[S4 - Cantonica - NR3F] If you give a Duro a Potato

On the glittering planet of Cantonica, in the opulent, but seedy city of Canto Bight, former searcher Jal Mes and NR3F intel ops Kleedo Westo meet with the shady, but powerful Edvik van Xorran. Kleedo Westo has been tracking Mr. van Xorran’s dealings and has uncovered a connection with the evil Greater Maldrood. The famed Emerald of Viidaav was stolen a few weeks ago - is this the doings of the Greater Maldrood?

A Former Searcher’s Journal:

[Translated from the Durese]

Well, I’m finally back in the field! It seems however that the Foundation’s definition of a field is a restaurant on Cantonica. I have been tasked with retrieving the famed Emerald of Viidaav and helping the New Republic find out as much about the Greater Maldrood’s intentions on Viidaav. To be honest, I’m thankful to get a good meal as I have been living on instant spacer’s curry, discount meals from Bantha Burgers, and these weird packaged blue things that I’m not sure if they constitute food or not. I suppose, I shall have to learn some real homestyle Durese cooking when I get back to Batuu; I have a few recipes saved from a cookbook the Searchers had.

Jal sat in a plush seat. Although the borrowed suit was nice-looking and rather fitting for the occasion, the material was incredibly itchy. Nevermind that. Opposite him sat Mr. van Xorran, a rather dashing Klatooinian with a satin jacket and tie. Additionally, there was Kleedo Westo, the dapper Rodian representative of the New Republic Third Fleet.  His face looked rather similar to Dr. Quibbles and much more pleasant than his colleague Harnabus Clod’s face at any rate. However Harnabus Clod was trustworthy though and Dr. Quibbles had questionable morals. So maybe that was something or perhaps he was correlating things in a nonsensical manner. The meeting had been scheduled two weeks prior by Dr. Ramm who’d been approached by Kleedo Westo, who had been trailing . This fine fellow had something of great value and Jal's job was to get it back. 

„I beg your pardon, what’s your name again?“

„Mes, Jal Mes,“ the duro replied. The Klatooinian looked a little confused, non-durese speakers always had trouble with his first name. This is why he liked Tolli, he didn’t have this problem with her. The well-dressed Klatooinian shrugged that off. 

„Well, Mr. Mes, it’s a pleasure meeting you. I hear you were formerly a Searcher, no?“

„Yes, Mr. van Xorran, but I’ve parted with the monks.“

Mr. van Xorran scratched his snout-like nose and raised his eyebrow, waiting for a response. He seemed reluctant to trust Jal. Jal tried to mimic the motion, but forgot once again a rather simple fact: he had neither eyebrows to rise nor a nose to scratch. Now to think of it, how did he pronounce his last name without a nose? This was not the time for such a thought Jal reminded himself. Thankfully, Kleedo spoke up. „Mr. van Xorran, it is good to meet you finally.” 

„Indeed, Mr. Westo. You represent the Sorosuub corporation here, do you not?

“Yes, Mr. van Xorran,” the Rodian replied. 

The waiter chose this exact moment to appear and ask for their drinks. Typically Jal drank exclusively Leivaks, a Durese drink similar to what some humans called tea, made from the zhoguum leaf and deigoks powder. He doubted that they’d have it here. Mr. van Xorran ordered the house wine and offered to split the bottle with Jal. He accepted despite not knowing what it was.. 

„Now to Business Mr. Mes,“ the Klatooinian said as they waited for the wine. „I received your inquiry about the Emerald of Viidaav. I do not have it. However, I am aware of the Greater Maldrood’s mining operations. After all, Viidaav is in their backyard.“

„Is that so,“ Jal replied. “Well, the Viidaavi do miss their emerald I’m sure.”

“I would expect so,” Mr. van Xorran said. “It is quite beautiful after all.”

“You seem to know a fair bit about this emerald, sir,” the Rodian said.

“Oh,” Mr. van Xorran replied hastily with a quick laugh. “I don’t know too much I’m afraid, but I have seen it.”

"Recently?" Jal asked.

"Perhaps," Mr. van Xorran shrugged.

The wine still hadn’t arrived and it had been twenty minutes. That didn’t bother Jal too much. However, the way the negotiations were going was rather worrisome. It seemed that Mr. van Xorran wasn’t going to budge. Jal suspected that he had some part in the theft. Perhaps he would be more amicable after the wine and appetizers arrived?  

“Well, if I might be so bold gentlemen, what interest does Sorosuub and an ex-monk have in Viidaav? Granted you aren’t the only ones interested in Viidaav, what with the CLA and the Greater Maldrood.”

“The CLA?” Jal asked.

“Oh, yes. You aren’t the only ones with unique intel on Viidaav. I’ve heard that the Coalition of Liberated Arms has a stake in this affair too.”

“Well, Mr. van Xorran, what do you know about the Greater Maldrood and their interests in the region,” Kleedo asked. “Our customers at Sorosuub have an interest in this galaxy too. We can’t sell luxury starships to beings such as yourself without garanties of rogue remnants battering our customers!”

“You make an excellent point, Mr. Westo. You know I am a loyal customer of Sorosuub, thus I shall tell you a little something. Now, old man Mr. Treuten Teradoc’s always had an appreciation for the finer things. Additionally, as a remnant leader, he must want greater control of his territory. And naturally the mining industry is always lucrative.”

“So, you do know something about the emerald!” Jal accused, tired of dancing around the issue. Kleedo looked slightly disappointed in the Duro. 

“And what does it mean to you if I have seen it or know a little of it?” Mr. van Xorran asked.

“Well,” Jal said, gulping. “I’m - I’m, uh a kresimu. So, uh, naturally I have an interest in artifacts such as this.”

“Kresimu?” Mr. van Xorran asked. “I don’t think I’ve heard of such a position before.”

“What, Mr. Mes - traveller means to say, is that he’s a researcher concerned about the affects of the Greater Maldrood on the artifacts that the Viidaavi might hold dear.”

Mr. van Xorran scoffed. “I dare say, the emerald is the only thing of worth there.” 

“No, it’s not!” Jal interjected. He was tired of this man. Of course the emerald wasn’t the only thing of worth. There were plenty of minerals on Viidaav and Jal suspected this man was an investor in such a venture. Kedaam! Jal feared his gaarocu might go off. It was an internal organ that releases a stench so powerful it could ward off the fiercest enemies. While that was useful, it would make things significantly worse. Last time he’d accidentally let it go off, the person never spoke to him because the stench was so bad. Granted, Jal didn’t like them so there were no downsides other than needing to do laundry. But here, it could ruin the whole deal.

“Oh, you were probably going to bore me with Viidaavi art then!?”

“No,” Jal said, a little crestfallen. Viidaavi art was actually quite fascinating, but he forgot that not everyone is appreciative of art or culture. 

„I see, I should apologize then. What with all this talk, I hope you gentlemen still have an appetite. I know I do.“

„Vun kadog ilad!“ Jal said eagerly. Mr. van Xorran looked at him strangely. Did he say that accidentally in Durese? Should he say anything else? 

„I’ll take take that as a yes, Mr. Mes,“

Under his breath the Klatooinian said, „Growing up with monks has made him rocka-rocka.“

Kleedo Westo feigned a laugh at Mr. van Xorran’s comment.He’d said it in Durese. Again. This couldn’t get any worse. Now he was stressed, which was bad. Jal had been in many stressful situations before. Spiders, mad scientists, and possessed relics he could handle, but this, not really. 

„Think the wine will come?“ Jal said, impatiently.

„All in good time, Mr. Mes,“ Mr. van Xorran replied. The Klatooinian craned his neck and gave a slight smile. The waiter had returned with the wine, which he placed on the table. He poured the wine filling each glass half-way. Mr. van Xorran handed one glass to Jal. It tasted ok, he supposed. But really, where were the appetizers? Jal was very hungry. Mr. van Xorran was clearly enjoying his wine. 

„Now, now Mr. Mes, I do apologize. It appears we can’t reach an amicable agreement concerning Viidaav. However, Mr. Westo and I could talk Sorosuub business. I do know several contractors afterall.”

„Perhaps after appetizers? Jal said hopefully. 

„Perchance,“ Mr. van Xorran said with a twinkle of his eye. At that moment the waiter showed up with the appetizers. 

“Can I take your order Mr. van Xorran and that of your guest?”

“Indeed, the special please,” Mr. van Xorran asked. “Oh, for Mr. Mes. I and Mr. Westo will take the bantha leg, if it’s no trouble.”

“It is none, Mr. van Xorran, our establishment appreciates your patronage,” the waiter replied with a slight bow.

Jal was about to protest, but the gentleklatooinian brushed him off. 

“You don’t know fine dining like I do Mr. Mes. I promise the special here is exquisite.”

“I concur. The food here is excellent, but for you Mr. Mes, I would really recommend something else really…” Kleedo Westo said.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous Mr. Westo! I’ve only seen you here once. I come here every week!” 

Jal wanted to say something about how good his mother’s cooking had been, but Mr. van Xorran began droning on about something useless that he probably wouldn’t know a thing about. And he didn’t seem good at this spy work anyways. Kleedo Westo thankfully paid attention to Mr. van Xorran’s talk. From it, he surmised that he had several dealings with weapons manufacturers and contractors. Potentially, these were supplying the greater Maldrood with weapons. He was sure the Maldrood were actually mining on Viidaav based on Mr. van Xorran’s personal interest in mining. Westo tried to play it up as if he could help Mr. van Xorran with his investments. 

Finally the waiter returned with their meals, and some more wine. Jal wasn’t sure what the meal was, but it looked delicious. Sort of round and golden yellow. It had a soft texture. And the sauce was very rich. Jal was so absorbed in consuming this new culinary delight that he was rather startled when looked up. The Klatooinian was doing an elaborate dance of some sort. The rest of the restaurant were playing instruments as Mr. van Xorran began to sing. They were honestly too loud, though he supposed it was a nice song. He looked down at his plate, the golden yellow round objects were replaced with saavadnu, a rich Durese bantha curry. He could taste it already. It’d been a long time since he’d had proper Durese food. But wait, he hadn’t been eating saa! His stomach began to ache.

He could feel his gaarocu beginning to secret nasty tasting oils and scent meant to scare off predators. Was the Klatooinian going to eat him?! Then,  things began to spin. Why when things got weird, did it always involve spinning? Faster and faster. Jal's skin began to turn from a light blue to a sickly green and then to yellow. Yellow! Oh dear, Queen Rana this was bad! he couldn’t possibly be yellow! He tried to stand up and immediately collapsed and began writhing on the floor. Pressure was building up inside him. The scent was released! Normally, Duros weren’t supposed to be able to smell the oils secreted when under duress as their olfactory organ beneath their eyes filtered it out. Apparently whatever Jal had eaten has soon to be otherwise. Oh, Karabast! Phew. That was bad. Did he really smell like this? Please don’t eat me! But apparently there was something even more dangerous than the ancient monsters of Duro, the humble potato. Then, everything went to darkness. 

Jal lay slumped on the ground. Thankfully, his skin wasn’t yellow - it was still blue - not that the Duro knew that. The room did in fact smell terrible and many restaurant patrons were running for the doors. Mr. van Xorran remained calmly in his seat and drained the last dregs of his wine glass. 

“Well, now that he’s taken care, Mr. Westo, I must say I’m declined to do business with you any longer.”

“How come?” the Rodian asked. Sensing some danger, he pushed his chair out and stood up. “I suppose that confirms what I assumed of you, Mr. van Xorran.”

“Alright, I do have it. Mr. Mes deduced that easily enough,” Mr. van Xorran. “It would be rude of me to lie to a being I’m going to kill. I know you’re not a representative of Sorosuub.” 

With that, both Mr. van Xorran and the waiter both pulled out blasters. For a tiny instance, Kleedo Westo saw a hint of shiny green on Mr. van Xorran’s golden armband. Could it be a shard of the emerald? 

“I’m afraid, this is the end, Mr. Westo.”