Loic Monerat & The Lizard Brain Spice Smuggling Syndicate - Chris Herron, Greg Provan (red seas under red skies txt) 📗

boss, Hutts are hermaphrodites but some seem more feminine and some seem more masculine, Sarkraa was feminine but no less lethal than any of her more masculine counterparts. Loic cost her over a million credits’ worth of spice, not even taking into consideration the street value of the drug. Hutts are not known for their forgiving nature and Loic had to steal a ship and flee, he was left destitute, impecunious and with a bad spice habit to try and kick.

He spent several months detoxing in self-exile on the isolated planet of Draethos, with its cragged mountains and deep cave systems it offered him refuge. When he finally returned to galactic civilisation many had suspected him dead. He kept a low profile, eking out a paltry existence picking pockets on the dusty and arid streets of frontier towns around the Tira Desert on planet Sorrus, he fell quickly back into the habit of using spice again as it was ubiquitous among the kind of company one keeps when making a living as a bandit, and it took the edge of the hard knocks of life on the street.

 

After about a year, somehow, somewhere, by someone, he had been identified, he didn’t know by whom, but it was obvious they had informed Sarkraa as she placed a bounty on his head that was big enough to choke a bantha, big enough in fact, to attract the attention of one of the galaxy’s most redoubtable bounty hunters, Bossk. Loic had barely escaped Sorrus with his life and Bossk had never been far behind him since…

 

He could make everything right, but it required credits, a lot of credits, more than a hundred years picking pockets in Tira could ever get him. There was something else though, if he could do something to appease the crime lord Sarkraa, then she may give him pass. There’s only one thing Hutts like more than food and credits and that’s power. Inner-fighting between Hutt clans was endemic, they are a war-like species and terrorists to many other planets, but they do as much killing over power-struggles within their own clans as they do capturing and enslaving colonies and planets. Sarkraa owns the second largest portion of Hutt Space, her stranglehold ranges from Cyborrea all the way to Nar Kreeta, her territory makes up a sizeable chunk of Hutt Space. Her province though, is not even half as big as a Hutt named Okkra’s, whose region of Hutt Space runs all the way from Keldooine to Ganath. Sarkraa had long been jealous of and hated Okkra’s superior wealth and dominance. With him out of the picture, she could govern the largest Hutt mafia in the known galaxy.

 

And that was when Loic had came up with his plan. If he did this favour for Sarkraa, took Okkra out of the picture, it would be worth more than twenty million times what she lost when Loic’s gaffe had caused the loss of a million credits’ worth of product. Loic wasn’t a killer, he wasn’t big and he wasn’t strong, he was more suited for stealth, wiry and short, but he was streetsmart, he knew how to handle a blaster and he usually managed to avoid trouble quite adroitly anyway. So it was a lot for him to take on, the assassination of a Hutt lord, but the famous Hutt Jabba was killed, it was rumoured, by a mere woman, if she could do it, so could Loic.

 

When he got to Eriadu last night he had lost his blaster in a game of Sabaac, it was an expensive custom made weapon and the pang of regret over its loss filled him again. He hadn’t bothered to replace it as he knew he would be disarmed before being allowed to enter the event he was en route to anyway, and he would be leaving in too much of a hurry to reclaim it at the door. So he would have to do this another way, he could get a blaster from almost anywhere once the job was done. The event he trudged along the pluvial streets to, was a dinko fighting arena, dinko fighting was a favourite gambling pastime of Okkra’s, it is a bloodsport in which small, but vicious reptiles are pit against each other and spectators bet on the outcome. He had information that Okkra was attending one such event here tonight, it was the only reason he had even come to this backwater rock in deep space, he had to get close enough to Okkra to kill him and get Sarkraa off his back, and therefore Bossk too. His nostrils flared as he inhaled a deep breath of the malodorous, still air, steeled himself, and crossed the dank street to the building where the vile and detestable Okkra should be…

The buildings dilapidated facade spoke little of the internal happenings, but the security crew outside certainly did. Hand signals and bluster alone couldn’t steer Loic past the barrel-chested Gamorean guards. The rough beasts frisked him with expert hands, robbed him of his meager supply of credits and all but hurled him forwards into a group of irate Nicto who had obviously taken umbrage at being disarmed. Loic robbed one of his money pouch on the way past, the Nicto would find, when it was too late, his blaster was not the only item to be taken from him. A raucous din was coming from down a steep passageway, there were a few people loitering around no doubt engaged in haggling, gambling and dishonest schemes. Loic ignored them and pushed forward till he reached a circular balustrade, filled with roaring degenerates impatiently shouting for the next two frenzied reptiles to be pitted against one another. Okkra, Loic could see, rested his elephantine enormity on a platform raised above the balustrade. He was flanked by mean-faced henchmen, and, of course nobody had asked them to give up their arms.No one man, certainly not Loic, was going to tackle a gaggle of goons and Okkra head on, blaster or not.

 

Secrecy not scandal was his best ally. He pushed further round the balustrade. There was a commotion below as two handlers prodded another two reptiles into the arena with cruel barbed spears. A gap-toothed reveler leaned precariously over the edge of the handrail, Loic nudged him guiltily on the way past. The man howled with terror on his way to the red sand below. The crowd roared with their amusement, as did Okkra, as the unfortunate new arrival was torn to pieces by the warring reptiles. Loic found what he was looking for, a narrow stairway, leading upwards.

 

The timeworn stairway led to a chamber where the scaffolding above the pit could be accessed. There was a sturdy oaken door blocking his access but the lock was no match for the veteran lockpick. Even in such an age of vaunted technological miracles the old arts still proved useful. Okkra was either foolish enough to leave the door unattended or more likely the guards were watching the blood sport below more concerned with their wagers.

 

No weapons were permitted into the premises tonight, but what of previous nights, where guests much less auspicious than a crime lord were the only concern for an underpaid and disinterested security? It had been little trouble for Loic to smuggle in a hand-held cross brow on one such night. The mechanical device was small but powerful; a well aimed bolt would puncture Okkra’s girth with ease. The bolts may have been small but they were cruelly designed and deadly.

 

Okkra knew he had enemies, he took precautions but he had grown sloppy, Loic could tell. He may have been safe in his own private palace, surrounded by yes men and sycophants but here Okkra should have been more aware of his surroundings. But instead the Hutt perpetually sucked greedily from his massive double-chambered spice-bowl. His prodigious spice habit had robbed him of his cunning and foresight, he was more concerned ordering around his minions to fetch him more drinks and delicacies than he was with security. He had a security team, the usual mercenaries and some former bounty hunters. Former bounty hunters likely more satisfied with a regular income than roaming the galaxy chasing dead-beat hustlers and ghosts. The spice didn’t help, they were all at it, and when the boss himself was perpetually imbibing it didn’t set much of an example to the rest.

 

Loic cut through the shadows like an ethereal wraith, he moved round a hoist wheel and climbed onto a scaffold walkway. Depending on what the premises were being used for there was sometimes stage-hands and performers using the scaffold, but this night Loic could see no other. He moved to a suitable vantage point where he had a good shot of Okkra. The bodyguards were scanning the crowd on the balustrade but none thought to look up. Loic fancied he could get a bolt right through one of Okkra’s half-shut eyes such was his marksmanship. One bolt could well be enough but he planned to send another into his skull to make sure. Loic felt a frisson of nervous energy flash down his spice-ravaged spine. Up until this point he had been calm, detached, the spice had seen to that, now faced with the prospect of murdering one of the most infamous crime lords in the galaxy he felt his bowels turn to water. Where his hand had been sure it was now unsteady, where his resolve had been strong it was now riddled with doubt.

 

He was a dead man unless he assuaged Sarkraa he reminded himself. This murderous act would certainly make up for his lost shipment, when he presented her with the murder weapon. Sarkraa was ruthless but a pragmatic creature she remained. Loic would be rewarded. He steadied his breathing, it was time, there was no turning back. He took aim with his crossbow and inhaled. Just then in the arch of his peripheral vision something moved. He sat up in alarm crossbow at the ready. But he was too late. A huge form landed next to him on the rickety scaffold walkway. An enormous scaled fist swatted the cross bow out his hand another seized him round the throat lifting him from the ground up to eye level with his assailant. Loic felt as if his windpipe would be crushed but through the pain he could make out the reptilian face of Bossk. He was wanted alive that was the only reason his head was still attached to his body. He tried to think fast before he lost consciousness, instead of using his two arms to grip Bossk’s great wrist - lessening the strain on his neck - he maneuverered his spark from his pocket. Heating pipes of spice were the only reason he carried the thing but in desperation he flashed it in front of Bossk's face. The grip was broken, the Trandoshan’s super-sensitive eyes were unsuited to such close brightness. Loic rolled from the scaffold struggling to breathe. He landed roughly on the chamber floor but he wasn't in a position to nurse his wounds. His trick had bought him but little time. Bossk was leaping from the scaffold, fast on his heels.

Loic was now faced with an unsavoury decision, it was much more than fight or flight, he had to decide very quickly whether to run, run from months and months of hard planning, smuggling the crossbow in weeks ago, paying for the information about Okkra’s plans to go to the dinko fighting, everything! These thoughts barely had time to formulate, something far deeper and colder resonated in the back of his head. Bossk landed with a heavy thud just a few feet from him, but he had been expecting that, what he hadn’t thought about was what was behind him, where had he landed, he didn’t even need to