Darth Maul: Shadow Hunter

Chapter 4

Nute Gunray pushed the plate of fungus aside in irritation. It was his favorite dish: black mulch mold marinated in the alkaloid secretions of the blight beetle, seasoned to perfection, with the spores just beginning to fruit. Normally his taste and olfactory nodes would be quivering in ecstasy at the prospect of such a gastronomic experience. But he had no appetite; indeed, had not been able to look at food since the Sith Lord's last appearance on the bridge, when Sidious had noticed that Hath Monchar was missing.

"Take it away," he snapped at the service droid hovering respectfully nearby. The plate was removed, and Gunray stood, stepping away from the table. He faced one of the transparisteel ports, looking gloomily out at the infinite vista of the star field.

There was still no news of Monchar and no clue as to where he had gone. If the viceroy had to guess- and guessing was all he had at this point- he would say that his deputy viceroy had decided to go into business for himself. There were plenty of ways that the knowledge of the impending blockade could be converted into currency, enough currency to begin a new life on a new world. Gunray felt fairly confident that this was Monchar's plan, largely because he had thought of doing it himself more than once.

That didn't make it any less of a problem, however. Unless Monchar could be returned to the Saak'ak before Sidious contacted them again…

He heard the panel to his suite chime softly.

"Come," he said.

The panel slid open, and Rune Haako entered. The settlement officer of the Trade Federation forces crossed the room, sat down, and arranged his purple raiment with meticulous precision, smoothing the pleats assiduously before looking at Gunray.

"I assume there has been no further word of Hath Monchar?"

"None."

Haako nodded. He fiddled with his collar for a moment, then adjusted his bloused sleeves. Gunray felt a flash of irritation. He could read Haako like a data file; he knew the attorney had a suggestion to make regarding the situation, and he knew also that this circuitous approach to it was designed to put Gunray on the defensive. But protocol demanded that he show nothing of what he felt; to do so would be to acknowledge that Haako had the upper hand in the situation.

At last Haako looked up, meeting Gunray's eyes. "Perhaps I might suggest a course of action."

Gunray made a slight hand gesture designed to convey no more than polite interest. "By all means."

"In my offices for the Trade Federation I have had occasion to encounter a number of people with singular attributes and abilities." He adjusted the crossed points on his cowl. "I refer specifically to a certain human female named Mahwi Lihnn. For a prearranged fee she searches for and retrieves people who have strayed from their duties or who have committed crimes."

"You are speaking of a bounty hunter," Gunray said. He saw Haako restrain himself from smirking, and realized belatedly that by admitting knowledge of the term used for someone of such crass abilities he had lost face before his subordinate. He didn't care, however-he was too excited at the possibility the attorney's suggestion presented. "We could hire this Mahwi Lihnn to track down Monchar and bring him back before Sidious convenes with us again."

"Just so."

Gunray noted the veiled contempt in Haako's tone. He adjusted his own collar and took his time replying. His initial excitement at a potential solution to the problem had calmed slightly, and now he decided to show Rune Haako that one did not lightly play games of position with a commanding viceroy of the Federation. "And you.. know this personage?" he inquired, his tone and expression conveying just the right amount of disdain that anyone of Haako's station would admit to having had actual social intercourse with such a low individual.

Haako's look of smugness wavered. His fingers plucked nervously at a bit of filigree. "As I said, in the course of my duties as attorney and diplomatic attache for the Federation…"

"Of course." Gunray infused the two words with equal parts pity and haughtiness. "And the Trade Federation is most grateful to you for your willingness to fraternize with such… colorful.. characters, in hopes that their abilities may one day somehow be of use." He watched Haako's lips purse together as though the barrister had bitten into a rotten truffle, and continued. "To be sure, desperate times call for desperate measures. Though I regret having to ask this of a person of your stature, I hope you can find it within yourself to once again contact this Mahwi Lihnn, in order that we may satisfactorily resolve the Monchar situation.''

Rune Haako muttered an acquiescence and left. After the door closed, Nute Gunray nodded in satisfaction. Not bad, not bad at all. He had managed to implement a possible solution to the question of Monchar's disappearance, and at the same time had taken that insufferable prig Haako down a peg. He listened in pleasure to a faint rumbling in his gut sac that signified the return of his appetite. Perhaps he would give his dinner another try.

"Had th' Hurt primed for this," Lorn said. "Was ready t'part with a great deal o' cash for a real Jedi Holocron. Would've paid twice as much for one from th' Sith." He gazed dejectedly into the depths of his glass, swirling the remaining blue-green Johrian whiskey that had recently filled it. "Fifty thousand credits,th' cube was worth. Now've lost it and the fifteen thousand. All I had."

"It does put us in somewhat desperate straits financially," I-Five said.

The two were sitting at the bar near the back of the Green Glowstone Tavern not far from one end of the infamous Crimson Corridor section of the city. They were regular patrons, and the droid's presence there no longer caused much controversy, despite the sign at the entrance that proclaimed no droids allowed in Basic and several other languages.

"'S all my fault," Lorn muttered, more to the drink-stained counter than to I-Five. "Hadn't lost m'temper…" He fixed the droid with a somewhat bleary gaze. "Dunno why y' stay partners with me."

"Ah, now we come to the maudlin stage. Will this take long? I may want to put myself in cyberostasis until it's over."

Lorn grunted and signaled for another refill. " Y'can be a real bastard, y'know that?" he told I-Five.

"Let's see… according to my data banks, the primary definition of bastard is 'a child born of unwed parents.' However, a secondary usage is 'something of irregular or unusual origins.' In that respect, I suppose I qualify." When the bartender came over to fill Lorn's glass again, I- Five put his hand over it. "My friend has had enough neurons destroyed by various hydroxyl compounds for today. It's not like he has an overabundant supply in the first place."

The bartender, a Bothan, glanced at Lorn, then shrugged and moved on down the bar. A Duros wearing spacer's togs and sitting nearby looked at them, seeming to register the droid's presence for the first time. "You let your droid decide how much you can drink?" he asked Lorn.

"'S not my droid," Lorn said. "We're partners. Business associates." He pronounced the words carefully.

The Duros flickered nictitating membranes over his eyes in a sign of surprise and disbelief. "You're telling me that droid has citizenship status?"

"He's not telling you anything," I-Five said as he turned to face the Duros, "largely because he's so drunk he can barely stand. I'm telling you to mind your own business. My status in galactic society is not your concern."

The Duros glanced around, saw that the rest of the tavern's patrons were rather pointedly ignoring the exchange, shrugged, and went back to his drink. I-Five pulled Lorn off the bar stool and aimed him in the direction of the door. Lorn walked, weaving, across the room, then turned and faced the tavern.

"I was somebody, once," he told the group, most of whom didn't bother to look up. "Worked uplevels. Penthouse suite. Could see th' mountains. Damn Jedi- they did this to me." Then he turned and walked out, I-Five following.

Outside, the air was chill, and Lorn could feel a small amount of sobriety returning. The sun had set, and the long twilight of the equatorial regions had begun.

"Guess I told 'em, didn't I?"

"Absolutely. They were riveted. I'm sure they can't wait for the next thrilling installment. In the meantime, why don't we go home before one of the colorful locals decides to see how fast alcohol-soaked human tissue burns?"

"Good idea," Lorn agreed as I-Five took his arm and started walking.

They passed sidewalk vendors offering bootleg holos, glitterstim, and other illegal items for sale. Beggars of various species, wrapped in tattered cloaks, pawed at them for alms. They entered the nearest kiosk entrance to the underground, descending a Jong-broken escalator that ended in a winding corridor. It had been warm on the surface; down here it was like a sauna. The mingled body odor of various unwashed beings moving through the passageway, combined with the fungal reek permeating the walls, verged on hallucinogenic. Why can't they all smell like Toydar-ians? Lorn wondered.

They turned down a narrow side passage, its walls and ceiling a complex pattern of pipes, conduits, and cables. Flickering luminescent strips at irregular intervals provided dim illumination. Granite slugs oozed along the floor, requiring Lorn to pay attention to where he stepped- no small task in his condition. Eventually they reached the third in a series of recessed metal doors, which he opened after several tries with his keycard.

The windowless cubicle, a cell carved from the city's massive ferrocrete foundation, was designed for single occupancy, but since Lorn's roommate was a droid, they were not particularly cramped for space. There were a couple of chairs, an extensible wall cot, a tiny refresher, and a kitchenette barely big enough for a nanowave and food preserver. The compartment was spotlessly clean-another advantage of having a droid around.

Lorn sat on the edge of the cot and stared at the floor. "Here's all you need to know about the Jedi," he announced.

"Oh, please-not again."

"They're a bunch of self-serving, sanctimonious elitists."

"I have this entire rant recorded, you know. I could play a holo at fast speed; it would save tune."

"'Guardians of the galaxy' — don't make me laugh. All they're interested in guarding is their way of life."

"If I were you-a hypothetical situation the mere mention of which threatens to overload my logic circuits-I'd stop obsessing over the Jedi and start thinking about where my next meal is coming from. I don't require nourishment, but you do. You need something hot to peddle-fast."

Lorn glared at the droid. "I never should have disconnected your creativity damper." He brooded for a while longer, then said, "But you're right- no point dwelling in the past. Got to look ahead. What we need is a plan-right now." And with those words he fell backwards onto the cot and began to snore loudly.

I-Five stared at his recumbent companion. "Random evolution should never have been entrusted with intelligence," the droid muttered.