Another cold day. His current employer had sent him on what was beginning to feel like a wild goose chase. He was to find their daughter who had run off with some smuggler who had charmed her. The last known location had been here in this particular Cantina. The smuggler was known for delivering food goods to out of the way places and according to the space-doc-droid this was his destination.
His ship that was docked at the station was clean, no one aboard, not even a droid, and no indication that they had been around for a while. Didn’t necessarily mean anything, but could be that something had happened with the delivery. The smuggler had been on planet for two weeks. Plenty long enough to make the delivery and move on, unless something went wrong.
That did not bode well for his client’s daughter. She was a high born from Corellia, Mi’asha Gorg’anna, heir to Searg Gorg’anna’s ship building factory, cousin to the Royal Monarchy, and pledged to wed a Prince from somewhere. The details were trivial; the pay for returning her safely was the only draw to this bounty. The reward was big enough that he would not have to work another day if he so chose. Debts paid, houses and ships purchased, a company of some sort set up, whatever he wanted.
However, this was also the third planet that he had chased the smuggler and girl to since taking the contract, and the trail was getting colder. Probably would have helped his employer had known the name of the smuggler, but that had proved false as soon as he had tried to search the holo for information. It was the girl who kept leaving the breadcrumbs, unintentionally he believed, but was not entirely sure.
He checked his datapad one last time before approaching the small settlement. This was the place, or at least it matched the description of the place. It was hard to tell with all the same white buildings, white ground and white sky. The Cantina stood in the middle of the settlement and had a covered shelter for swoops. The shelter was practically empty. Two other swoops were tucked into a corner and directly outside of the Cantina a beat up speeder was parked.
‘This otta be fun,’ He thought as he parked his speeder beside the other two. He set the security and pulled up his hood.
Snow had started to fall as he was parking. He shivered as he stepped out from the shelter and walked to the front door of the cantina. He hated ice planets and never did understand how humans found it necessary to settle in some of the harshest places available. He enjoyed the warmth, sun and sand too much to ever settle on an ice world.
Stepping through the door of the cantina he was confronted by a security droid. It was an old, beat up and rusty piece of machinery. It hummed to life as he passed through the door buzzing and clicking as it processed the scan it had taken when he entered.
“Welcome to Snows End Cantina,” It greeted him. “Please refrain from using your blaster in the main room of the Cantina, rooms have been designated for target practice and other sport. Enjoy our hospitality.”
“Rough neighborhood?” He asked the droid which did not respond.
Programmed to scan, welcome and turn off. Curious the warning though, most Cantina’s didn’t even give that. I guess when the only entry and exit is by elevator different rules applied, and possibly different security measures. He stored the information away for later use and entered the elevator.
As he descended the air got increasingly warmer and the snow that had accumulated on his boots began to melt into a puddle. He looked at the puddle and began to think about what would happen if the ice ever melted. The doors opening brought him back to the present.
He stepped out of the elevator and scanned the main room. The walls were colored duracrete. Holo-projections of artifacts, nobles, and other things were projected on the walls as decoration. The room was quite spacious, the outer ring walls were dotted with openings to what looked like hallways or alcoves or private rooms. There were also a few booths tucked into corners. Round tables and chairs filled the middle of the space, with paths strategically placed for the serving droids to pass by each and every table without needing to weave in and out.
The bar was at the back directly across from the elevator. Bottles of all sorts lined the wall behind the bar. Stools sat in front of the bar. The hunter noted the number and location of each patron before walking to the bar. None he spotted looked familiar or likely to give him much information. He selected a stool near one end of the bar.
“What can I get you friend?” The Bartender asked as he approached the end of the bar.
“A bottle of Whyren’s Reserve and a clean class to start with,” the hunter responded shrugging out his coat.
“I’m sorry sir, we are out of that particular beverage.” The bartender frowned. “I have one bottle left of Socorro, will that do.”
The hunter gave a meager smile. This was the third cantina he had visited that had been sold out of Whyren’s Reserve, but the first one with any Corellian whiskey still on hand. Whyren’s Reserve wasn’t cheap either. The smuggler must have made a good haul to continue to pay for the beverage for the girl. He felt like he was getting closer.
“No, thank you,” the hunter replied, “but maybe you could tell me who was the last patron to order the Reserve?”
“I can do one better,” the bartender smiled and pointed to an alcove to the left of a stage set up along one wall. “Might be that the lady there will share.”
The hunter looked in the direction that the bartender had pointed. A young girl sat with her back against the wall watching the cantina patrons. Her gaze never lingered long on anyone in particular, but flitted across the room keeping tabs on everyone. The bottle of Whyren’s Reserve sat next to two glasses on the table in front of her.
“Thank you,” the hunter smiled at the bartender and flicked him a credit chip.
The girl was pouring the spirit into the glasses when the hunter approached her table. She looked up at the hunter and motioned to a seat indicating that he was welcome to join her. She seemed entirely to calm and sure that it set the hunters nerves on edge. He sat in the offered chair.
“You are persistent,” the girl commented as she sipped the Reserve. “I would have expected you to give up by now or that the cold would have at least deterred you a bit more than it has.”
“I am sorry, I don’t follow,” the hunter frowned.
“My dear Payne,” the girl smiled. “May I call you that or should we stick to the professions? Oh it doesn’t matter. You have been led off the correct path.”
“Whatever are you talking about?” the hunter’s frown deepened. “Speak plainly.”
“You don’t know who you are chasing do you?” the girl’s concern seemed genuine. “They never do tell hunters all of the information. He knew you were tailing him and the girl, he always knows when he is being hunted. Unless he wants you to catch him you won’t.”
“Okay, I’ll play. What’s your role?” The hunter shrugged.
“Payne, you are one of the most talked about and revered bounty hunters. You always get your target,” the girl continued. “Yet this time, this time you will fail. You are not destined to catch this one, not now anyway.”
“Oh,” the hunter, Payne, turned his attention fully to the girl across the table and for the first time really looked at her. “Have we met somewhere before?”
She looked so familiar now that he was focused on her. Something tweaked in his memory to be careful, that she was not as she appeared. She took another slow sip of the Reserve before answering.
“You would remember, wouldn’t you if we had?” Payne found himself nodding in response; he would have remembered someone like her. Of course he would. “Can I offer you some Reserve, it is very good and I believe the last bottle to be found on planet?”
“Who sent you? I am curious as to how you know that I will fail to find my target?” Payne nodded and held out the second glass to be filled with the liquid.
“Ah and now we get down to business,” the girl smiled. “I am Ty’rya Vali’sht my employer is a former associate of yours, Hashashin. He has tasked me to find you and provide you an offer.”
Payne was silent. Offers often came with catches and rules. He nodded for her to continue.
“This is not the place to discuss this offer,” Ty’rya explained. “There are things that if generally known could cause great hardship to my dear Hashashin. Would you agree to meet me in a more private location?”
Ty’rya slid a small datapad across the table. It had coordinates on it for private apartments in another community. Payne suddenly felt as if he was being led on a goose chase. Even if an old associate was looking for him, why could he not come himself? He pushed the datapad back to Ty’rya.
“Is Hash in trouble?” Payne asked, Hashashin was also an alias that this associate used when trying to stay under the radar.
“No, not yet anyway,” Ty’rya smiled. “I’ll meet you at those coordinates within three weeks. If you do not show I will take that as you are not interested.”
“And what does this have to do with my current target?” Payne asked.
“She is safely at home, having returned on her own after being stranded on the first planet that the smuggler arrived on,” Ty’rya grinned. “As a typical smuggler, he used her and moved on to the next pretty girl he could find. When you return to your ship you will find a message from her father with a small payment for your services. Of course not the entire thing, as you did not complete the task.”
“How much of this plan did Hash come up with to track me down,” Payne was furious, and curious, this was one of the better schemes someone had come up with to find him.
“Entirely his idea, getting the girl to assist was also relatively easy. Finding the right smuggler was the hard part.” Ty’rya laughed. “Searg Gorg’anna is still furious about what his daughter has done, but has agreed to lift the bounty off of the smuggler, for now as Mi’asha is adamant she loves the guy.”
“So do I get any other hints about this offer?” Payne allowed the disappointment of the lost bounty to fade, Hashashin would pay for the ruse later.
“Only that it will be well worth your effort and disappointment at the loss of this bounty,” Ty’rya responded. “And if you aren’t you are welcome to take anything that Hashashin has in compensation.”
“I thought I had cleaned him out the last time,” Payne laughed.
“You did, but he has been busy with his new plan,” Ty’rya nodded and sipped again at the Reserve. “Please enjoy the rest of the Reserve. I have other duties I must attend to.”
Payne leaned back in his chair and watched Ty’rya stand and walk towards the elevator. She seemed to float as she moved. No sound came from her shoes as they moved across the floor. She turned and smiled at him when she reached the elevator and gave a little wave when the doors closed.
It was then that Payne realized he had been holding his breath. Ty’rya had left too quickly after saying something about a new plan that Hashashin had been working on. This intrigued Payne, Hashashin’s schemes were always lucrative, even for a short time, and then again he could just take the rest of what was owed him and continue his life.
Payne replaced the cap on the bottle of Whyrne’s Reserve. He shifted his seat to the bench against the wall so that he could watch the patrons. Even though the hunt for his main target was completed he still had other business to attend to. He always had other targets to pursue, efficiency was important. His second target was still here and due to enter this establishment in a few hours.
His secondary target was an arms dealer that had sold a bogus shipment to a high powered Alderaanian lord. The weapons had been duds many exploding in the hands of the wielders rather than functioning properly. It had cost the Lord a few men before he realized the deficiency in the weapons. Alderaan Lords took honor very seriously; selling bad shipments was one of the worst offences other than stealing their women.
The bounty was for the dealer to be brought back to Alderaan dead or alive. If dead they would skin him and stuff his skin as a reminder to any other dealers who thought to cheat them. If alive, well, very likely the same treatment, only done while he was still alive. Never cross a Lord of Alderaan. Payne had been witness to a few such rituals, the front the nobles of that planet created were elaborate and well crafted to hide some of their deeper, darker secrets.
A lively game of some version of Pazzak was being played at one of the center tables. The participants loudly accusing each other of cheating caught Payne’s attention for a moment. None seemed overly intent on following through to violence, even though the Pazzak dealer looked a little more concerned and glanced back at the bar to make sure that someone had witnessed the exchange. A light flashed above the bar, and the dealer turned his attention back to the table.
A group of aliens had activated one of the holo-tables and were staring longingly at the holodancer while she ground her hips up and down a pole. Fresh mugs of some steaming beverage were delivered to them by the serving droid. Payne watched as the group toasted something and consumed their beverages before moving off into one of the private rooms.
A young girl entered the Cantina from one of the halls opposite Payne’s table. Her cheeks were rosy, but Payne could not tell if that was from being outside or something else. He did not know where that particular hallway led. She walked to the bar and ordered something Payne could not hear and sat at the corner of the bar striking up conversation with the bartender. She might have been a regular, though she looked too young to be frequenting such establishments. Payne watched her for a while, but she gave nothing away that would tell him she was anything other than a regular patron.
She must have felt Payne watching her and turned to scan the patrons. Her eyes lingered on Payne for a moment before dismissing him and continuing to scan the Cantina. Payne smiled; often he was dismissed as someone not important. It was the best thing for a bounty hunter. No one suspected him to be anything, which made his job so much easier.
His glass had run dry, but he was not interested in drinking the rest of the Reserve. He would save it for when next he ran into Ty’rya to conclude their business. He put the bottle in a special compartment in the bag he always had with him. It was nearing the time for his meeting with his target. He stood and walked towards the bar.
“Bartender,” Payne called as he approached. “How much for a private room?”
“How big, how long and for what purpose?” the bartender responded moving away from the girl at the end of the bar, who when Payne got closer was much older than she appeared from far away.
“Don’t need anything too large, I have a deal that I need to conclude in a more private setting,” Payne explained spinning the tale that he was using as cover for this particular meeting. “Shouldn’t need it for more than a few hours.”
“Hey Kitty,” the bartender turned to the girl, “Are you needing the blue room tonight?”
“I don’t think so,” the girl responded her voice high and sharp. “Though charge extra, this one looks like he might cause trouble.”
“Blue room, there to the right of the stage down the hall, second door on the left,” the bartender explained. “Will you need a more secluded exit as well?”
“Always good to know where alternate exits are?” Payne smiled.
“There is one at the end of that particular hallway, but you will have to climb stairs. Takes you to the back of the parking structure,” the bartender laughed. “The charge is 3000 credits and you have the room until midnight. If you need it longer it will be another 3000 credits per hour.”
“I guess that’s incentive to get my business concluded quickly,” Payne bristled at the additional cost. “Payment upfront I assume?”
“Of course,” the bartender smiled brightly, he was enjoying this.
“If anyone is looking for free labor, please direct them to the room,” Payne instructed as he fished out the credit chips to pay for the room.
“Will do,” the bartender nodded as he accepted the chips and verified them. “The door is unlocked now, if you need to lock it tap the panel twice, to unlock tap twice again. The controls are from here, otherwise it will stay unlocked.”
Payne nodded and moved toward the room. He needed to scout out the location of the room in reference to the elevator, bar and back stairs.
The Adams-Schlag Family 