“Are you really sure about this?” The human youth turned to his dark-haired companion nervously.
“Well,” Bentre paused as he glanced at the kid out of the corner of his eye, “it isn’t as thou gh La’venna hasn’t taken care of us both. I heard about that little scuffle you had on the lower levels. Think about it, if she hadn’t swept into the fray would you be here today?”
This gave the boy pause. “I s-suppose not.”
The kid always stuttered when he was nervous. He was thinking far too much, and that sort of thing could get you into all sorts of trouble. “Besides, Reg,” he addressed the boy by the abbreviated nickname,”you have me here to help.”
“Now you are just worrying me even more.” Despite the protest, a small smile hinted at the corners of Reg’s mouth.
“Well, at least I can keep you on your toes. It’s not like that bit in the cantina at Level Six. Just give it a few more weeks and you can se-”
The words were drowned out as the blare of another vehicle barked out. Bentre felt the speeder buck hard beneath them. For a few moments, all was confusion. Sharp pain etched through the Corellian’s body, and a ringing in his ear made the world eerily silent for several seconds. When his hearing returned, he could hear a deep voice. The sound ran his blood cold. He peeked at the kid, and saw Reg pressing a hand up to his forehead against what looked to be a nasty wound. At least he was alive.
Looking around, Stahoes’ eyes came to rest on the one thing he wanted to see less than anything in the damned galaxy, an old Sullustan who had helped to scam him out of of his credits in a big way. The Sullustan’s speeder lowed to the ground, beside where Bentre’s own speeder had stalled out.
The bastard must have hit them just right. The Corellian kept telling himself he would replace the scavenged parts eventually, but had never gotten around to it. It was too bad really because that might have kept him out of this situation.Looking to Reg, he jerked a thumb at the Sullstan, his eyes wide in alarm. Reg turned his head, not comprehending quite what was going on.
“Now really, mister Stahoes,” the Sullustan approached, “it is a real shame that we had to meet like this again. Doesn’t it bite, that once again you find yourself sold out by your friends?”
“What are you on about, Garan?” Bentre growled, his hand slipping down to an old DL-44 at his side.
“She sold you out, kid. It is a real shame too. I suppose at one point or another you end up losing your use to one person or another. I would have hoped after fleeing that old outpost that you would have found yourself in a better place than this. Alas, Nar Shadda is not a place for a young whelp such as yourself.” Garan’s tone was almost conversational. In their time apart, Stahoes realized, he feels just as much in control now as then.
“What do you want?” Reg’s voice cracked as he clutched at the restraining belt around his waist. “Why did you hit our speeder?”
“Oh, there are so many things I want, kid: a prettier lady, more credits, a bigger apartment back home, a shiny new blaster. I could just go on and on. Right now, however, it isn’t so much what I want, as what your boss wants. Which happens to be,” Garan lifted a beaten blaster pistol and pointed it as Stahoes, “this man’s skin. His hide is worth a tidy little sum of profits. She isn’t too happy to find out what you did before we last parted.”
“A planet of thieves, murderers and smugglers, and she is worried about what I *supposedly* did?” The Corellian’s lip drew back in a sneer. “You know as well as I do those charges were false.
“And alas, security reports can be so very fickle. Supposedly, you shot first. The funny thing is, I really do not care. You are wanted, dead or alive, and I happen to prefer dead. It means you can’t fight being brought in.”
“You lying pile of *poodoo*.” Reg pulled himself up from his seat, ignoring the blood trickling down his face. The boy’s hand was on his own blaster now. “
Without a second though, Garan turned his blaster to the youth, peering down the length of the weapon. That moment was all that Bentre needed- in one swift motion he lifted the DL-44 to firing position and took three desperate shots. Two missed their target, but the third collided soundly with the Sullustan’s shoulder.
Without another word, Stahoes grabbed Reg, and pointed down a nearby alleyway. Stepping backward, the Corellian fired wildly at Garan before running toward the indicated escape. In that moment, he couldn’t hear the sound of Reg’s footsteps behind him. He didn’t know if his Sullustan attacker was following close, or if he was going to get away clean.
He had one thought in his mind now. He was going to get back to La’venna. She had treated them all like family, watching after them like a benevolent den mother over a motley crew of malcontents and street thieves. He had never expected that she would turn on any of them. Apparently, the galaxy was constantly scheming to screw him over again and again.
He should have known better. He should have seen this coming, Yes, he was going to make his way back to La’venna. He was going to find his way back to here, and put a few blaster bolts into her as well. More than that, he wanted answers. He had been fool enough to trust someone on the smuggler’s moon, that was his chief sin. He had chosen to trust someone after weeks of working for her and had finally grown comfortable with the idea. She wasn’t going to get away with this treachery. One way or the next, she was going to receive her just reckoning.