The Knight's Move

With his free right hand, Kanta pulled the goggles off his eyes, while his left forced the Sand Speeder into a gentle left turn, before it came to a halt. The sandstorm was getting progressively worse, but Kanta has reached his target, so the weather was no bother to him anymore. Next to a bunch of rough-looking vehicles, his old and rusty Speeder would pull little attention, while he did his little trade.

By the Cantina's door, two figures were leaning on the walls, having an conversation in a language Kanta didn't understand, but it sounded like some local dialect of huttese. They gave Kanta an angry stare as he passed between them to enter the Cantina. Once inside, the noise of whistling wind and rustling sand disappeared, leaving just enough space for the catchy melody from the Jukebox. A Twi'lek danced from table to table, serving drinks and easing her spectators wallets. Kanta's contact, once a proud aristocrat on the upper levels of Coruscant, now always scouring the dirtiest dumps in the galaxy for a quick buck, was sitting at a table near the counter. When Kanta approached him, he slammed his drink onto the table.

"You're late, Selogia."

"I'm here", Kanta corrected. "You got my parts?"

"Have a seat." The contact pointed to a chair on the opposite side of the table, but Kanta declined.

"I'd rather get this over with quickly."

The salvager sighed, then he reached for his pocket and dropped a tied up package on the table. It was impossible to tell, what was inside.

"Is that it?" Kanta inquired.

"It's what you asked for. An atmospheric stabilizer, long off the record, as far as the Empire is concerned."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Kanta frowned.

"Well, these are expensive. Just because the Empire isn't looking for it, doesn't mean nobody is."

"Is there something, you might want to tell me?" Kanta crossed his arms before his chest, an eyebrow raised. He noticed how his contact's eyes wandered past his head and to someone behind his back.

"We've got company." the salvager whispered, quickly reaching for the package still openly displayed. Kanta was quicker and vanished it in his jacket, just when he heard the heavy boots and the mechanical breathing of stormtrooper helmets. By the sound, it was three right behind him and another one by the door.

"What was that?"

"He's talking to you, old man."

"Let's see your identification. Both of you!"

Kanta cursed internally. The salvager gave him a challenging look, urging him to do something. The trooper nearest Kanta's back laid his dark glove on the pilot's shoulder, and when he pulled him around, Kanta drew and fired.

The first shot hit the guy by the door right in the head, the second one took the one to Kanta's left off his feet. For a third shot there was no time. Instead he put all his body weight into a lunge forward, simply tackling the trooper to the ground. The last one managed to raise his weapon, but Kanta kicked it from his hand, with a series of punches to the head to come. Before the pilot was able to escape, trooper number three grabbed him by the foot, but Kanta spun around, kicking the laying trooper in the head. Now, before someone was able to raise a hand, he jumped over the dead body and out into the desert, where a sand storm was still ravaging the endless dunes.

Without another look back he jumped onto his speeder, flicked the power on and disappeared in the dense clouds. The Stabilizer was secure in his pocket.