Star Wars: Rebel Rising(71)
The communicator, obviously, had a tracker in it. Jyn popped it open, pulled out the tracking device, and left that in her apartment. She kept the comlink in her pocket. Just in case.
Every day, when the lights blinked to indicate a change in the twelve-hour shifts, Jyn walked around the station. She kept her eyes and ears open. She wanted to know who had ships, who was looking for off-station work, who was going where. The second Commander Solange gave her clearance, Jyn was leaving Five Points for good. She’d be happy never to visit another station in her life.
She always circled back through the park in the center of the station. She watched the beggars, their palms open on their knees. She had more credits clinking in her hidden pocket now, but she didn’t share them. Instead, she waited.
“Seat taken?” a man asked, indicating the bench Jyn sat on.
She shook her head.
“I’ve seen you here before,” the man said.
Jyn tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “You have?”
He nodded. If Jyn had to guess, he was about ten years her senior, with rough knuckles that indicated he used his fists often. “Pretty little thing,” he said in a lower voice, leaning closer to Jyn.
She didn’t move away.
“Why don’t you come back with me?” the man asked. He jerked his head toward the wall. “I’ve got a little place nearby. Shift’s about to change out.”
“No, thank you,” Jyn said in as neutral a tone as she could.
The man’s eyes narrowed. “You waiting on someone?”
Jyn looked around the park. There was no one there but the beggars. “No,” she said.
“So have a bit of fun.”
Jyn pressed her lips together and shook her head again.
“What, you’re too good for me?” the man asked.
Jyn held her hands primly in her lap and stared straight ahead.
“Fine,” the man spat out, standing. “Coldhearted Kath,” he muttered under his breath as he stormed off.
Jyn counted to a hundred in her mind. When the man didn’t return, she stood up and crossed the path to where a Huloon youngling crouched in supplication. She tossed the credits she’d picked from the man’s pocket into the Huloon’s outstretched hands and left the park.
The evenings she spent in Moeseffa’s Cantina. It was a little more upscale than the inn at which she’d spent her first night, but it was also a favorite among the people who used Five Points as a base of operations. The five planets of the system circled a single star, and the space station was positioned in the gap between Rumitaka and Satotai, making it an ideal location to reach all five with relative ease. Each planet supported life, had various minerals, and had its own loose governing system, although their power was ostensibly curtailed by the Empire. Trade was frequent, both between planets and with other systems, and everything came through the Five Points station eventually.
And it seemed everything came through Moeseffa’s Cantina as well.
Jyn’s practice was to go early, about two hours before the end of the day shift, and stay at least two hours into the night shift. She’d order a large blue mappa, a weak drink even before Moeseffa’s crew watered it down, and sip on it for as long as possible. She kept to herself, with her scarf pulled over her head, and usually she was ignored. The few men and women who’d approached her had been able to tell early on that Jyn wasn’t interested in them, and Moeseffa himself had taken a liking to his new young regular, who tipped well and never caused trouble.
The table between the door and the mini holo entertainment was the perfect spot, quiet enough that Jyn could hear people talking but distracting enough that few noticed her listening. Their eyes slid over Jyn, lingering in the shadows, to the meter-tall projections of an apparently popular band led by an attractive female Fryiaan. She was a better dancer than singer, using all four of her arms to her advantage, and Jyn appreciated just how distracting the holo was to the other patrons.
“Watassay’s mining is picking up,” a man said, chugging a glass of something brown and rank. “The Empire’s put in a bid for the central mining system.”
“Joynder will never sell to the Empire,” his companion said.
Jyn snorted quietly into her glass.
“What’s the Empire need all the mines for anyway?” the first man said, glowering at his empty glass. He beat it on the table until Moeseffa came by to refill it. “They’ve got enough ore now to build a fleet of ships, but no war to fight with them.”
“Maybe they’re building more stations like this one?” his quieter companion mused.
Jyn’s gaze slid around the room as the day shift ended and the old drunks left to make room for the new ones. A couple near the window, an Espirion male and a human woman, spoke in low voices.
“My client is looking for something rare, an item used during the Clone Wars,” the woman said in a soft voice.
The Espirion responded, muttering so low that Jyn couldn’t hear him.
The woman snorted. “Credits are no object.”
Jyn always paid attention when it came to jobs. Something with enough pay—or a ship big enough to hide her—and Jyn could leave whether Commander Solange “allowed” it or not. She suspected that’s what she’d ultimately have to do. Commander Solange would never easily let go of her little forger.