VIII: Lieutenant

Gavira quite liked the outcomes of having taken on Duvek’s job offer.  It wasn’t exactly a job for her; it was a challenge.  The adjustment period for her getting used to handling several hundred men and women had been short.  When a few tried to question her authority, they wound up in the medical ward.  Some got away with a few broken bones, the more belligerent ones had to be fitted for a prosthetic arm or leg after coming into contact with her lightsabers.

After those demonstrations, everyone was careful to take her seriously.

Her quarters weren’t too shabby either.  Spacious rooms with a view over a sprawling courtyard below, the jungle in the distance providing a nice screen between the estate and the Spice mining facilities.  A fleet of servants tended to her every need, though she used them sparingly.  She liked to retain a sense of independence, and having so many people waiting on her hand and foot was a little too similar to her situation with Heyx.

Gavira appreciated that Duvek didn’t try to sugarcoat what he did.  The smell of Spice in the air and the ships coming and going with that precious cargo were a constant reminder of his business, along with the heavy amount of hired guns he needed to keep those shipments safe and himself from being killed by any rivals.

Besides acting as the lieutenant for his forces and conducting off world missions, she also split her time as Duvek’s personal bodyguard.

It was unclear when things had shifted from strictly professional to something a little more intimate, but shift they had.  When she wasn’t off directing his hired mercenaries or performing solo assassinations, he treated her like a queen.  Gavira accumulated a good many new items for her wardrobe, from expensive gowns to jewelry that would have cost a family an entire year’s wages just for one gem.  If Duvek knew anything, he knew how to pamper a woman.

She didn’t find out he had any children until a month into the gig.  Oh, she suspected he had sired some illegitimate offspring, but she didn’t think they would be working for him.

—

The evening was a mild one, warm enough for the windows in the dining hall to be opened while they dined.  A cool, wet breeze drifted in from the jungle below the estate, the smell of Spice mingling with that of the food.  It was only the two of them at the table, droid servants positioned in alcoves waiting to be summoned to serve or take away plates.  Everything set before them was cooked to perfection.  If it wasn’t, it was taken away to the kitchens and a fresh new dish brought out to replace it.  That happened rarely.  There was a running rumor among the mercs that Duvek had any chef that disappointed him cooked up and fed to his menagerie of deadly animals.  No one knew if it was true or not, but it would be in keeping with the crime lord’s temperament.

    The candles set out on the long table flickered slightly from a stronger wind that managed to filter into the room.

    “I think you’ll be happy to note that the shipment to Zeltros made it there without any problems,” Gavira said, cutting slivers of meat off of a slab of medium rare steak.  She paused to look up, a cold smile on her lips. “Let me rephrase that: without any problems to our people.  There were plenty of troubles for the pirates who tried to raid the freighter, and the little strike team sent by one of your rivals to sabotage the transfer.”

    Duvek cocked a brow at her with a chuckle.  His hand moved to rest on top of the one she had wielding the steak knife.

“Gavira, My Dear, we can discuss business later.  I’ve spent enough time going over my profits, losses, and everything in between for the day.  I haven’t seen you in days, and I would much rather enjoy your lovely presence and conversation than go on and on about the cogs running the machine.”

She felt heat come to her cheeks, and not for the first time as a reaction to something Duvek said about her.  She let go of the knife to clutch his hand, watching him lift it to his lips to kiss her knuckles.

“Keep that up and you’ll have my ego exploding,” she tittered.

“Nonsense.  You deserve all the praise that I can possibly heap upon you.  I haven’t seen my fighting forces working this well since–hmm, I suppose that this is as finely-tuned as they’ve ever been.  And it’s a delight to have you as a companion as well, which I believe is much more enthralling than–”

The doors leading to the dining chamber groaned open on their automatic hinges as a figure strode into the dimly-lit room.  Both turned to see who it was who had decided to burst in without waiting for the servants to announce him.  A flash of annoyance could be felt from Duvek that simmered just below the surface.  The interloper’s features were similar enough for Gavira to see the family resemblance between the young man and Duvek, though there were hints of what she assumed to be the mother in his pale blue eyes and softer jawline.  His hair was plaited back along his spine, the tail twitching as he walked.  He stopped short beside Duvek’s right side, snatching up the chilling wine bottle and pouring himself a glass.

“It’s done,” he said. “The Hutts have agreed to distribute your drugs, but only within a given sector.  If we try to venture outside then there’s going to be hell to pay with your competitors—who they have also made a deal with—and the Hutts have completely washed their hands of any bad blood that happens as a result of that.”

Duvek regarded his son with narrowed eyes.

“Did you tell them that we have the means to take care of our competitors if they would rather deal with one party?”

The young man swirled the wine in his glass before giving it a sniff and a sip.

“What do you think?  You know Hutts.  They’d rather set beings at each other’s throats and see who winds up on top before making a final decision.  They like seeing who has more potential instead of betting and losing”—he gestured at Gavira with his glass—“I’ve got a list of names, compounds, and trade routes you can take that little army of yours to perform some hits.  I think once those slugs see how poorly equipped your rivals are, Father, they’ll consider making this an exclusive contract.”

    Gavira could feel a chill emanating off of Duvek that had started with his son’s boisterous entrance, growing deeper the more the young man spoke.  He wasn’t happy about the turnout.  He had wanted to be the Hutts’ only go-to with Spice trading in that area of space, and his son not pushing for that was something of a disappointment in his eyes.  Gavira didn’t want to have them come to blows.  She had only just met the boy and she could appreciate his strength of character.  She felt that the young man had done all that he could, and that he would have done more if the Hutts were more willing to negotiate.  She smiled up at him.

    “That was considerate of you,” she said. “Thank you.  I’ll be sure to put it to good use.”

Duvek’s son offered her a half-smile, his attention still arrested by his sire.  He wanted approval, a “job well done” stamped out in words so he could depart feeling as if he had made his father proud.  Gavira had a feeling he would be there all night if he was trying to wring that out of the man.  Duvek’s fingers tapped out a rhythm on the glossy table, his other continued to stroke the back of Gavira’s hand.

    “Aorum.”

“Yes, Father?” the young man inquired, keeping his tone uninterested, though his Force aura said otherwise.

    “You want to see me happy about this whole situation?”

“...Yes.”

Duvek’s tone grew icy.

“Then you will go back to the Hutts and demand that they tear up their contract with the other party; they trade with us exclusively or they trade with no one at all.  If they think that they can play organizations against each other, then we will wipe them out or absorb them so that they will have no other choice but to deal with us.  We can either make this a painful process for them or a beneficial one.  I would prefer it if they were smart about this matter, as it will save a lot of credits, and our rivals a lot of lives that will otherwise be wasted in a futile turf war.”

    Duvek released a heavy breath through his nose, all the while keeping his eyes locked on his son.

“Don’t return until you have secured that deal.  Am I being perfectly clear?”

Gavira saw Aorum’s throat move as he swallowed, still trying to appear unrattled by his father’s chilly reception.

“I won’t disappoint you, Father,” the young man said earnestly.

Duvek smiled at his son, but there was no warmth in it as he stared him down.

“See that you don’t, Aorum.  I have no room for disappointments in this family, as you well know.”

Gavira flicked her eyes at the crime lord, arching a brow.  It wasn’t unheard of for prestigious families such as this one to cast out children that didn’t measure up.  It had, after all, happened with her, albeit, at the hands of her former husband instead of her parents.

But Duvek was a crime lord, and their methods of dealing with offspring that were unable to perform often meant a more firm-handed solution.  More than likely, he would disown them and force them to fend for themselves or die trying.  She would have to ask him about that later.  If that was the case then she would see about changing his mind and finding a better alternative to cutting off his children.  Not only was it a waste, but it cut her deeply knowing someone who had overabundant children could so casually toss them aside when she herself had been denied any of her own.

She would keep an eye on this Aorum.

The young man finished his glass, setting it gently on the table and offering his father a casual bow at the waist before departing.  Duvek remained tense the entire time until the doors sealed shut behind his progeny.  He turned back to Gavira with a sigh.

    “I would like to apologize on behalf of my son.  He really ought to know better than to barge in unannounced and expect a warm welcome.”

    Gavira gave his hand a squeeze as she tilted her head on her shoulder.

“I didn’t mind.  It seems that I know much about Duvek Kasteele, but next to nothing about his children.”

    “That’s because most of them aren’t worth mentioning,” Duvek snorted, picking up his son’s discarded wine glass and squinting at the dregs at the bottom. “I didn’t plan on Aorum being the first one for you to meet.  He walks a fine line between making me proud and disgracing the family name.”

    “He felt like he was doing his best.”

“Don’t defend him,” Duvek snapped, lifting his eyes from the glass to fix them on her. “He knows he failed, and he was hoping that I would pardon his mistakes instead of slapping him on the wrist.  He needs to earn my respect instead of begging for it.”

    It was Gavira’s turn to grow rigid at the sudden shift in Duvek’s tone.  A red-hot anger flared up from him, one she knew all too well from her past experiences.  The fact that it was directed at his son bothered her.  He didn’t seem to understand part of the reason for her reaction as his expression softened and he once again lifted her hand to kiss it.

    “I didn’t mean to blow up at you, Love.  You must understand that the rigors of this business sometimes get to me and nettle me endlessly.  A negotiation as big as the one I sent for my son to arrange warrants the same level of frustration for him only seeing it through halfway.”

    Heyx would have shifted the blame on her and let her believe she was the root of his problems.  Gavira was relieved to note that Duvek knew where the blame lay, even if it still made her uneasy for Aorum’s sake.  She laid a hand on his cheek, shifting nearer towards him.

    “I know,” she said, moving close enough to press her lips to his jawline. “Maybe I can distract you from some of that.”

    “I don’t believe that I’m in the right frame of mind–”

“I managed to capture a Jedi on the way back here,” Gavira interrupted, drawing back so that Duvek could see the cruel delight in her eyes. “And I do know how you love a challenging hunt.”

    That brought a genuine smile to his face.

“Yes, that ought to cheer me up.”