[Bounty Hunter Wars] - 03(6)

“Adequate.” Zuckuss still didn’t feel entirely at ease in such public surroundings. Proper bounty hunting, he felt, was best done in remote areas or in the depths of interstellar space, where it would have been just him, the target, and a high-powered weapon pointing in the target’s direction. That’d wipe the smile from this one’s face, Zuckuss thought. He glanced over at the table he’d left; 4-LOM was sitting as placidly as before, not even seeming to be interested at all in the action that was about to come down. Zuckuss turned back toward Sma’Da. “I was pretty sure that a creature in your line of business would be interested in news from Sullust. You’re probably already taking in bets on it.”

“Oh, I might.” The dangling animal heads bobbed as Sma’Da shrugged his broad shoulders. “It’s hard, though, to get any of my regular clientele to put down their credits, one way or another. The reports that have circulated, concerning the Imperial buildup near the moon of Endor, have made a great many creatures nervous. It’s one thing to bet on a minor battle here or there, a mere skirmish or a Rebel raid on an Imperial armaments depot, that sort of thing; quite another to place a wager on what could very likely be the end of this great game.” Sma’Da heaved an

immense, fat-quivering sigh. “If that should be the case-if Emperor Palpatine should indeed quash the Rebellion once and for all-how I shall miss these glorious days!” He shook his head, as though already immured in regret over a vanished past. “The Rebel Alliance has brought the radiant aspect of hope to every corner of the galaxy; and where there’s hope, there’s risk-taking. And then…” Sma’Da’s smile reappeared, even slyer than before. “There’s wagering. And that’s always profitable, for someone like me.”

The gambler’s words gave Zuckuss a measure of cold comfort. He’s no different than me, thought Zuckuss. Not that he had expected anything different; most of the galaxy’s denizens, in Zuckuss’s estimation, spent all their time looking out for Number One, namely themselves. If he had ever believed otherwise, he might have been tempted stay with the Rebel Alliance. But he was certain that idealism was a rare trace element in the universe’s composition, whereas greed was as ubiquitous as hydrogen atoms.

“I like profits as well,” said Zuckuss. One of the waiters had brought another drink, shimmering amethyst in color, and had placed it in front of him; he didn’t touch it. “That’s why I sought you out.”

“Good for you.” Sma’Da gave an appreciative nod. “And good for me, if whatever information you’ve brought with you should turn out useful. The more one knows, the easier it is to make odds. Though mind you”-he peered closer at Zuckuss- “it’s hard to take me by surprise on these things, anymore. There’s not much I haven’t heard about what’s been going on near Endor; I have excellent sources for all kinds of gossip and rumor.”

“I’m pretty sure this is something you haven’t heard before.” Zuckuss reached into his tunic.

“Ah.” Sma’Da put the tips of his glittering fingers together. “My pulse races with anticipation.”

“How’s this, then?” Zuckuss pulled out a blaster pistol and set its cold, hard muzzle against Drawmas Sma’Da’s forehead. “You’re coming with me.”

He had the satisfaction of seeing the gambler’s eyes

widen for a moment. Then they all but vanished again, from the upwelling pressure of Sma’Da’s expansive grin.

“That’s very funny. How amusing!” Sma’Da drew his hands apart, enough to clap them together again in appreciation. “Everyone-please observe!” He called out loudly to the crowd in the bar; eager faces swiveled in the direction of the table. “To what lengths creatures go merely to provide me with a few fleeting moments of amusement!” His laughter boomed against the walls, as though to frighten the play of colors against their surface. “Bringing in and waving around a blaster, in the one place it’s sure to be useless! Not even a power source for it!”

The laughter was contagious; Zuckuss could hear it sweep through the establishment like a wave breaking over and carrying away the staff as well as the patrons. Their bright, barking noise mounted louder, approaching some critical mass of hilarity. Zuckuss glanced over at 4-LOM, in the center of the establishment’s space; the droid bounty hunter was the only one not laughing. 4-LOM sat and waited with machinelike patience, knowing what was to come.

“You poor fool.” Drawmas Sma’Da hadn’t bothered to pull away from the blaster placed at his brow; he obviously wanted all the onlookers to relish the joke to its full. “Did you think I’d be somehow frightened by a lump of dead metal? Or did you not even notice what happened when you came in here, what little piece of that weapon was taken away from you by our good innkeeper’s minions? Really-” With one pudgy hand, he dabbed away the tears that had managed to squeeze past the folds surrounding his eyes. “It’s just too good.”