herself, as though he could not hear her.
His patience was beginning to wear thin.
Now, he thought, was the time to set charm aside. He sensed she did not respond to flattery (largely because she had not responded to his) and decided it was time to be frank. She was young. He needed to make her understand her situation. What she had to lose. He was so close he could taste it.

"I sense you're unhappy. Come now, my dear. You've hardly given me a chance. Lucky for you, I'm not cross. Won't you extend a bit of faith? I'm not so bad as you might think. You don't know what you might be missing."

She murmured to herself. This time he did not catch what she said, but it stirred in him a surge of anger.

"You know how things have changed around here. Silly girl!" he suddenly snapped. He let out a small, self-conscious chuckle, and tried to powder over it with a smile. "I'm sure you had many hopes for the way things used to be, but you must now adapt to the way things are. I'm sure you've received many proposals, but I am a much more desirable option than the rural gentry, and not only for my charisma and impeccable taste. UniStar is becoming more powerful on Cantonica, and you know about my wonderful standing with the company."

"You've certainly mentioned it," Harper snarked quietly.

"I can't help but talk about things that excite me. It has been a lucrative partnership. It will continue to be. It has made me fabulously wealthy. I will not apologize for that. Partnerships result in so many..." His lips curled back to reveal his shiny white teeth. "...Benefits, for both parties, wouldn't you agree?"

Harper couldn't even hide her distaste; she was too busy holding back a retch. She turned away.

"Can't say that I do, no. Hasn't done anything for your breath, either."

The Baron quickly smelled his own breath with a hand. It was flawless. His eyes narrowed as he caught sight of her expression. The girl was a stone wall, an arrogant, desirable stone wall who refused to give him the time of day. He had offered her everything, put himself on the line, risked humiliation. Well, now he refused to be humiliated.
His demeanor changed. As she went to turn away, his fingers wrapped around her wrist and he pulled her back.

Her eyebrows shot up. She hadn't expected him to resort to violence. It was the stupidest route he could choose—he knew who her family was, what would happen to him. But then, he was nothing if not delusional. Perhaps the most insulting thing she had done so far was refuse, even now, to be at all intimidated by him.

She fixed him with a bored gaze, and spoke firmly.

"Let go of my hand."

She tried to wrench her wrist free, but his grip was, admittedly, tight. Harper looked up and watched the Baron's expression and voice take on a new tone. The light in his eyes had disappeared. He sneered as he spoke.

"Perhaps I should mention what would happen if you were to refuse me, yes? Your father thinks the world of me. He has told me things, things about you, things about your family. Do you know what might happen, if I were to use this information? What could happen to the lovely life you've enjoyed? Your father has recently signed a contract with UniStar himself. Even if he listened to you, he stands to lose much if he stands in my way. I will ruin your family, girl. If you don't do what I say, I will ruin you. I don't care if you love me, but I will have you."

Harper's blood boiled. That was the last straw. She snorted through flared nostrils, pulled with all her weight and threw a fist across his leering face. The punch connected, knocking spittle from his mouth and knocking his jaw to the side with a sharp crack.
The last trace of a smile was wiped from his face by the fury that took its place.
Harper tried to back away, looking around to the guards to see if any would step in, but they stood stone-faced, watching for any trouble or meddlers. They were the Baron's men. They would protect him, no matter what vile thing he did, and would raise no complaint.
She met Bocard's gaze, and her eyes turned hard and steely.

"You'll have nothing of the sort," she declared.

She reached up and slipped a comb out of her hair, a nest of wrought Haysian gold with a sharp, needle-like point. Before Baron Bocard could comprehend what was coming, Harper thrust the point into his neck.
It broke skin and drew blood.
She stepped back quickly as he recoiled in shock, grasping at his throat.

"How dare-! You-" he sputtered. "Guards!"

They were well-trained not to look, but there were obvious exceptions. One of his three security men turned and flinched at what he saw; his employer had been injured at the hands of his obnoxious young date. The man swung his blaster carbine up and his mouth formed the word, "Freeze!"

Only half of the word made it out of his mouth and into the evening Cantonica air, before two blaster bolts flashed across the paving stones and struck him dead.
His weapon fell with a clatter as he collapsed to the ground.
The other two spun in alarm, looking for the source of the shots. Harper did the same.
She was the first to see, from the alley, a slight, hunched figure emerge. A man, on the short side, wearing a filthy mechanic's boiler suit and a dirty, orange-trimmed Mandalorian helmet.

His blaster, already raised, flashed five or six times. One of the two living guards grunted and dropped where he stood, chest smoking. The other, who wore a black protective breastplate, took the shots intended for his chest in the strongest part of his armor, and charged the assailant with force pike in hand.

The assailant wasn't expecting him to still be alive. He raised his right hand instinctively.

"Woah, now wait a second-"

The charging enforcer let out a noise of shock as he stumbled over Harper's outstretched foot and fell heavily onto the street. The vigilante, surprised, paused for a moment before he hurried forward and shot the man twice between his breastplate and helmet seal.

The Baron watched in utter terror, one hand clutching his bleeding neck. Harper had only struck a surface wound, but the Baron was not used to wounds in general. He scrambled back to find something to hide behind, and crammed himself into a shallow recess behind a pillar. It offered very little in the way of cover or concealment, and only made him look pathetic, and desperate to survive.

"Now, just a moment," he stammered frantically. "I can pay, I can pay extremely well. I'm very well-connected. You don't want to harm me, it would not turn out in your favor. UniStar would find you. You would lose everything."

The vigilante glanced up at him, and waved his blaster wearily in his direction.

"Shut up, man. I'm not here for you."

The Baron flinched, eyes glued to the man's blaster pistol, and promptly went quiet.

Harper adjusted her hair, glancing at the dead UniStar security, blast marks still steaming. To her credit, she recovered quickly. She had always had an unnatural stomach for these kinds of things, to the embarrassment of her sister and father. She liked to think she took after her mother in matching whatever grace she possessed with the same amount of toughness, and a sense of humor to boot.

"Well, what a lot of excitement!" She turned to the spacer, clasping her hands. "Thank you for lending a hand, you saved me from a very dreary conversation, and an even more dreary existence as a trophy wife. Do I know you from somewhere? I don't usually have friends as...fragrant… as you."

The man in the Mandalorian helmet did not look straight at her, even as he replied. His voice was young, informal but uncomfortable. "I was sent by Adonis Prynn. He said you wanted to jump on board whatever he's putting together."

Harper's eyes lit up in recognition. "Oh my, yes! I've been waiting a while, it's about time someone shows up. Well, compliments on your entrance, a real show-stopper. Can we leave as soon as possible? I'm quite ready to quit this place."

"Adonis Prynn, you say? Who in blazes in Adonis Prynn?"

The Mandalorian leaned past her to glance at the Baron, who had been the one to repeat the name.
He slapped his own helmet, and glanced at a frowning Harper.

"I probably shouldn't have said his name," he explained.

The grin slowly returned to the Baron's face. He stood and straightened, the old arrogance flooding back in.

"No, my boy, you-"

A bright red blaster bolt struck him square in the chest.
After a moment of shock, he fell to the ground.

The Mandalorian nodded, satisfied with the shot. In what he thought would be a cool flourish, he blew the smoke off the end of his pistol, but as he was wearing a helmet, it did nothing.
He turned to Harper, who stood stunned, watching with a complicated mix of emotions as the Baron lay motionless a few feet away.

"Well," Cambry sighed. "That's four bodies. Four bodies is pretty bad. I've heard this town loves its law and order."

"Law and order indeed. What it loves is protecting the wealthy. Like that terrible man you just shot."

"Right. I mean, that doesn't change what I was saying. I just shot him. We should leave right now."

"Naturally. Just one moment."

Harper marched over to the man's body and spat in his face. Then she turned, apparently cheered up, and raised an intrigued eyebrow at her strange new ally.

"After you, then, mister..." She trailed off, expecting him to introduce himself.

"Oh, uh. I'll tell you once we put some distance between this and us."

She saw the sense in that.
The two stole away into the dark of the alley, fleeing the scene of the crime with haste. Once away, Cambry wiped his gloved hand on his suit, and extended it half-heartedly.

"I'm Cambry Owens."

Harper, with a glance at the stains on his glove, shook it briefly. "Harper Caale. A pleasure."

"Okay."

Cambry locked his focus back in on escaping. They slipped through the alleys between tall stone-brick buildings, keeping to the dark as much as they could. Cambry darted his head around at any movement or sound, finger twitching just off the trigger of his pistol.

Harper caught up to him at a darkened corner, a little annoyed that he was moving so briskly. This was her city of residence, she felt no need to slink and hide in the gutters.

"I shall need to return home to my family's villa in the Cloud Court Gardens," she said matter-of-factly. "I have a traveling bag prepared and waiting for me."

"What?"

He'd mostly avoided looking at her so far, as it made him uncomfortable, but now Cambry glanced back at her in alarm.

"No," he shook his head. "We can't do that. That's a terrible idea, lady. Er…miss. We've got to get to the ship, security will be hoppin' in minutes."

Harper frowned as they continued their jog. She didn't like it, but she understood the urgency. "I suppose I must make do." She was silent for a moment. "What is Spymaster Prynn like in person, then? Or have you only spoken to him via letter, as I have?"

"He's cool," Cambry replied shortly, and he seemed to think this description was adequate.

Harper scoffed, and the corner of her mouth wrinkled into an ironic smile—a common expression of hers. She cast a raised eyebrow in his direction.

"'Cool'. Very good...And?"

"He's, uh, a human. Man? Dark skin. His hair is white."

"Continue naming his physical traits, that's just what I was wanting. What is his height?"

"Um, he's not really tall, but not that short either..."

"Oh moons," Harper stopped herself from hitting him. "Please stop. I was joking."

Cambry threw up his hands and glanced back at her for a very brief moment. "I don't know what you want from me."

"Aren't you a strange one? I must admit, I've never met anyone like you. It's like you've never spoken to a person in your life. Tell me, have you ever spoken to another person before?"

"Uh, yeah. Of course I have." Cambry racked his brain, while glancing behind to see if they were being followed. They weren't. He wished they were, then he could stop talking. "I've talked to...Adonis, obviously. I've talked to other people before, too." Even he knew that was weak. "Gang members. Employers. I used to have a droid I talked to all the time."

Harper watched him like he was an amusing toy. Her smile, which was in fairness somewhat condescending, grew wider.

"Oh, beg my pardon. I'm certain your droid made for stimulating conversation. I'm sure you engaged in a sparkling exchange of wit."

" Look, get off my case. He could talk. He was rude, but you take what you can get when you're on the run. So what, anyway? People are rude too. But he could talk."

"Yes, I'm sure he could. How lovely." She said it in a light, casual way, as though the words cost her no energy to say, just tossed out on the wind. "I've heard of your kind, Mandalorians. Great warriors, yes? Quite mysterious?"

"I mean, I wouldn't say that." He scratched at the neck seal under his helmet, where an itch was building. "Could you stop with the questions? We're running from security, can you pay attention to that instead?"
His bluntness surprised her and made her laugh, but she decided to honor his request and relent. She reasoned that she could always start again later if an opportunity appeared. "My apologies, gentle sir. I don't mean to seem ungrateful. Are we quite close to your ship, now?"

They returned to the landing pad where they'd paid exorbitant fees to legally park the Silver Starmark. They didn't have much of a choice, it was best not to draw attention. Besides, Cambry sensed that Adonis was not short on credits. Now that Harper was a part of things, his two companions seemed to have that common.

Cambry got Harper on board, and she began to peer around the ship at every minute detail, somehow excited about all of it.

"It's just a ship," Cambry said lamely.

"There's never been 'just a ship' manufactured anywhere in the galaxy, Mr. Owens," she replied.

It took a worringly long time for Adonis to join them, but he came bustling up the ramp in due course, his data pad clutched under his arm.
Cambry fell in beside him as he made his way up.

"Get everything you came for?"

"And then some, my boy. Canto Bight is a veritible gold mine of useful information, and people too high up on the corporate ladder to deign to look down. Even if soeone is picking their purse from underneath. Ah! By the Force, you must be Miss Harper Caale."

A confident smile took its place at Harper's mouth. "Mr. Prynn, I presume? Our communiques have been a delight. I'm very much looking forward to working with you in person."

Adonis smiled with an easy dignity. "The pleasure is all mine, I assure you. Our ship is far brighter with you aboard. Thank you for coming. I'm sure you've already met Cambry Owens."

Her eyes flashed at him, as did her grin. "I have. Utterly peculiar man."

Cambry watched, arms crossed. They were like two siggs in a sackpod. All fancy talk and 'grace' and 'not saying whatever pops into their heads'. Elitists.

"Cambry, well done."

He startled. "Huh?"

Adonis had turned the smile on him. "Well done. Miss Caale seems none the worse for wear, and we don't appear to have been followed. You accomplished your mission with aplomb. Not that I expected anything less."

Cambry's prior resentment seemed to disappear. He could swear he felt his face flush under his helmet. "Oh, yeah. Sure. You're welcome."
If he had to think about it, he wasn't sure when the last time was that one of his bosses congratulated him on a job well done. It's not the kind of thing you ask to hear, but he wasn't complaining. But no resting on laurels.
"Uh, that said, I did leave a few bodies back there. We should get while the getting's good." He pulled uncomfortably at his collar, underneath his helmet. "I think I might have killed a count."

Ten minutes later, six Canto Bight police officers arrived at the crime scene several blocks away, where they cordoned off the area and shooed away a gaggle of staring passersby.
Despite the recent influx of money from the UniStar Conglomerate, none of it went towards the bottom rung officers, who were much better at hauling away drunks and the less-liquid con artists – the ones who couldn't pay them off. No, the UniStar money that didn't make it into the constable's pockets went to things like hiring the very best investigators, and it would be a few more minutes before such an investigator arrived.
The six officers looked at each other, sighed, and set about securing the scene.
This kind of crime, one that was public and violent, was the very worst kind of thing that could happen on your shift. The CBPD existed to maintain an illusion of complete safety for the city's residents. It was their one goal.
They found four victims, recently assaulted. Although nothing had been taken, it was easier to just mark this sort of thing as a mugging on the paperwork. Out of all the reasons to spill blood in Canto Bight, money made the most sense. The main priority was to sweep the crime under the rug and get it out of the public eye, so they hurried to move the bodies into a CBPD speeder.
There was a shout from one of the officers, and a medkit was quickly ferried over. One of the four victims, it seems, was not dead after all; hidden under his waistcoat was a Seraphan DuraSkin Panel, a low-profile and extremely expensive piece of armor that, while now ruined by a direct hit, had saved the wearer's life. A stim and a shock later, the Baron Bocard was conscious, disheveled, and helped to his feet by two officers of the law. Though disoriented from his brief bout of unconsciousness, he seethed and ranted, spitting venom at anyone nearby. This sort of treatment was standard. The highborn types, new money or old, are always shocked when anyone does anything to burst their bubble. Regardless, the police were well-paid to reinforce patrons' belief in their own invincibility, so they provided the usual assurances: they would take care of everything, find his assailants, and ensure the full extent of justice rained down upon them. The Baron said only one thing clearly; a name. They thought it was likely from shock. The name certainly didn't mean anything to any of them. Those details were for the detective. But it seemed the Baron could focus on nothing else.

"Adonis Prynn," he repeated. "I will find Adonis Prynn."

Elsewhere, Cambry had an itch he couldn't quite scratch.

Cambry Owens

Harper Caale

Adonis Prynn