Episode 2: Queen of Air and Darkness
"I fold," the bounty hunter said dejectedly, as he threw down his cards. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, his helmeted face never leaving mine.
"You can't win'em all." I scooped up my credits and added them to my growing pile. So far the hunter, in his blood red armor and featureless faceplate, had lost a thousand credits to me in the past hour. I hated the fact that he refused to remove his helmet for the game. I couldn't read his face to tell if he was bluffing so I had to win with my actual playing ability. It was going pretty smoothly.
His name was Golan Med. He was a low class mercenary with lower ethics. I had first heard of Golan when he was trying to collect a bounty on a friend of mine in the Nal Hutta system. Apparently Golan met with the business end of a sublight engine during take off and rumors say he was horribly burned and disfigured. That's why he wore the armor: to cover his mistake and the horror of his face.
He couldn't be trusted and the only reason I even sat here playing with him was because he had an invite to Jabba's tournament. He was exactly what I was looking for: stupid and disguised.
I was offended by his inclusion to the tournament. This guy couldn't beat a dead bantha with a stick. I was getting more insulted as we played. How did he get invited and not me?
With each round I laid on the pressure. I was going to fleece this idiot for all he was worth and get his invitation. Jabba had sent several invitations across the galaxy. A small datacard with a personal message from the big slug himself. You needed that to get past the guards at his palace and join the competition. I knew some of the contestants. Solo, Lando Calrissian, the Devorian brothers Oxbel and Labria, the smuggler Tord Gamb, even Talon Karrde was supposed to show, yet I had some how was absent from Jabba's list. My anger swelled as each name went through my mind.
I figured it was time to stop fooling around with this idiot and get my plan in gear.
"Another round, Golan?" I asked with a hint of sarcasm. I lit my cigar and softly blew smoke in his face. The cloud wrapped around his helmet and I looked at my reflection in his faceplate. I smiled. He was pathetic.
"I'm through Starr. Besides I have to get ready for the big day tomorrow." His voice was tinny and metallic through his microphone. I leaned in, I could see the glow of my cigar bounce off his helmet.
"Jabba's?" I asked knowing the answer. Golan sat there quietly for a moment. He nodded slowly.
"Yeah, and you?" He asked tentatively. Yeah you should be nervous, punk.
"Not yet, but I'm looking into it." I flicked some ashes on the floor and collected the cards. I subtly unsnapped the guard on my holster without alerting Golan. I could tell where this was going. In fact, I had planned for it.
"Really? How you gonna pull that one off?" He chuckled. I could tell he was more than a little smug now that he knew I wasn't invited. Now he thought he was one of the chosen. I slowly reached for my blaster. Before he realized anything, I leapt from my seat and pounced on him. In seconds I had the weapon in his gut and was whispering in his ear.
"Shut up and walk outside." I ushered him to the door with my gun. He sat there stunned for a moment.
"We don't have all day. Now move it!"
He stood up carefully, hands at his sides.. The bar's inhabitants never even gave us a second glance, which is why I loved this place; you could do your business without people sticking their noses in everything. He headed towards the main entrance.
"Sorry pal, use the back." I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and pushed him toward the back room. We slipped through the crowd easily and made it to the back office. I had already arranged to have the office available to me ahead of time. So far everything was going smoothly.
As he opened the door he tried to backhand me. I grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back, jabbing the blaster into his throat.
"I ain't kidding around," I grumbled as I put more pressure on his arm. He tensed and moved slowly into the small office. I released his arm and shoved him against the wall. He spun around and I pulled out my other blaster.
"So now what, you gonna kill me? You've already won all my money." He rubbed his sore arm absently. "What are you doing this for?" He seemed too calm which made me nervous. I figured he was scheming in that pea brain of his. Not his best move.
"Well I'm not invited, but you are. And if I can convince Jabba I'm you, I'm in. I'll win the whole thing and... jeez, what am I telling you this for? This ain't a job interview." I shut the door behind me with my foot. We'd need the privacy. "Now don't think I'm hitting on ya, but strip." I waved the blaster for emphasis. He shrugged and slowly took of his armor.
When he removed his helmet I winced. His face was burned and scarred. One eye was sealed shut and looked like melted wax. He had a few tufts of hair but was mainly bald. The burns covered his entire body. I felt a twinge of guilt. No one deserved his life, but having his clothes stolen seemed to be the least of his troubles. He stood in his black body suit and stared at me. I instructed him to place the armor on the table. He sneered, not wanting to give up his helmet.
A knock on the door distracted me.
"Garic, you almost done in..." Golan threw his helmet at me, knocking a blaster out of one hand. He leapt across the room and was on me. Riley, the bartender, was sent sprawling out of the office as we crashed into the opening door, my other hand pinned against it. I struggled to get my bearings.
Unable to fire, I swung with my open hand, connecting with the rough skin of Golan's face. He rolled off me briefly as I tried to stand. With a growl of rage, Golan threw a blind punch, hitting the door's control panel. Sparks sprayed out of the controls for a moment and smoke rose in a final plume, as the door slid shut. Riley started pounding on the door, but it was sealed as a result of the damage.
With a blow to the neck, Golan doubled over and I lifted my knee, snapping one of the hunter's ribs loudly. I raised my blaster to shoot but he recovered quicker than I expected and grabbed my forearm with both of his scarred hands. The gun dropped as my hand struck the wall. He grabbed my other arm and held me to the wall, his horrible face inches from mine.
"You're a dead man!" he snapped. His breath was thick and foul. I frowned slightly and thrust my head at him. With a thick sounding THONK, our foreheads collided and he stumbled backwards groggily. Pain shot through my own skull, and I could feel blood drip into my eye with a slight sting. Wiping at my forehead, I knelt and reached for one of my blasters on the floor. At that moment Golan came at me, legs pumping like a sprinter. As sudden as he had begun his charge, a momentary flash of light ended it, and he fell to the ground only inches from me, unconscious. I took a few paces back. Golan lay silently at my feet. With my boot, I nudged his body to see if he'd move. Nothing.
From a small trap door in the floor behind the fallen hunter, Riley's rough face appeared. He placed the blaster on the floor and lifted himself up.
"I'm adding that to your bar tab."
The only light came from a small lonely bulb. I could hardly see, but I knew among the cluttered boxes of liquor and supplies that Golan would be well hidden. Not wanting to face the problems that would come along with killing a man in his own establishment, Riley had set his weapon for stun. Bound and gagged, Golan struggled with the syntharope. He squirmed and made muffled protests. I squatted in front of him and made him look me in the eye, as best he could under the circumstances.
"I'm awfully sorry, Golan. Don't take it personal, I just need your wardrobe, kid." He garbled a swear and I managed to decipher most of it. It wasn't pretty and mostly directed towards my mother. I pulled out the small datacard that was my key to Jabba's palace and waved it in his face.
"Don't worry, I'll pay you back after I win." I patted his disfigured head and turned out the light. He cried out again, angrier than ever, and his teeth clenched around the gag. I reached for the ladder and shook my head. I had finally hit a low. Smuggling was usually the biggest crime I ever committed. Despite what my Imperial criminal record said, I never killed anyone except in self-defense. Kidnapping.... well, this was a new one.
Riley was sitting at his desk looking over receipts as I locked the trap door. I stared at the armor, the dark red sinking into my eyes as my own blood had only moments before. Trying hard not to think about what I was getting myself into, I slowly donned the disguise. It wasn't a perfect fit but close enough. At least it didn't pinch. Striking a pose, I waited for Riley's reaction. After a few seconds he looked up from his paperwork and laughed.
He pointed at the helmet.
"Put it on and let me see." Gritting my teeth, I picked up the helmet, and felt its weight in my hands. After a few seconds of hesitation, I slipped it into place. The inside smelled of stale breath and sweat. With a slight click, the magnetic seal set itself, and my vision quickly adjusted to the infrared view screen and heads-up display.
I pushed any claustrophobia to the back of my mind. I could tell the helmet would affect my aim and reaction time. I just hoped I wouldn't need them.
"Can hardly tell the difference." Riley announced. He scratched his head and looked me over again. "Actually you can't tell the difference. Damn." He smiled and returned to his receipts.
"It'll take some time to get used to but hopefully in two days I won't need it." I patted Riley on the shoulder and opened the office door.
"You don't mind holding him for a few days?" I wondered allowed.
"I'll release him in the morning. You should have plenty of time to get a good head start," he spoke without looking up. "Besides, he can't get into Jabba's without the invitation right? You'll be fine."
"Thanks Riley, I owe ya one. Let's hope this is all worth it."
"You owe me seven," he chuckled, "but who's counting?"
I parked the rented landspeeder a klick away from the palace. The suns had set and the desert was cooling. A cluster of womprats scurried behind some rocks as I walked the long road to Jabba's. The large canyon I walked through held many creatures, and I hoped not to run into any of them tonight. The eerie silence was beginning to get to me. I needed noise and people, not this solitude. I could hear my armor clink lightly together as I walked. This was going to be my biggest gamble ever. I was beginning to think I was the reckless idiot everyone always told me I was.
Soon I was standing at the large Ditanium door. The sandstone fortress was massive and imposing, with a rocky cliff flanking it on one side and the vast reaches of the Dune Sea stretching out on the other. The large main gate towered over me and I tried to imagine why Jabba needed a door this big. I tapped my armored fist against the door. A small hatch in the middle of the door opened and a spidery mechanical arm with a large electronic eyeball on the end, popped out to inspect me.
"Eechuda contchana mok latk kan?" it asked. The droid could have been asking me about the mating habits of the Thorillian fanged gerbil for all I knew, but taking a guess, I held up the borrowed datacard. With a rapid blink the orb examined it.
"Caddantel pelk chak narr!" With another blink, the orb retreated back into the hatch. I waited a few seconds and began getting nervous. Another few seconds went by. I figured I was gonna have to make a run for it.
I took a step back and the hatch snapped open again. This time, another mechanical arm came jutting out, but the eye was replaced with a simple slotted box. I placed the card into the recepticle and several lights scanned it. With a chime, the arm pulled back. Several ominous mechanical noises followed and the large metal door slowly rose.
"Let the games begin..." I said, half to myself.
The long walk down the empty hall was a bit nerve-racking. Eyes glowed in corners and unseen vermin scurried about. The night vision in the helmet compensated somewhat but some recesses still escaped my sight. A fine layer of dirt covered the floor and the ceilings seemed to reach up forever, perched atop bare concrete walls. A large spider-like droid scurried behind me. It's belly looked like a clear jar with some kind of fleshy matter inside. I had been to the palace several times but had never quite gotten used to its assorted inhabitants.
A few meters down the hall the guards appeared: porcine Gamorreans wielding huge battle axes. Their wet snouts and tusks glistened. A pair of the barbaric pig-men
closed in around me as the Twi'lek Bib Fortuna approached, grinning a feral grin.
"Welcome, Golan. His Excellency has been waiting for you." His headtails twitched calmly, and his flowing aqua-colored robe fluttered as he executed a slight bow. I assumed that he wore the garment because it made ass-kissing easier and less restrictive. I nodded a silent response, and the guards allowed me to pass. Down the stairs and through a foyer was Jabba's throne room, filled with lowlife from across the galaxy.
The first thing to hit me was the smell: a mixture of alcohol and sweat.
I could see Solo and the wookiee Chewbacca chatting off to my right. Lando Calrissian soon joined them and they laughed loudly. As I passed, I nodded my head at Solo and he returned the favor. Nothing. As far as he was concerned I was just another bounty hunter. Good, I thought. Let's keep it that way
I kept mostly to myself for the first few minutes, and just tried to get a feel for the
competition. As I scanned the crowd, my eye fell on a brand new tapestry that
adorned one of the palace walls. I had never seen it before in my previous visits, but
like so many other things in Jabba's palace, the irony killed me. Sure it was beautiful,
and there was no doubt in my mind that it was expensive, but how many of my fellow
revelers knew that the true purpose of the tapestry was to hide the blood stains left
when Jabba had an unfaithful business associate executed at close range with a
As if someone had read my thoughts about the beautiful mixed with the hideous, it was then that the unwashed masses of riff raff and scoundrels parted, and a true beauty emerged. Her eyes glowed red, contrasting with blue skin and jet black hair. A slender grace in her walk grabbed my attention. She was a Cirpian. Humanoid and alluring, but hardly the type you trusted. I gave her a nod as she walked by. I needed to get to know her, I thought smiling.
I saw Tord Gamb standing off to one side, engaged in a conversation with a shifty looking Sullustan. He was a tall human with dark hair and rugged features. A con man through and through, Tord was a good ol' boy I had worked with on a couple of occasions. Of course, I didn't trust him either, but he was my friend.
Tord and I had escaped a bad gun running deal in the Pintart sector, fighting our way out from an ambush of Grans. I learned never to trust a Gran that day, three-eyed goat-faced swindlers, but I could rely on Tord if we were in a jam.
Across the room was Boba Fett, pacing back and forth like a sentry. Jabba's personal police force. I guessed that he was here to make sure everything went smoothly, but just walking into Jabba's was asking for deceit and treachery. It grew in the palace darkness like a vile mold.
Again the woman caught my eye: a true vision among the scum. In one hand, she held
an azure-colored concoction that I assumed was a Bantha Blast. Bowing to peer pressure, I took a Corellian whiskey off a passing C5 server droid and neared her small clique.
"Golan! You old rascal. They'll let anyone in here!" A meaty hand landed on my shoulder. I spun around to see a Romassian towering over me. Romassians were large scary looking beings with flat nose and lifeless eyes. This particular being was dark brown and his face and hands were black. His sharp teeth and flat nose filled his large face. He was a good meter taller than me and I was surprised I hadn't noticed the creature when I entered the room.
He was wearing an armor made from a rare titanium alloy that actually seemed to help him breath. It was slick and lightweight, shining in the light. His thin legs appeared to be unable to support the beast, awkwardly small and deceptively powerfull. I craned my head to look him in the face. He had to be a few inches taller than Chewbacca and maybe even a little thicker in the arms. I knew this could be bad.
"Golan! Don't tell me you've forgotten." He smiled a terrible grin. I could see his sharp, yellow incisors, and started to feel a little uncomfortable. "You are Golan Med, correct?"
"Sure, sure. How've you been?" I tried to skirt his name whenever possible. The massive creature bent down and picked me up in a hug. He was squeezing the life out of me.
"Never been better. It's good to see you my friend. I haven't seen you in a Gundark's age." My vision started to blur and I could feel myself slipping into unconsciousness. The armor was of little use against his grip. All at once he let go. I gasped for breath and the beast chuckled. "A pleasant surprise, my friend." He looked at me curiously.
"The...feeling is...mutual," I tried to catch my breath as I spoke. "You still...in the same place?" I tried to make an attempt at generic small talk. No need arousing suspicion.
"Nah. Ryloth was a little too extreme for me. I've been in the Pendarr Sector lately. It's not as heavily patrolled as other spaceways, and the cruiseships are just as loaded. A much more lucrative operation." He looked me over again, his brow furrowed. "Is that you Golan?"
"Of...of course it is" I racked my brain trying to figure out who he might be. Romassians are few and far between. I had only met two in the entire galaxy, in fact. One was a sadistic killer that terrorized Cartolia a few years back. He was taken out by Prophet. The other was a simple being I had meet several years ago named...
"Salko!" I didn't mean to yell it out but the revelation hit me. He smiled again and patted me on the head.
"Yeah, Golan. You never forget do you? Makes you a good hunter." I shrugged and he looked at me, slightly puzzled. Shaking his head, and presumably any doubts
from his mind, I guess he decided I was the genuine article and walked off to get a drink. I used this opportunity to sneak off by myself. The more questions asked, the more likely I'd be discovered.
More beings filled the throne room and soon it seemed swollen to capacity. A large curtain on the far end of the room fluttered and somewhere a gong was hit. The room came to a nervous hush, and Bib Fortuna appeared before the curtain.
"Gentlebeings. It is my undying pleasure to present your magnificent and benevolent host for this tournament. His Excellency..." the curtain opened to show the slug like creature slither into view. "Jabba the Hutt."
The crowd erupted with applause, and the yellowish-green Hutt raised one hand like a politician campaigning for re-election. His large eyes blinked and a broad smile appeared on his fat face, as his Kowakian monkey, Salacious Crumb, squealed and cackled with glee. He waved the applause down and a silver protocol droid ambled beside him to translate.
"Welcome, honored guests. His Excellency is very pleased to see such a turn out for this glorious event. Among you are the greatest Sabacc players in the galaxy," I coughed a little at this part, and then turned to my neighbor.
"Where's Garic Starr? I figured he'd be the front runner." The small human looked at me and laughed.
"Starr? I'm glad he's not here. Arrogant jerk." I held back from throttling him. No need to make a scene. The droid rambled on.
"Each of you have paid the 2,000 credit entry fee and will be receiving your chips at the start of the games tomorrow. The rules are quiet simple. Play until you have no more money. The winner will receive 150,000 credits minus a small percentage to the illustrious Jabba. The tournament will start at 1030 standard hours tomorrow and will be played in 3 rounds."
I looked at the crowd, to decide who could give me the most trouble. Solo and Calrissian seemed to be my toughest challenge. Tord Gamb was just as good. This
wasn't going to be as easy as I had first thought.
"Since there are exactly one hundred contestants, the first round will consist of twenty tables of five players. Each of the twenty winners will then go to round two, where there will be four tables of five. Finally, round three will consist of the four winners and one of Jabba's appointed dealers." A small groan fluttered through the crowd. Jabba's dealers were always crooked and easily bribed.
"Anyone found cheating will face the ultimate penalty. Please play fair and enjoy your time here at the palace. Each of you has been given a room in the visitor's wing. Your access card will allow you admittance. But for now, enjoy the feast that Jabba's chef has prepared, and celebrate!" A roar from the crowd rose, as did the volume of
Jabba's jizz band, and soon, everyone was back to their interrupted socializing.
Thinking that this would be a perfect time to sneak away, I slowly slipped into a side hallway, ready to retire for the evening.
"Golan!" a voice echoed through the hallway. I turned to see the lovely glowing eyed woman standing near an open door. "Or should I say, 'He who's pretending to be Golan?'" I waited a second, and then approached.
"I don't know what you mean, Miss...?" My voice was tinny through the microphone and it annoyed even me.
"Pandora Kelt," she held out her hand. Kelt. The name was familiar but I couldn't place it. I took her soft hand gently and bowed. "But I don't know who you are."
"Golan Med, hunter and gambler extraordinare." I looked into her glowing eyes and they seemed to pulse like rubies. She took back her hand and laughed.
"Golan is a bumbling fool. I worked with him a few years back on a spice run. You walk with too much confidence. Who are you?" Persistent little lady. But I wasn't going to screw up my chances in this tournament for the sake of an attractive woman.
"I'm anyone you want me to be." My eyes traced over her beautiful body. They sure know how to make'em on Cirpia, that's for sure. I blessed the helmet for allowing me to look without getting in trouble.
"I'm sure Jabba would be interested in knowing there's an imposter in his palace. I know he's not too fond of people making a fool out of him." In a flash she had a blaster trained on me. Beautiful and dangerous. I could learn to like this.
"Put that away, sweetheart, before you hurt someone." I folded my arms casually, "Like me for starters." She didn't flinch. Actually, she seemed to get a better grip on the trigger.
"Let's take a look under that helmet of yours." I figured I couldn't make any quick moves or she'd blast me. If she ran with Jabba's group, she'd have no problem killing me in a heartbeat. I was between a rock and a hard place.
"Look, you really don't want to see me. I'm just a two-bit bounty hunter. I'm not even a very good Sabacc player. I'll be out of the running before I even sit down tomorrow." She wasn't buying it. Nobody here thought they were going to lose; that's why they bothered to show up. Never let it be said that I'm a good liar.
Slowly, I removed the helmet. The magnetic seal clicked off and I pulled my sweaty head out. She smiled a little when she saw me, which made me a little leery.
"Garic Starr," she muttered. "I'll be damned. I was wondering where you were." I breathed in deeply, and ran my fingers through my mussed hair.
"Have we met? " I knew we hadn't. I wouldn't forget a woman like her. She lowered her weapon.
"No, but I have seen you around before and we have common acquaintances. You've got quite a reputation going for you. And you're better looking than I thought." I laughed. I was better looking than I thought too, and I have a pretty high opinion of myself... or at least thats what everyone told me. Standing there,
next to her, I could feel her beauty radiate from her like the glow in her eyes. I quickly pushed the distraction out of my mind. If I were to get caught without my helmet on, I was dead.
"You arent so bad yourself, sweetheart... but I need to go. Maybe we can talk over dinner later tonight," I clicked the helmet back into place. She grinned thoughtfully.
"So would I," I took her hand again and bowed gracefully. She giggled and I took a step back. "Would a midnight meal be good for you?"
"There you are!" Han Solo strolled down the hall. His smug face held a lopsided grin. He strode up to Pandora and glanced my way. "This hunter giving you a problem, Pandora?" She smiled as he drew near. I could tolerate Solo, but not when there were women around. He always seemed to kick his charm into
overdrive. Apparently, Pandora had some other options cooking with him.
"No Han. I thought he was someone else. Just a simple mistake." Her eyes glowed brightly for an instant and then settled back to their normal burn.
"Well Golan's harmless, right buddy?" he patted me on the shoulder and I was glad the helmet hid my scowl.
"Well we're missing the party, gorgeous. Care to dance?" Solo offered his arm and Pandora slipped hers around it.
"That would be wonderful." Solo led her into the main room where the music and talking merged into a constant buzz. I shook my head and walked toward the visitors wing. You can't win'em all, I thought.
"Identification please." The valet droid held out his robotic hand. I handed him the borrowed access card and he scanned it briefly.
"Thank you Master Med. Allow Arty to show you to your room." He returned the card to me as a small RT mouse droid rolled out into the hall. It beeped at me and then shot down the long hallway. I had to trot to keep up with the motorized toaster, as it obviously wasn't programmed to wait. It stopped by one of several doors and waited for me to arrive. With a beep it shot back down the dark hall toward the reception area.
I'd stayed in the visitor's wing at Jabba's before. It was very reminiscent of a detention area: the rooms were small and simple, and a bed, a bathroom and small closet were the only amenities, not unlike the room the moisture farmer gave me a few nights back. Usually anyone staying more than a few days got a room inside the palace, but Jabba did have large groups visit on occasion and converted this wing to accommodate them.
I inserted the datacard into the lock and the door slid open. I looked down the hallway before entering to see if I was being followed. In Jabba's someone always wanted dirt on you. Conspiracies were everywhere. Throw a rock and you were bound to hit one. When I was sure that the hallway was clean, I looked into my room and nearly dropped my card.
Laying on my bed was a fat, six breasted woman, her face spotted with warts and moles. She was wearing far too little for my tastes, and was desperately trying to put on her best seductive pose. I nearly gagged at the sight of her fleshy rolls swaying as she moved. Her tangled hair was dirty and knotted. She smiled at me and both her teeth glittered. I could only stand in terror as she kicked her massive legs to the side of the bed in an attempt to get up.
After three solid efforts, she managed to push her bulk off the bed and stand. Her six breasts sagged from the shear weight and I could hear the jangling of her hoop earrings.
"Golan!" she spread her gelatinous arms apart and ran to embrace me. Everything on her moved like an angry sea crashing against the beach. I could smell a rank stench, as if she hadn't bathed in a long time. I nearly froze as the monstrosity waddled toward me. At the last instant I managed to duck her meaty arms and run to the other side of the room.
"Oh I love playing games!" she shouted gleefully. "Come to momma!" She turned and ran towards me. Apparently Golan liked the big ones. She chased me around for a few moments, but then quickly winded. Gasping for breath she bent over, her arms braced on her knees. "What's the matter Golan? I've missed you so."
"I...I...I've missed...you...too. But I'm a little...tired tonight. I was hoping to...to get...get some rest." Her smile faded and she stood up straight. I could see the celluloid clumps in her legs and arms, and was quickly becoming nauseous. If I hadnt thought anything bad about Golan before, I certainly did now.
"But it's been so long...I've been waiting for you to return. I even arranged it so you could be here for the games." I knew it! Golan wasn't smart enough to tie his own shoes let alone play Sabacc with the best gamblers in the galaxy. She had managed to get me dropped and have Golan replace me. Now I was pissed.
"Look. I'm tired and don't feel like it tonight." I was getting queasier as I thought of Golans scarred body and her massive mounds of flesh embraced together in the act of love. The thought could have made a lesser man impotent. "I...I...I have a headache." And you disgust me! Her head sank as she walked to the door. She looked pitiful and I could sympathize with her. She stood in the hallway, looking sadly back into the room.
"I'll...I'll..." I figured I couldn't screw up Golan's love life too much. It wouldn't be right. "I'll make it up to you," her eyes lit up and before I could move she grabbed me in a sweaty hug. Her squishy arms enveloping me. Her smell was overwhelming and she kissed my helmet.
"Oh, Golan. I love you so." She was near tears. So happy to see her lover. I swallowed my disgust and looked into her chubby warty face.
"I...I love...you too...sweetheart." Did I just say that? Even if it wasn't me who was saying it I felt dirty and ill. She clutched her hands to the top set of bosoms and ran off, giddy and love struck. I closed the door, locked it tight and rested against it.
"I need a shower or something"
The brief shower was cool and inviting. I couldn't spend too much time due to the planet's water shortage but I did allow myself an extra minute or so before the water shut itself off. The water seemed to evaporate into the dry air and I barely needed to use a towel. I looked in the mirror. A two day growth of beard seemed right to me for some reason. I felt calm and collected after the shower, though
it was hard to ignore the large roach that scurried across the sink in front of me. All the money in the galaxy and Jabba lives in this filth. I shook my head, disgusted. But disgust evaporated like the water into fear. I heard the door open and a familiar booming voice.
"Golan. It's Salko. I have business to discuss." I looked at my face in the mirror, the blood draining from it quickly. I frantically looked around the simple bathroom. A sink, a shower stall and a mirror. One towel hung from a dowel near the sink. I was trapped.
I peeked out through the cracked door and saw the huge being sitting on my bed, my helmet in his huge hands. How did he get in? I locked the door. Then I remembered where I was. He probably bribed someone.
I had no way of escaping. I couldn't walk out there. As soon as he saw my unburned skin, he'd know I wasn't Golan. I looked desperately through the bathroom for anything. Nothing but a bar of soap, a washcloth and towel.
"Uh...I'll be out in a minute. Need to get dressed. You mind handing me my body armor?" I hoped he'd just hand it to me. But my luck doesn't run that way.
"You still owe me, Golan. You're two months late. I didn't want to make a scene at the party but I can't wait any longer. Where's the money?" Great. Now Golan had collectors. I made a mental note to research the people that I impersonate
"Uh...I...don't have it with me. But when I win this thing I'll.." the large Romassian laughed. It vibrated the mirror and sent a chill through my neck. I grabbed the soap and placed it in the center of the extra towel. An old trick I learned at the military academy. A punishment we'd give to cadets who screwed up. I spun the towel like a jump rope, twisting it until it was tight. The soap bar was thick in the middle and I placed the ends of the towel in my hand. Now I had something I could at least work with.
"You know you don't have a shot in this tournament. That cow of a girlfriend of yours is the only reason you're here. Now where's my money?!" I could hear the giant stand up, and the bed seemed to sigh in relief.
His large steps thumped toward the bathroom. I stood on the sink and pulled on the power lines in the light fixture. The lights went out but the cords I had pulled through sparked and arced blue flames. The door swung wide and the bedroom light fell on me. There I was, a towel wrapped around my waist and nothing else. The mammoths eyes grew wide as he realized who I was.
"You're not Golan!" he yelled, and grabbed me with his long arms. I tried to avoid him but the room was too small. I twisted on the shower and the water flowed out in a hiss. With a rough tug he tossed me like a rag doll out of the bathroom and onto the bed. I bounced on to the floor and shook off any pain. I stood, rolled up towel in my hand. His head ducked under the doorframe and I saw my chance.
With a roar, I leapt on the bed and threw myself at Salko. I hit him squarely on the forehead with the soap bar. It stung him briefly and he grabbed his head, blood starting to flow. My towel dropped off of me as I kicked at his mid-section. He took a few steps back into the darkness and I used the door to bash his skull. A cry of pain shook the room and he stumbled into the shower, landing squarely on his backside. Without hesitation I grabbed the wires and threw them into the stream of water. Smoke and flames lit up the room as electricity flowed through the behemoth. He flailed and screamed but soon he was unconscious and the water shut itself off. I reached in tentatively and checked for a pulse. Yep. Both were still strong.
I grabbed another towel and slowly got dressed. How the hell was I going to get this guy out of here and hidden by myself? I was in trouble. No doubt. I looked at the chronometer. Midnight. All this and I was going to miss my date too.
I couldn't turn Salko in. He'd wake up sometime and rat me out. I needed to hide him where he wouldn't be found. I laughed. Hide him? I can't even move him. A knock on the door interrupted my train of thought.
"Who is it?" I grabbed my blaster and approached the door.
"Pandora." I sighed in relief and opened the door.
Lady Luck had walked into my room.
