“It’s ready.” 4-LOM made the simple, quiet announcement. The droid bounty hunter leaned forward slightly, passing a small object underneath the table to Zuckuss. “Time to put our plans into action.”
Time was always the crucial factor. Despite his complaints, Zuckuss knew exactly why they had had to arrive at the bar so much earlier than their target. Some preparations required precisely measured amounts of time, things readied in silence and stealth, even if right under the inquisitive eyes of a bar full of ignorant onlookers. They don’t need to know, thought Zuckuss with a measure of satisfaction. But they will.
He took the object from 4-LOM’s hand, carefully minimizing his actions so that anyone glancing in this direction would have no clue of what might be happening beneath the table. The rest of the preparations were swiftly completed; there was no need for Zuckuss to watch his own hands going about their work. With this kind of equipment, so essential to a bounty hunter’s trade, he could have performed the necessary operations with his large eyes completely blindfolded.
“Okay,” said Zuckuss after a moment. He leaned back, chancing a quick peek under the table’s surface. A tiny blinking red light indicated that his part of the preparations had been completed satisfactorily. “Looks good to me.”
4-LOM gave a slight nod, a humanoid gesture that he had picked up somewhere along the way. “Then I suggest you proceed.”
It’s always up to me, grumbled Zuckuss to himself as he pushed back his chair and stood up. No matter who he had for a partner, somehow he always wound up doing the dirty work.
“Excuse me …” The crowd around Drawmas Sma’Da’s table had grown even larger and denser, just in the short while that Zuckuss had been getting ready. He shoved and wedged himself through the press of bodies, the din of their excited words and laughter clattering in his earholes. “Pardon me … I’ve got a message for the esteemed Sma’Da…”
The blinking dot of red light that Zuckuss had checked under the table with 4-LOM was safely hidden inside his close-fitting, equipment-studded tunic. A couple of quick,
sharp blows from the points of his elbows right to a few midsections of the closely packed crowd enabled him to work his way right up to the front of Sma’Da’s table. He gave a slight, formal bow as he found himself confronting the gambler over the trays of picked-over delicacies.
“A message?” Drawmas Sma’Da was well known for his alert attention to voices from the crowd. “How interesting. I wasn’t expecting any such; these aren’t my usual business hours.” The gambler’s eyes were barely visible through the rounded folds of flesh, pushed upward by his exuberant smile. “But,” he continued with an expansive wave of his grease-shiny hands, “I might be interested in hearing it. If it’s important enough.”
Sma’Da’s words hardly counted as a witticism, but the smiles on the faces of his escorts widened, and his flatterers in the assembled crowd broke into loud, appreciative guffaws.
“Judge its importance for yourself.” Zuckuss gazed back into the gambler’s fat-swaddled eyes. “The information in it comes from Sullust.”
The smile on Sma’Da’s own face didn’t diminish, but what could be seen of his eyes grew brighter and more avarice-driven, like glints
of razor-edged durasteel. ” ‘Sullust’? That doesn’t sound any chimes in my memory.” He tilted his head to one side, as coyly as possible for something so massive. “Who is this Sullust you speak of?”
At Zuckuss’s back, the laughter and the hubbub of voices had died away. They knew what the name meant-the bar was exactly the sort of crossroads where information about Imperial and Rebel comings and goings would be traded.
“Not who,” replied Zuckuss, “but where. And I think you already know that.” Sma’Da had based his entire gambling enterprise upon rumors and secrets, the tiny scraps of information that enabled him to calculate odds with such precision. “Don’t you?”
“Perhaps so.” Sma’Da’s golden smile gleamed even more dazzlingly. “But only a fool turns down an opportunity to learn more. Dear things-” He turned to his female companions on either side of him, one after the other. “Amuse yourselves elsewhere for a little while. I need a moment alone with this interesting person.” He fluttered his beringed paws at the crowd. “Make way, make way.” Pouting, the females detached themselves and floated away. The sycophants and other assorted hangers-on took the cue as well, dispersing while whispering among themselves and keeping watch on the gambler from the corners of their eyes. “There,” said Sma’Da as Zuckuss sat down beside him. “Much more private now, wouldn’t you say?”