Work Text:
The shop was very cramped. Kallus had seen some of his men forced to duck in order to walk through the doorframes.
But, considering that the storeowner was an Ortolan, the size was sensical.
“You say you suspect insurgents to lurk these parts?” The man asked the storeowner, busying himself with rewiring some bizarre instrument he had never seen.
The small blue alien nodded, not once looking away from his work. He pinched the string he was currently working on, letting it hum a tune through the air.“Yes.” He said, adding tension to the string and pinching it again. “They used the back alley, I believe. A lasat trampled my latest order of bassons five days ago. Over five thousand credits I’m not getting back.” He muttered irritably, finally satisfied with the tuning of the string. The instrument chirped a soft melody as the Ortolan strummed it, seemingly correctly accorded now.
“Is that so? Was this the only time?” unidentifiable sounds could be heard through the walls. Kallus ignored it. This was an instrument shop; noise was to be expected.
The blue alien frowned. “No! Just yesterday, they used it again and made this poor mandolin’s crate fall over. Bust the sound holes wide open.” The storeowner replied, unpleased as he presented another instrument to the imperial. The strawberry blonde raided a brow. Indeed, the instrument was merely recognisable with a large part of its bottom splinteted. If the Ortolan had not told him what it was, he would of not been able to guess.
“I see.” The man noted after a pause. “Thank you for your partonage, sir. We will reinforce our guards here and, of course, transfer you the rewarded payment for your cooperation.” The Ortolan nodded, appearing content.
Kallus turned to leave when one the owner’s large ears perked faintly. “Someone’s using the Keyhammer.” The shop owner said, rounding his little eyes in stupefaction. Kallus listened more closely to the hum radiating through the shop’s thin walls. Now that he was actually listening, the noise undeniably came from a keyhammer.
“It seems so.” The human clasped his hands behind his back, turning to leave once more. He stopped, however, as the alien had suddenly stood from his chair, discarding the instrument he was tuning onto his workbench.
“Sir, where are you going?” Kallus called, puzzled. The automatic door slid open, amplifying the instrument’s melody in the small workshop.
“To see it played with my own eyes.” He replied, walking through the doorframe. Kallus followed. “I’ve had that old thing for years and no one touched it in the same amount.” He led the imperial through a narrow corridor where insulation panels were neatly bolted to the walls. “You may not know this, Agent Kallus, but here in the outer rim, keyhammers aren’t the rave.” The small Ortolan muttered, flaling a chubby finger in the air. “I knew of one man in this entire system who played it, but he was old. It’s been a while since he expired.” His shoulders slumped mournfully as they reached a flight of stairs. “I ordered this Keyhammer for him, but he never came to pick it up.”
The melody of the keyhammer intensified, growing more and more complicated as they got down the stairs.
“Intriguing.” The strawberry blonde noted as the Ortolan sped off through the shop’s main display room. His pace appeared to accelerate to the keyhammer’s tempo.
Reaching a small storage room, the storeowner passed through its doorframe, completley disregarding the stormtrooper guarding it.
The armored man ignored him as well and straightened to attention as Kallus approached.
“Sir!” He saluted with a nervous edge. “we tried to refrain him from touching anything, but he pulled rank on us…” Kallus frowned.
“What are you saying- “He clamped his mouth shut as the melody abruptly changed once more, an endless arrangement of keys played so close to one another the man nearly expected the sentient playing to have more than two arms. The music became beautiful and intense.
Stepping inside the man found himself face to back to Yogar Lyste. Lacking his hat, which had been hastily discarded onto the floor a few feet away from him, he was half bent over a keyhammer, which, if if not for a fine layer of dust nestled onto its case, would have been good as new.
The Lieutenant frantically danced his bare fingers onto the instrument’s white keys with a certainty Kallus found alien of him. His arms whipped around in wide, harsh movements as if desiring to break the instrument underneath his hands. Yet, the keyhammer didn’t move an inch. One of His feet switched from pedal to pedal while the other hit the ground with his heel every now a then without a precise beat.
Banging his head forward whenever he played a strong note, he was completley ruining his usually pristine standard issure haicut, with strands breaking loose and hang over his forehead.
Kallus watched the scene unfurl in front of him in awe. The man looked positively possessed but he couldn’t look away or move for that matter. He could just stay in place and balk at the never-ending chain of notes he couldn’t believe Lyste could play with only his two hands.
The melody intensified to its summit, the lieutenant’s entire body pressing onto to the weight of his fingertips. The keyhammer was unphased by the attack, though Kallus had begun to truly believe the Lieutenant would break the instrument any second now. Then, suddenly, the melody was no more, and but a few stray notes remained.
And finally, silence.
“Impressive.” Agent Kallus’ words fell out of his mouth before he would stop them.
Whipping around, Lyste’s fingers tensed and drew a falsetto from the keyhammer.
Noticing the presence of a superior officer, the young man straightened like a picket, flushing furiously. “S-sir! I was- I’m, well- “The lieutenant bit back his words as applause filled the room. Peering to his right, Kallus noted it was the Ortolan.
“Magnificent!” the storeowner acclaimed. “Play us another one! Another one!” He chanted, completley disregarding the man’s growing embarrassment.
“B-but…” Lyste protested, rubbing his hands uselessly. He looked over to his superior officer, at loss on what to do.
“I’m afraid we do not have time, sir.” Kallus told the storeowner. His eyes remained fixated onto his lieuteneant. “Lieutenant. assemble our troops. We are done here.”
Now tasked with something to do, the raven-haired officer immediately got to it as the blue alien groaned in disappointment.
Taking out his comm, he flicked in on with a flick of his thumb.
“Assemble outside. We are leaving.” He ordered somewhat snakingly.
“You may come back to play anytime, boy!” The Ortolan called out to the lieutenant, still too embarrassed to note the rudely casual honorific. He rushed out the supply room behind Kallus and few stormtroopers in tow.
The little squad made their way outside and made quick work of climbing in the RTT. Kallus noted proudly that the entire ordeal had been done with no unnecessary delay.
It was only as the shop was far out of view Kallus turned to address the lieutenant, still a bright shade of red. “I wasn’t aware you played the keyhammer, Lieutenant.” Lyste immediately squared his shoulders, defensive.
“There was never any need to make mention of it, sir.” He murmured, reaching to adjust his hat but finding he had forgotten it at the shop.
The strawberry blonde paused, noticing the lack of hat as well. “True.” Kallus conceited. He made no mention of the missing garment.
Deeming the conversation over, the raven-haired man turned to peer out of the window. Kallus turned to do the same, without failing to note the intricate way he tapped his fingers onto his uniform.