Excessive Inflation - a tale from the Bounty Hunters' Guild

"So you're the big bad bounty hunter now, huh, 'Holochronic?'" asked the skinny human with the blond hair and spice-blasted eyes.

"Don't call me that."

"Oooh, scary. Gonna get your homeboy Boba Fett on me?"

"Don't talk about that guy, what are you, stupid?" Casting glances around the cantina. Nobody seemed to be paying attention to the two humans, but in a place like that, with a name like that rattling around, you could never be too sure.

"Yeah, like he cares about your stupid ass. Isn't he dead, anyway?"

"That's what they say."

"So what in the Emperor's Black Butt are you so scared of, you little ewok?"

The taller human in modified riot gear stares at the other. It's a cold look, and actually seems to shut the motormouth up for a minute.

Then the skinny one starts laughing.

"Alright, badass, what do you want me to call you if not 'Holochronic'?"

"My name would do."

"Right, Holochronic it is."

"Flast. Nindo Flast."

"Oh, and I suppose you want your Corellian Dry shaken, not stirred."

Another attempt at a cold stare.

"So are you seriously a bounty hunter now?"

"Yep."

"Right, so how many guys have you killed?"

"Five."

"Sithspit, really? Those all contracts?"

"One of them was. The other four were bodyguards and so on. One of them was CorSec."

"You lie."

"I don't."

"So what, you just got back in from killing one of them?"

"Yeah."

"Right. So how long ago did you whack this CorSec dude?"

"About 3 weeks ago."

The other one purses his lips and stares his friend down. "So here you are, in the middle of a cantina in space not far from Corellia, where they no douby have a bounty on YOUR head, maybe even a deathmark, and you're not even hiding your face."

"Uh, yeah, something like that."

"Uh huh. So who was the target?" Turning to the Bothan bar girl, he said, "Could I have another?"

"Sure, hon."

"Target was a spice merchant name of Leesk Mo'byai..."

"Mo'byai is cutting in on my trade. He works for another Bothan scum named Yu'fialt," the big human across the table from me said. I couldn't make out details of his face - the lights in the bar behind him were really bright. I could see a murderous glint in his eye that marked him as a kindred spirit...

"Hold up, how could you see any glint in his eye?"

"What do you mean?"

"The light's all behind him and whatever, right?"

"Yeah."

"And you were wearing that suit, yeah? The NON-reflective black suit you have on now."

"Uh, yeah..."

"So what was casting the light that glinted off his eye?"

"I don't know, but it was there, definitely there."

"And if he's such a kindred spirit, why didn't-"

"He didn't want to get his hands dirty, okay? He's got a front to maintain."

"Okay, man, chill."

"I want him whacked. Fifty thousand goes straight to you, half now, half later." The big guy was leaning towards me. I could smell the coppery flavor of Ithorian Whiskey on his breath.

"Dude, Ithorian Whiskey is sweet, not coppery."

"Shut up."

"Shutting up."

"How do you want it done?" I asked the big man.

"I want it loud. There's a party at his penthouse in three days time. That gives you two days to make it to Corellia, and a full day to scout the building."

"That's not a lot of time."

"You come highly recommended."

"Who in Vader's Cup rec-"

"Just shut up, please?"

So I get to Corellia, check out Mo'Byai's place, it's huge, right? The building he's housed in is like 50 stories tall, has private security, and it turns out a droid system for motion detection and things like that. I figure out that the best way to sneak in is going to be with the catering staff, right? Hide a couple blasters in the focus cookers, and a detonator or two in the carts' repulsors, so they don't show up on scans.

Works like a charm. I get in, or, rather, my gear does. Just as I'm coming up in this stupid orange and yellow uniform, this guy breaks off from the door guard and tells me to follow him. He's got that cop demeanor, right? So I follow him. He takes me off into this side room, looks like a security station, flips out a CorSec ID, and tells me he knows who I am.

"I'm sorry?" I ask him, wishing I had a blaster on me.

"We received a tip-off that there would be an assassination attempt on Mo'byai tonight. Your holo accompanied the tip."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I tell him, sizing him up and deciding where the best place to strike is going to be. "I work for Mr. Bentiss, have for a while now. I've never even shot a blaster."

"I never said anything about a blaster, did I?"

He had me there. Before I could jump him, he whips out a big old blaster pistol and tells me the last thing I expected to hear. "You're officially with CorSec now. We want this bastard taken out. I can't acknowledge your assistance in this case, of course, but think of this as a Get Out of Detention Free card."

"How do I know you won't take me down?"

"You don't."

I wasn't worried.

"This CorSec guy was hiring you?"

"No, he was going to look the other way while I did my job."

"Why?"

"Because he wanted this guy taken down."

"Why not do it himself?"

"Because you know how it is, these guys get out of Detention in like two hours."

"Why not just shoot the guy himself? And why create this huge scene at a party?"

"I don't know, but that's not the point."

"Oh, okay."

So I scope out the crowd. A couple of hundred guests, about fifty service people like the caterers, a couple dozen security guys, and a bunch of dancers and entertainers. Some fine looking women, let me tell you. Corellian fashion this year tends to the skimpy...

"Actually, it's in a neo-Conservative style right now, patterned after Organa-Solo's personal preferences."

"Didn't realize you were on the editorial staff at 'Galactic Fashion Magazine'."

Smoke roiled out of the other man's nose as he laughed at that one. "Strictly freelance, but do go on."

I see a couple of the other catering staff have these little comm-units on them, you know, the kind that you can tuck right into your ear? And they seem awfully interested in Mo'Byai too. I'm thinking they're maybe assassins, sent by somebody else, to do the same thing I'm about to do.

I figure I'll let them do the nasty work, then get them on their way out. Figure if they are assassins, maybe there's a bounty out on them in some system or another. This way, if any of Mo'Byai's guys are still standing when they're done, I look like a hero to the locals, get away clean, and still claim the bounty.

"Pretty good plan, fast on your feet."

"Thanks."

So apparently these two had the same idea I did for sneaking in their gear. They keep scoping the access panels on the food carts, like they're making sure nobody's messed with them. One of them takes a cart in back as Mo'Byai is giving his big speech to his guests, and I see him pull out, no joke, a flippin NightStinger. He ducks back further into the kitchen, and his buddy reaches down into the access panel on the cart that's right in front of him... which was one of my carts. The one with the detonators. His jaw hits the floor, and he starts scoping the rest of the staff. Before he spots me, I snag one of my blasters and duck back into the crowd, angling for the door area.

About this time, I run slap into the big CorSec guy that had pulled me aside before. He drags me to one side, into the coat check area, and says, "Your target is the other direction, buddy."

"Did you get a tip-off about other assassins? Or are they here from you to take care of me?" I asked, my blaster menacingly pointed at his gut.

"What in the Empire are you talking about?"

"He's probably referring to me," said a voice behind me. I threw myself back at the wall, pointing my hold-out piece at the newcomer while my heavy pistol was pointed at the big guy.

"Hold-out piece? Thought both your blasters were in the cooker."

"Yeah, but I had one up my sleeve."

"Why didn't security spot it?"

"The, uh, the CorSec guy pulled me out of the security lineup, remember?"

"But what were you going to do with it to get it past security?"

"What do you mean?"

"If you had it on you, obviously they were going to spot it. Good thing your boy pulled you aside, huh?"

"Uh."

Somewhere along the line, the big guy had pulled his own blaster and had it pointed at the new guy. The new guy was nicely dressed, looked like a guest at the party. I don't know where he'd hidden that cannon, because his jacket was cut really closely, dapper, you know? But there the three of us are, guns pointed at each other, when a stun grenade or something goes off in the main room and people start screaming and boosting jets for the door.

The three of us just stand there, facing each other down.

"Who's this guy?" me and the new guy both ask at the same time.

"Nobody," says the big dude.

"One of yours?" they both ask.

"No," I tell them. "Who in the Emperor's undergarments are you?" I ask the new guy, waving my blaster in his face.

"CorSec, Mister," he tells me, flipping his badge. I swear, if I never see another CorSec badge in my life it'll be too soon.
"I knew you lied to me, you sithspawn," I ground out at the big guy.

"How do you grind out words?" the skinny guy asked.

"Like this - SHUT. UP."

The place had pretty much cleared out when we heard blaster fire start up. One of the blasters was getting closer to us, and one of the fake waiters backed into the room, firing a carbine at somebody in the main room.

The big CorSec agent shot the waiter in the head with his blaster, and immediately the other CorSec shot him with a stun blast. Big guy held on for a second, trying to bring his blaster in on the new guy, when he pitched onto his face. I looked up to see the second agent snatch my hold-out and turn to start firing into the main room. He had his back against the door jam so he could keep an eye on me with his peripheral vision while he laid down fire on the guys in the other room. He kept my hold-out leveled at me - MY hold-out, and seemed to be doing a decent job.

Suddenly, a guy drops into the room through a ceiling tile, lands in a crouch about five feet from me, and gets a blast in the face from the guy on the door. In the second that his attention was off the main room, a blaster bolt caught him on the arm, and he spun out of the room, flopping onto his back. I ducked down and fired up into the ceiling panel - I had a feeling that the drop-in visitor hadn't been alone, and I blasted his partner in the eye as he was raising his carbine.

I stuck the gun in my belt, jumped up and grabbed the edge of the hole in the ceiling, and crawled up there. It was some sort of duct work, and light was coming in through vents along each side of the passage.

I moved like a ghost through the ducts until I was looking in over the master bedroom, where they had stashed Mo'Byai, a couple of women, and two bodyguards. Sighting in on the bothan drug dealer, I squeezed off two shots. He went down like a sack of dirty laundry.

"Dirty laundry, did you come up with that yourself?"

A dirty look.

"Yeah, anyway... go on."

The two bodyguards spun around and started spraying fire at the vent. I don't know what the damn thing was made of, but it wasn't too sturdy. The structural damage dropped me right out into the master bedroom, next to one of the hookers. I ducked down behind the bed in the face of the hurricane of blaster fire they had unleashed.

"The BED stood up to blaster fire?"

"Don't know what that thing was made of, but I bet it gave Mo'Byai a sore back..."

The door slammed open, and the blaster fire was cut in half almost instantly. I poked my head and blaster around the end of the bed, and cut down the bodyguard who was turning to face the door. "Who's there?" a voice called from that direction.

"I'm with CorSec," I told the guy. I wasn't really lying, quite, considering the big guy had more or less deputized me.

"I don't recognize your voice," the other man said. "Toss your blaster this way, then get up."

It was the other waiter, the one with the NightStinger. Both the hookers were dead, and so were the bodyguards. "You shoot Mo'Byai?" he asked.

"Yeah," I told him, my voice glacial.

"Can't say I'm sorry to hear it," he said. "Stay right there, I have to check on the boss."

I didn't argue - it was a NightStinger he had on me.

"Yeah, which is like the lowest-power blaster rifle Xerrol ever made," the skinny guy said.

"Head shot will still take you out."

"Fair enough."

I didn't have time to react when the big CorSec agent came around the corner and shot the waiter in the back of the head. "You got that bastard Mo'Byai, good," he said, stepping into the room. "Come on, I'll get you out of here," he told me, gesturing me towards him.

I came around the bed real slow, keeping an eye on the muzzle of his blaster. I didn't think I could trust a cop, even one with the good sense to be shooting other cops. He was between me and my gun by the time I got to him, and as I started to reach down to grab it, he snagged my arm in an iron hard grip. "You won't be needing that," he told me, and started to pull me upwards. I let him straighten me up before exploding into action.

I yanked my arm forward and up, turning halfway, to reverse his hold. I continued the momentum of my spin, shoving him hard towards the doorway, where he slammed into the frame, spinning off-balance into the hall. I snatched up my blaster just as he stopped himself against the opposite wall and raised his. Three shots went off simultaneously, one from up the hall, one from my blaster, and one from his weapon.

His shot caught me high and right on the chest, throwing me back onto the bed, but not before mine nailed him in the chest. The third shot slammed into his head, throwing him sideways and back.

I pushed myself up so I could see the door, holding my blaster in my right hand.

"You were holding it in the hand that got shot?"

"Uh, yeah, I was adrenal."

"Mhm."

The wounded cop in the good suit staggered around the corner, his blaster level. "Don't shoot," he told me.

"Why not?"

"Because I can get you out of here and make you look like a hero."

I thought about it. "Okay," I told him and flopped onto my back. "Who was that big dude?"

"Dirty agent. He was Mo'Byai's lieutenant, and my guess is he was going to let you whack Mo'Byai so that he could take over this part of the Yu'Fialt organization."

"Scumbag."

"Pretty much. I don't like bounty hunters," he said, "But it's probably a good thing you were here. If you swear to me you'll stay off Corellia forever, I'll let you go."

"Okay," I told him.

"Wow," said the skinny guy. "Pretty exciting. Sounds like a holovid I saw once, but pretty exciting. Looks like your arm is still a little gimpy, though."

"Yeah, I didn't exactly have time for a full bacta treatment."

"So the second cop let you go, huh?"

"Yep, in return for a little information."

"What information is that?" The skinny guy asked, his hand sliding out of sight.

"Who ratted me out." There was a blaster shot, and the skinny guy slumped back. "Didn't think I'd find out it was you, did you, 'Buddy'?"

By Holochronic