A brief sensor sweep proved that the warehouse was empty, and the area around it was quiet. But the neighborhood wasn’t abandoned. Security droids patrolled the area around a warehouse to the northwest, unconcerned so long as nothing approached the building they protected.
Pedestrians, gang members, and more walked by the warehouses themselves at the edge of sensor range. None were in a hurry, but almost all of them were armed in one way or another. But no one gave Charkarr and her companions a single glance as Guv Gnul let the trio along the maze of alleys and narrow roads between buildings.
Eventually, the walk brought them to a main thoroughfare that ran between one of the city districts and the main spaceport. Pedestrian traffic was sparse at that time of day, with only one or two people who even bothered to notice the two droids with the Ugnaught.
Guv Gnul’s path was along the main walkway, then along a side road for the support services and businesses for the spaceport. The hum of respulsorlift vehicles shuttling around the area filled the air with steam and other exhaust.
The Ugnaught stopped at a bare, nondescript door a block away from the traditional “Spacer’s Row” of typical supply shops and eateries off the spaceport. Guv tapped the keypad to announce the group’s presence.
A beep of a quick scan later, the door snapped open and they headed inside.
Down a short hall and into a main room, the interior was a frozen tornado of parts and tools scattered across wall hooks and shelves. In the center of the chaos was a thin, pale human dressed in combat boots, shorts, stained t-shirt that read ‘Derf Rules’ in large black letters, and a battered technician’s vest.
Guv stopped short of offering a hand but simply folded his arms over his chest.
“Snachir,” the Ugnaught said. It was as friendly as anything Guv had uttered any time in Charkarr’s presence.
The human wiped his hands on his vest, then offered a lopsided smile.
“Guv! Good to see you.” His eyes slid to the two droids behind the Ugnaught, then back. “Not a social call, then? You don’t travel with droids much. What’s going on?”
“Tose stumbled over something sensitive and left it with Spudnik and his friend Charkarr. Lost cargo. These two might have trackers on them, certainly on a data chip they carry. I know you can get it off them and help us get an idea of what Tose found.”
Snachir fidgeted in alarm.
“You brought them here? With trackers in them? Frak, Guv! You got a bolt loose?”
The outlaw tech started to pace and run his hand through his unruly curly hair.
“It’s short range at best. Otherwise I wouldn’t have brought them. But there isn’t much time. You are the best, so you can disable the trackers.” Guv said in a flat tone. “I have spoken.”
The last phrase brought Snachir to a stop.
“Yeah, you’ve spoken all right,” Sanchir groused. “You owe me for this, Guv. I mean really.”
The outlaw tech turned to face Charkarr and Spudnik.
“Ok, tell me quick what’s ailing you. Either of you know what trackers you’ve got? I figure it’s subtle, otherwise you probably would’ve shook them loose yourselves.”
