...
It's a time for reflection
"It's not easy on the frontier," says Doon, who is smoking something exotic. "You have to make your own way out here. The pampered merchants of the Inner Worlds; the worthless, stunted worms of the Trade Federation, Techno Union, Banking Clans and the rest; the insidious slugs of the Hutts. They don't know anything about real life. They strut around with their petty power games and politics and think they know something about control. They see their world in numbers and reports, and they have no idea how to live. Only people like us know that.
"The Galaxy cuts us no breaks. We don't ask to be given all we need. We fight for it and we take it and we MAKE things work for us. The Jedi think they have it tough keeping order in the Inner Worlds. HAH! Just living for a day out here is more of a challenge than they can imagine in their lifetimes. We face problems and threats that would turn their heads inside out. We've stared into the jaws of death so many times, we've counted all the teeth. You've had your lives and your stories, I know. I've had mine too. Galder, Takuan, Rah, you've been to the edge of existence and back; stared into ancient secrets that less than one in a billion still have any clue about. Rand, Rianna, Tanic, your lives have been nothing but incident. Each of you should have died at a thousand points on that journey, just as I should have done during mine. One thing we have in common- we are all of us survivors.
"But if the Bureau teaches us one thing, it is that it is not enough to just survive any more. That road has come to an end. Now we must thrive or die." He gives a smile at this point. ""Kuylen has a vision that will burn a path across reality and history for untold ages, and that destiny beckons to each of us. And all those others... they had better watch out. Because to people like us... the survivors... belongs the future.
"But still. To work."
-
Epilogue- The Graveyard
This floating bazaar in space, built into a combination of an asteroid field and huge amounts of ship debris, is home to hundreds and hundreds of traders delaing in the 'quieter' (for which read, more illegal) traffic moving betwene the inner, civilised worlds, and the outer areas where the real money is to be made. They say there isn't anything to do with a ship you cannot get here... one way or another.
"This place is a hell of a mess," says Doon. "Luckily I know my way around. I'll take Scorpio and sort out the dummy ships for you. I can tell you where to get the transponders for the switch. You can;t get themn legitimately so get them... the old-fashioned way. What we call, in the trade, 'boosting'. But make it quick- and make it quiet. A firesight will finish us off- a Bureua probe is in this sector, and any noise will attract its attention too soon. Our fighting is done for this time.
"One more hurdle, people. Then this distraction is finished with, and we can get down to business."
Yes, Galder, they would come running, especially when they studied its last few transmissions and saw your ship.
Looking around is no problem. These business sell small technical parts; all the innumerable tiny little bits and pieces without which your ships don't work worth a damn. They don't let you just stroll into the warehouse, of course.
Doon has left. Before he goes, though, he gives Tanic a second glance. He keeps doing that, Tanic. Like he recognises you from somewhere.