Off The Record: The Games Hutts Play

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Coruscant- Two weeks after The Battle of Sarapin

Kazaar was drunk.

And not the 'I just gotta new job' drunk or 'I just completed a dangerous mission and got out safely' drunk. Or even 'my team just came back t'win a smashball series after bein' down 3 game to One' drunk. Naw...this was th'my team lost a series after being up 3-1' or 'I had a poodoo of a week and I gotta f'get it' drunk.

Or 'My old boss just kidnapped me and is threatening t'turn me over to a buncha mooks who hate me' drunk.

Kazaar staggered against th'duracrete of Coruscant's many streets, trying t'make it back to his apartment. He'd been drinking early that night afta 'tucking th'Kid into bed' as they jokingly called it.

It was a deal she and her dad worked out...Estelle got 'er own apartment, but her bodyguard had t'live near her. Kazaar'd quipped the two of 'em oughta just move in together if 'Jason the Younger' continued t'be concerned 'bout safety. That'd illicited a nervous smile from 'The Kid' which her handler only smirked at.

The two apartments were only a block or so apart, which meant neither of them had t'wake up too early when Estelle had university duties, plus it made training a helluva lot easier too.

But th'difference between th'two sections of The Galactic City (even a block apart) was amazing. 'The Kid' lived in th' Fobosi District inna rather modest lookin' apartment. She'd decorated it with various art paintings and sculptures, Kazaar didn't completely care for (he never could figure out what th'hell a Woostroid statue was tryin' t'say) but hey...if it worked f'The Kid' who the frack was he t'say otherwise. She also had a copy of Killik Twilight which wasn't that bad t'look at.

Kazaar's 'apartment' (if it could even be called that) was an old industrial complex in The Works which'd been converted into various domiciles. It was cheap and no one asked questions as t'why people did what they did.

Which was good'n bad. It was good 'cause no one ever complained when Kazaar was up late workin'. It was bad 'cause no one ever called f'help if the Imps ever raided or someone got jumped by six Trandoshans and a Rodian.

Especially if those Trannies were a part of 'The Crimson Eclipse'.

The former bounty hunter had been walkin' back from 'The Kid's' place when they struck, pullin' him into an alley. Kazaar'd fought well, killin' two of th'damned Lizardheads and the Rodian, but th'others just started poundin' him. By th'time they were done Kazaar was pretty punchy.

He'd been dragged kickin' and screamin' to The Crimson Corridor. The slaving organization may've been pissed that both Estelle and Kazaar'd destroyed their Trandosha operation, but Kazaar was sure as hell not 'bout t'die without a fight. But when he noticed the club he was bein' taken to, Kazaar knew death wasn't in the picture. Not yet at least.

'Club Twi'lek' had been a front f'Gorgja the Hutt since the start of the Clone Wars. The blue-green Hutt hardly ever visited it, he preferred t'stay on Ylesia and his Nal Nokko Empire. But there he was...his bulbous form resting comfortably on a dais. His green-brown eyes stared at his former #2 bounty hunter. Kazaar was sure there was a smile on the Hutt's face...even if he couldn't read it.

"Gorgja...what've ya fallen on hard times or something?" Kazaar was belligerant as always, "What ya worried I ain't gonna show up if ya call?"

The Hutt stared at Kazaar, "Smeeleeya whao toupee upee, Kazaar."

A smirk, "Switch t'Basic ya overgrown slug."

The crime boss' laugh was like his body...fat 'n boisterous. Kazaar hated it.

"Sie batha ne beechee?" another chuckle, "Careful Kazaar...you could end up as bantha food."

A glare from th'hunter, "What the hell do ya want Gorgja? Why send 'The Crimson Eclipse' afta me?"

"Because," Gorgja replied, taking a bite offa a chuba, "You don't always reply to me. I was beginning to think you didn't care...even after the Russard Bounty."

The bounty hunter pulled a cigar from his jacket pocket, letting out a sigh of relief. It hadn't been broken by the lizardheads. He paused before lighting th'cigar t'stare at his former boss.

Something wasn't right...he couldn't place it, but Gorgja was acting...wrong. The two'd never seen eye-t'eye 'bout things, but he'd always treated his employees fair...well fair forra Hutt. One thing was f'sure...Gorgja'd never kidnapped him just for a 'talk'.

Something was up.

"Drop th'act Gorgja," Kazaar lit his cigar, "I know forra fact ya ain't Jabba th'Hutt. Now...what th'frack is th'problem?"

There was a sigh from the Hutt...or atleast Kazaar thought it was a sigh. Never could tell with those damn things.

"Predka's become...even more of a problem."

A glower crossed Kazaar's bruised face. Predka Oorko the Hutt was considered Gorgja's chief rival in the Nal Nokko syndicate. She was ruthless, loved slavery, spice...all vices. She was also tied in heavily with th'Imps...or 'least was rumoured. Kazaar didn't like 'er...neither did Gorgja...but she was powerful, so the latter tolerated her, while the former avoided her.

"What's the schutta done now?"

"My sources within her organization say she and Crei are plotting something."

So that's what this was 'bout. If Predka and the albino bastard hooked up...it'd spell trouble for Gorgja. Essentially, it was a political move.

"So what? I don't like either of 'em, but I don't mess with ya guys anymore...I'm retired remember?"

A chuckle went up from Gorgja and the Trandoshans, "You un-retired when you took the Russard Bounty, Kazaar."

Frack.

"Also, Kazaar...you were asking about the Crimson Eclipse?"

The hunter gave a smirk, "Yeah. Why th'hell are ya working with those bastards. They almost sold a frackin' missionary kid, Gorgja. They don't even deserved t'be honored by their damned Scorekeeper. That one fracked up religion."

A mummur went up from the lizardheads. One of them, muscular one with half his teeth missing, roiled a challenge. He started t'step forward, but was held back by one of the other ones.

"C'mon Tranny ya wanna go?" Kazaar was starting t'get mad. This wasn't turning out good.

Gorgja turned his eyes to face his employee, "I want you to meet the rest of the Eclipse. Yavassk Vokko and his clan brothers. They're quite interested in having another...talk with you."

Double Frack.

"If you don't do this job, Aurelias," Gorgja's tone was rough, "I will turn you over to the Trandoshans for judgement."

Triple Frack.

"You have four days Kazaar...t'take care of th'problem."

Kazaar'd been released by th'Trandoshans but not before they lay another beatin' on him. And they'd taken 'The Twins'. As collateral.

The former bounty hunter spent the rest of the night drinking at a local bar. And he didn't quit 'til he was staring at ten fingers on each hand.

This wasn't gonna be easy...Hutts had a way of surviving a helluva lotta stuff. There was rumor 'bout one Hutt who had half his head missing and still lived. Damned things were tough t'kill...even tougher t'work with.

Damned Gorgja, he thought as he tried t'get back to his apartment without heaving his guts out.

Kazaar gave a smirk. That's why he was th'best.

Then he hurled th'alcohol back on th'permacrete street and collapsed in front of his apartment.

Kazaar was inna fetal position when Estelle found him th'next morning.

[Estelle Russard]

It was always on a morning that was important.

It was somehow some cosmic karmic joke on humankind. The day you needed to look great for a job interview, your hair fritzed out or you got a huge red bump on the end of your nose. Or the morning that you couldn't miss an end-term exam or had to turn in a year-making-or-breaking assignment you got every stop light, or your alarm didn't go off and you overslept, or as in today's case, your driver didn't show up..

Estelle looked out her apartment window for the umpteenth time, her eyes scanning like dual laser beams for the familiar sleek speeder, and the familiar scowling driver at its wheel. And for the umpteenth time she was dissapointed.

"Where are you??" Estelle growled out between gritted teeth, her irritation at Kazaar's tardiness growing with each passing vehicle.

She hit the re-call on her comm and was rewarded with yet another infuriating "bip-bip". Busy. Who the heck was he talking to at this hour? If it was her father -- or worse, her grandfather -- having one of their needless, yet regular "just checking in" conversations, she was really gonna blow a fuse.

An uneasy feeling tried once or twice to hook into Estelle's psyche, but it stood no real chance given her state of agrivation. It wasn't like Kazaar to be late - just last night she'd joked about him being Old-Reliable, like that comet that was so named because it blew by the city planet in a streak of red flame every Summer Soltice. Kazaar was probably just messing with her, teaching her a lesson for being cheeky.

But today was not a good day for this.

Today was one of those days.

She had till 9 o'clock to hand in her "Designs of Empire Glory" - an individual assignment each student had been given to express their impression of a Battle Monument of their choice, rendered in water colour and which counted for 40 percent of the term mark. She'd stayed up half the night completing hers - a ground-upward view of Monument Plaza and in particular, the Statue of Palpatine. The scope and scale expounded outward and up from the origin of the point of view, giving an overwhelming impression of immensity and domination. Estelle was very proud of it, and she felt sure it would go a long way to keeping her cover as an art-student at the Tarkin University in tact, despite her many absences due to rebel activities.

"Where are you??" she expostulated again, bip-bipping her comm once more.

Giving up on waiting for him, Russard grabbed her portfolio, and her coat as an after-thought, and left the apartment. She'd hovercab it to Kazaar's and make him pay the fare. See how funny the lesson was then..

******************

Taking action had a calming effect on Estelle, and as the cab neared where Kazaar lived, that uneasy feeling came to her again. This time it took root. The sudden thought that perhaps her partner was in danger made her try his comm again. Still busy. She bit her lip as real concern settled on her.

"Just up here..." she directed the driver. "On the right, a couple more doors..Here, stop!" Estelle leapt from the cab, "Wait for me, please"

Running to the entry court of Kazaar's building, Estelle was brought up sharply when she saw him crumpled in a heap on the stoop. She could hear his comm bipping, and a wave of guilt washed over her.

"Aurelias! Aurelias" she called softly as she crouched next to him, checking his vitals. He wasn't dead, so that was something. But he looked awful, and smelt...ugh. Kazaar reeked of stale smoke and bourbon. He was drunk. Drunk!

Estelle rolled him over to get a better look and immediately she saw his face and knuckles bruised red and blue.

Ok, more than drunk. Worse than drunk.

"Aurelias" she said gently, "Can you hear me? Can you get up?"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Quick as as Cathar, Kazaar's hand shot out and grasped 'The Kid' by th'throat. His eyes were slits and Estelle knew he didn't truly see her.

"Aurelias," she choked, "It's...me."

It was then he let go and Estelle thought she heard the name, "Ashley," slip from his mouth. But she couldn't tell.

Kazaar propped his body against his door, spending a couple moments catching his breath. His head hurt in multiple places and he felt...grimy. Like he'd been fileted and had his skin placed back on his body. It was frackin' awful.

"Hey Kid," he finally breathed after a couple minutes. He pressed his fingers 'gainst his nose and squinted.

"Th'hell am I?"

"Your apartment you goon!" Estelle shot at him, thankful he was okay. She glanced over her shoulder where the cab was still waiting. She really had t'get her assignment in but she couldn't leave her partner behind.

"Are you okay? What happened?"

"Gimme a minute t'get my head straight, Kid," there was another pause as Kazaar massaged his nose, "That frackin' gartal. Sold me out."

"Who?"

"Gorgja. The son of a bitch made a deal with th'Trannies.

"He wants someone dead. Guess who those bastards want t'do it?"

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle's mouth compressed into a crooked line at the news.

"Trouble just seems to seek you out, doesn't it" she said. "Here," she added, struggling to get him to his feet, "lets get you inside and fixed up. Then we can tackle the Gorgja thing."

She held up her hand to signal the cabbie that she needed more time and his response was not exactly polite. In short-shrift, he'd unloaded her portfolio at their feet and was holdling his hand out for the fare.

Kazaar called him a jerk through broken lips and the cabbie gave the universal sign for "right-back-at-ya"

"Forget about him, Aurelias," she said, paying him, "we got bigger problems" and with effort, she got her partner indoors and onto his suprisingly comfortable couch.

"Who's the target?" Estelle asked as she carefully prodded and poked at Kazaar's ribs.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

The former bounty hunter...okay current bounty hunter according t'that aruetyc Gorgja...laid his head against th'comfortable couch and closed his eyes. He felt like hell. Those Force-damned Tranny's had really done a number on 'im.

Kazaar rubbed his temples, trying t'release the pressure on 'em, when his nose crinkled at th'smell of caf. He opened his black, bloodshot eyes and gave an approving smirk as Estelle placed a steaming mug, as well as a quarter-full glass of water, in front of him. He woulda prefered a beer, but 'The Kid' was never too keen on it. 'Least not this early.

Kazaar gulped part of the water down, swished the rest 'round his mouth, and tried t'get the bile outta his mouth. Then he spat it back into the glass and took a couple sips from the mug.

"They call 'er 'The Ice Slug', Kid. Real name's Predka Oorko. And she ain't someone ya wanna mess with." The Rebel spy pulled a light-colored cigar from th'humidor by the couch, then lit with a silver butane lighter.

He exhaled th'smoke angrily and continued, "Schutta scum took bets on how many rancors it'd take t'kill 'er mom. And her mom was pretty frackin' bad too."

"So what does Gorgja have to do with all this?" Estelle had a pretty good idea.

Her partner paused another moment. "They're part of th'same criminal organization. Gorgja's tried t'check 'er power forra while, but 'parently she and the Albino're talking."

Estelle thought a moment. It made sense why Aurelias' old boss would want him to stop it. But...

"...why're the Trandoshans' involved?"

Kazaar sipped his drink, "They want me dead 'cause of what you, me, 'n Lahakka did. And they got some leader t'back 'em on their quest."

He gave a small smirk, "So someone else wants me dead. Big frackin' surprise."

[Estelle Russard]

The Albino, well, that was interesting. And worrisome.

Crei was a ruthless operator, and one best kept at a distance. Last thing they wanted was him paring up with another Crimelord and mutually advancing their interests.

"Oorko is the Hutt that runs the Stardust Corridor on Nar Hutta isn't she? Took over from Prince Daglin, or whatever he called himself..."

"Duke Daglin" corrected Kazaar, "And if by 'took over' you meant had him beaten t' a bloodied pulp and sunk in th' slime pits of Rutagua, then, yeah, thats 'er" He slurrped his caf and squinted at Estelle from over his mug, "Ehh, the big slug's due" he said philisophically.

"So...you're gonna do this -Work for Gorgja again?" Estelle sounded un-surprised.

"If 'its all the same t'you kid, I'd prefer not t'be beat t'death by declining." He winced as he put his mug on the coffee table. "I always pictured dyin' an old man w'two or three Twi'lek dancers--or even nurses......oh, never mind kid"

He laughed at her face, that is until she dabbed his cuts and abrasions with iodine, shooting stinging bolts up his nerve endings.

"You think you could stay on topic?" she scolded, and his crooked smirk broadened. Estelle could feel him grinning at her and did her best to ignore him. Which was quite impossible.

"You love this life, dont you?" she said in an attempt to scold him, but he surprised her by going very quiet and very still.

Sensing the shift in mood, she looked up, not expecting to catch such a distant look in his eyes.

Getting up from the couch, she went into his room and riffled through the closet until she came up with a shirt - black with thin orange print swirls on it - and handed it to him. "Who is Ashley?" she asked.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Wordlessly, Kazaar peeled off his slashed tank-top and slid th'shirt on his body. Kinda ironic 'The Kid' had handed him a shirt Ashley'd given t'him a week before she died.

Smoke came from his lips as he stared down th'end of his cigar. Estelle was waiting patiently by his side, a concerned look across her face.

"Aurelias? You okay?"

The bodyguard gave an unconvincing smirk, "Yeh. I'm fine.

"What're th'art supplies for?"

[Estelle Russard]

"An assignment" she answered perfunctly.

"I asked who Ashley is, Aurelias. If you dont want to talk about it, then say so, but dont just ignore me"

Of course, in women speak, Estelle really meant - Answer the dang question.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar glared up at Estelle, smoke billowing from his cigar-clenched teeth. The two held looks forra moment and Kazaar chose t'back down.

"Only one other person could make me do that."

He told 'er 'bout his partnership with, "Ash," how'd it'd been, "the best damn thing t'happen t'me after my parents were murdered by that bastard Tarkin." He told 'The Kid' how Gorgja'd partnered the two of 'em in Kazaar's late teens and that the two of 'em had been his top hunters.

"We pretty much did everything together, Kid. Kinda like the two of us do now."

The Alderaanian exhaled smoke, "She had a helluva voice too. Smokey. Could cut through ya like a vibroblade. Like her eyes. That blaster of yours...the 22T3...was originally hers. And she was a helluva shot"

His black eyes seem t'glisten a bit.

"I loved 'er. Still do. And I miss 'er."

A pause, "Ash got cut up pretty bad 'bout 10-15 years'r so. Some fracker decided she deserved t'have her skin removed 'round her stomach. I'm guessing she fought hard...she was really cut and shot up bad."

When Kazaar raised his eyes, there was sadness mixed with bitterness in 'em.

"Happy now, Kid?"

[Estelle Russard]

Happy wasn't how she would describe it, but it was good to hear Kazaar open up - even if it was something that brought him some painful memories.

"Im sorry for Ashley" she said, meaning it. "I guess Id never really thought of you as partnering up before -- with someone you cared about, that is. You are always such a maverick, I'd just assumed...." her words trailed off.

She'd always assumed he'd always been on his own and liked it that way. Partnership, business or otherwise, she'd assumed had only come out of neccessity - and in later years, by direct orders from Director Belargic. In truth, she still had a whole lot to learn about Kazaar. Atleast now, she could say she knew just a little bit more.

"So -- what's the plan?" Estelle asked, turning things back to the business at hand. "How are we going to do this?"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar was silent for a moment while he thought a moment.

"We gotta figure out where they're gonna have that meetin'. Could be a number o'places."

'The Kid's' own mind started turning quickly, "I doubt they'd meet on the Stardust Corridor?"

"Nah, it ain't 'neutral ground'. Crei's big on that," Kazaar gave a chuckle, "There was one time that damn albino wanted t'meet Gorgja inna swamp. A frackin' swamp. Said he thought, 'It'd suit Gorgja's genetics're something like that'. Gorgja wasn't too keen on that.

"Best way t'find out where they are's through The Ice Slug's ship. And I gotta idea on who t'talk to."

***********************************

15 minutes later

"Aww...c'mon Spenny, don't give me that attitude," Kazaar spoke over th'long distance transmission to th'current co-manager of Cloud 9 Bar and Grill on Bespin.

"Ain't my fault that droid got destroyed 'cause you turned th'bar non-smoking." a shake of the Rebel spy's head, "Did Mu change it back...Whatta ya mean it's gotta 'Non-Smoking Section'? What kinda poodoo is that?

"Awright. Awright. Geez louise Spenny, don't get'cha hair all straightened out. I just gotta question for ya. Something for your 'unique talents'.

"I gotta know where Th'Ice Slug is. It ain't Nal Hutta I know that," Kazaar gave a 'look' to Estelle and gotta chuckle in response.

"C'mon Spenny. Ya gotta know somethin'. Slug that big's gotta make waves whenever she moves."

[Mirko Spendrim]

"I dont know why I should tell you anything, Kazaar" Mirko said, beginning to pout. "You never appreciate it"

Kazaar dropped his head from the vid screen with a groan. Not this again.

"I dont have time f'this, Mirko" he said with strained patience and lifting his head again . "This is important"

"Its always important" Spenny whined, sounding to Kazaar alot like an ex-girlfriend he once had. "I take great risks for you, you know"

"I know, I know" Kazaar looked to Estelle for help, but got only an amused shrug from her -- which was of no help whatever.

"But, I did save you from the Imps"

"Hm-hm" Mirko sullenly agreed.

"And you knitted me that sweater" Kazaar continued, and Mirko smiled at the memory.

"It was for your birthday" Mirko reminisced fondly.

"Right" Kazaar replied, "Now TELL ME WHERE THE DAMN SHIP IS!"

Lucky for Mirko, a man could not as yet throttle a holographic image.

"Alright, alright. Dont yell Kazaar, its not good for your blood pressure"
Mirko checked a clipboard outside the frame of the vidscreen and then looked up with a smile. "The Ice Slug left for Nar Shaddaa this morning. She's enroute as we speak"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Frack, it figures she'd go there," Kazaar shook his head at th'info, "Any idea where she's meeting Crei?"

Spenny's face had a peevish look, "N-No Kazaar. My information didn't say that." The information broker didn't say his next thought, Please don't kill me.

The former bounty hunter only nodded, "Nice work Spenny. Creds are headed your way."

"W-wait, Kazaar! Do you want another swea-"

Kazaar cut the connection b'fore Spenny could finish his sentence. Spenny might be a helluva knitter, but no frackin' way was Kazaar gonna wear one of his sweaters. 'Specially if it was a cartigan. Damned info broker loved that stuff.

"Let's go, Kid," he turned from th'vid screen and headed towards the door, "We'll take The Dutchman. I wanna get this damn thing over with."

****************************************

Hangar Bay SPR-349: Location of The Flying Dutchman

"That's not good," The Kid pointed towards sky as smoke poured from a building outta their sight range. Something in th'back of Kazaar's skull sent off a warning, as he made a quick turn, 'causing the Calamari on th'side of the street t'raise his hand in admonishment.

"It sure as hell ain't, Kid."

The speeder came t'a halt just outside of th'burning building and Kazaar swore violently. It was th'hangar he housed his HWK-290 freighter The Flying Dutchman. Kazaar stormed outta th'speeder, blaster in hand. If someone hurt m'baby, I'm gonna skin 'em.

Kazaar held his right hand up, causing Estelle t'slow down as they came t'the entrance. The door'd been blown off by some kinda explosive and parts of th'interior was still burnin'. As they slipped inside the hangar, Estelle grabbed a fire extinguisher and put out most of th'flames, while Kazaar searched th'rest of the hangar.

It was by the controls to th'hangar bay doors, Kazaar found th'limp form of a Quarren, one of his tentacles cut off and a bruise forming around one of his blue eyes.

"'Ey Osqui, ya all right?" Kazaar knelt by th'Quarren and laid him on his back.

Osqui coughed then 'waggled' all of his remaining tentacles, before opening his eyes "K-Kazaar?"

"Yeh. What th'hell happened?"

The hangar bay owner pressed his three-fingered hand against his head. His voice sounded like it was comin' from a fishbowl, "Five Trandoshans came in. Said they were here for The Dutchman. I asked for identification but one of them slashed at my stomach and stomped on my head.

"I don't remember much after that."

Kazaar angled his black eyes towards the hangar's interior and swore.

The Flying Dutchman was gone.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Y'gotta be frackin' kidding me!" Kazaar punched th'nearest window. The reinforced glass spider-webbed and Kazaar swore as pain shot into his hand and up his arm.

"You're paying for that," Osqui admonished him from his seat before taking a sip of tea.

"Yeh. Yeh. Send the bill t'Gorgja, Squidface." Kazaar puffed on his cigar, letting the smoke swirl 'round his face. To both Estelle and th'hangar bay operator, the smoke made Kazaar look even more like some kinda ancient warrior, rather than the bodyguard he was.

"I thought ya said you could fight off any kinda attack that might come your way. It's why I park The Dutchman here."

The Quarren's eyes flashed and shook his robes, in an attempt t'bring some kinda dignity back to his bruised frame, "It's tough to ward off Trandoshans who carry rail detonators Kazaar. You of all people should know that."

The Rebel spy waved his hand dismissively and 'The Kid' stepped in, "You said you were approached by some Trandoshans. What else happened"

Osqui took another sip of tea, before he spoke in his fishbowl voice, "They said they were from Gorgja, here for your ship. I told them they couldn't without proper identification, specifically from you, Kazaar. But they said it wasn't a problem."

The Quarren's tentacles wiggled as he continued, "It was then I shut the heavy doors and went for my blaster. A moment later, everything was on fire and I was nursing a head and stomach ache.

"You look like you had an interesting night yourself, Kazaar. How did you run afoul of the Eclipse? I thought you avoided slavers?"

Kazaar's smirk was tired and his black eyes hooded. "Don't ask Osq. They say where they were goin'?"

"No. And I wasn't in any position to ask," Osqui took one more sip of tea, before setting it down on the panel near him. "Now if you don't mind, you'll have to leave. I need to talk to the insurance company about the damage. When you get your ship back, we'll talk about your rent too."

The Brentaal-raised Alderaanian glowered at the Quarren, "Thanks, Osq, you're a real frackin' pal.

"Let's go, kid. I don't wanna tread on squidhead's tentacles. What're left of 'em."

The duo strode towards their speeder, Estelle trying t'keep up with the angry Kazaar's long strides.

"Frackin' lizadheads're trying t'box me in, kid," Kazaar slammed th'speeder door with a loud thud. "Make me play their own game."

He set his jaw and it almost looked like he was gonna bite off the end of his lit cigar. When he spoke, Kazaar's voice was dangerous.

"I'm gonna kill 'em, kid. Every single of of 'em. And if it means Gorgja dies too..." his voice trailed off.

Then he gave a weary half-smirk, "Guess we'll cross that bridge when we get t'it."

[Estelle Russard]

She walked along beside her partner, her steps brisk in order to keep up with him.

He was steamed. Mad as she'd ever seen him, though he was trying hard to keep it in check. Estelle had seen some bad sides of Kazaar and he knew it. Knew she'd been through some bad things herself and an out-of-control partner was not something he wanted her to have to deal with.

Besides, he'd store his wrath up for the Trannies. And the Hutts, both of 'em.

"Seems to me Gorgja is just wanting a bit of insurance that you'll do the job. Leverage, type of thing."

"Geez kid, ya think?"

"I dont need the sarcasm, Aurelias. Im just trying to help"

He chomped harder on the cigar.

"Your dad's got ships right?" he asked and Estelle didn't really like where this trail of thought was leading. "Probly wont miss it if one goes missing.."

"Kazaar, I dont want my father mixed up with the Hutts"

"Hey, ship theft in Imperial City happens every 3 seconds kid" he picked up his pace as his thoughts took solid direction, "Thats life on the Chosen Planet" he added with a sneer. "I'll be back in two hours. Be at my place and ready to go - if you're comin" he added as impartially as he could manage.

"Just dont get caught - Daddy will fire you on the spot, and then where will that leave us"

The Black Man will have a fit if he finds out this little escapade, Estelle thought as the pair parted company. And Director Belargic...Estelle didn't even finish that thought - sufficient to the day is the evil thereof. Her grandfather always quoted that.

And heck, it was still only 9.30 in the morning.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Russard Industries-- Hangar Bay

It was pretty easy for Kazaar t'make it into the hangar bay. Security wasn't that tight...'sides, Kazaar was a 'known entity' to th'maintenance officials and flight operators.

The lax security was one reason why the bodyguard housed his ship with Osqui...never knew when th'Imps were gonna sneak one of their agents into Russard Industries and frack with things. Hell, the fact there was a traitor somewhere in the Alliance said volumes. Th'Empire was fracking everywhere.

Kazaar ran his hand along one of Russard Industries Starlight-class freighters. The winged-shaped ship wasn't his favorite, but it was used all over the galaxy. Perfect thing t'take to 'The Smuggler's Moon' in search of an Ice Slug. The bounty hunter took a couple steps away and started plotting...

Stealing a ship of this size wasn't gonna be easy. 'Course if he could break into th'flight lounge and 'borrow' a flight suit, that'd make it easier. Then once the maintenance crew stopped frackin' with the engines...Kazaar's eyes shot up in surprise.

It wasn't just any kinda maintenance crew...it had a Trandoshan in it. The rest of th'crew was a mix of aliens, but they were all staring straight at the hunter. The lizardhead gave a predatory smile and *winked*.

No frackin' way, Kazaar cursed inwardly and tried not t'show it on his face. He glanced above his head at the freighter next to the one he was hoping t'steal. Yup...there it was...an explosive, disguised as a transponder code. Kazaar'd used 'em before. The explosives weren't strong enough t'actually damage th'ship, but if ya put four or five of 'em together, they could cause some serious damage.

And so th'herding continues, Kazaar glared at the explosive and then at the 'mechanics'.

A gruff voice caused him t'throw a sharp glance to his right.

"Hey Kazaar."

Milo Middlekauff'd been Russard Industries chief mechanic since Jason the Elder built the tall building near the heart of the Imperial Center. A human with steely eyes and a grouchy demeanor, he'd actually been nice t'Kazaar since he discovered he was takin' care of "Mister Russard's little robin" (his pet name f'The Kid).

"Milo," the bodyguard replied with a nod, "Who're th'new flight mechanics?"

"You mean Vakis?" the mechanic replied, pulling outta wad of chewing tobacco from his pocket. He pressed it between his stained teeth before replying, "He's new...got him on loan from Aklay Industries. Part of the new partnership between our companies."

Kazaar's head shook in digust. Aklay Industries was one of Gorgja's 'legitimate' businesses. They produced some pretty good navigation systems and 'parently Russard had made a deal with 'em...why Kazaar didn't know.

Still...beat giving Crei money.

"They do anything good?" he asked, pulling out another cigar.

Middlekauff shrugged. "They haven't frelled anything up yet. Still, I don't like 'em poking my ships too much. It's my job you know?"

"Sure as hell I do...Sure as hell..." Kazaar lit his cigar, took a long puff, and exhaled violently.

"You come here for anything in particular?"

The bodyguard took another puff, "Kid wanted t'take Apparition out forra spin. Those frackheads haven't been messin' with it have they?"

The mechanic spat into a small cup and shook his head, "Not that I've seen. Apparition's grounded though. She's gotta busted fuel line. Damn thing's nearly severed in half."

Kazaar rolled his black eyes and tapped his ash into Middlekauff's cup. Frackin' Gorgja. "Kid's gonna be disappointed. She loves her little 'ghost ship'."

Middlekauff smiled, "Tell 'Little Robin' it'll be up and running in a few days. Where's your ship?"

Another violent exhale of smoke, "In f'repairs. Might need a new place t'house it though. Current garage's getting kinda pricey. Need some place...outta the way."

"I'll make some calls, Kazaar. See if I can come up with something."

The hunter pushed himself offa the freighter's bulkhead, "Thanks Milo...I'll let Estelle know 'bout 'er ship."

*******************************************

"So I'm rather surprised you came back in one piece," Estelle gave a small grin as she sat in his apartment. She'd been able to turn in her assignment a few minutes late, taking only a five point penalty, although her professor had admonished her (rather sternly) for lateness.

"Yeh, so stealin' a ship's a no-go." Kazaar poured himself a drink, ignoring 'The Kid's' glare and poured it down his throat. "Just take a guess what bugslut got people in there?"

Kazaar gave another disgusted shake of his head, "I'm takin' public transit t'Nar Shaddaa. Want me t'bring ya anything?"

[Estelle Russard]

"In Daddy's company?" Clearly, this revelation of a 'spy' inside Russard Industries took Estelle by surprise and pre-empted the gift from Nar Shaddaa question. "You aren't suggesting--"

"Gorgja?" Aurelias cut in, "An' it aint no suggestion, kid. The old man's got gophers" He said as he frisked his sides for loose credits. "How much is transit fare, d'you know?".

Estelle's expression soured. Her father had enough to deal with already, without the added complication of Hutt informants.

"Did you happen to..er..remove any?" she asked, hopeful despite the guilt of knowing how Kazaar might go about such a thing.

He smirked, thinking all too well what she was thinking, "Sorry to disappoint, but I was as well behaved as a churchmouse. So, whiskey maybe?"

"What?"

"Whiskey -- been told Nar Shaddaa has some o'the oldest, and therefore th' best, distilleries in the sector. I could bring ya back some"

"No point" Estelle replied, leaving the issue of her father's business for the time being, "as I'll be there with you. I could pick up my own."

Like that would ever happen.

"Whats our cover?" she asked, "And dont say honeymooner's again. No one ever believes that one."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Ain't my fault ya won't wear a ring t'cover that ID." Kazaar's black eyes had th'same smirk-like expression as his mouth did. 'Specially since he didn't wear a ring t'cover the ID either.

"Smuggler's Moon ain't a place f'newlyweds anyway." The Rebel spy rummaged through a hidden compartment stashed along th'wall. He fished out two professional-lookin' IDs, and rose from his crouch.

"Here," he tossed 'The Kid her ID, "Enjoy bein' an ad designer. Figure we're on our way t'Nar Shaddaa for a business meetin' of some kind."

Kazaar re-lit his cigar and strode back to th'couch, "Can't bring weapons though, public transit kinda frowns on it. I know some guys we can buy from on site. Need credits f'that though."

"Plus," Estelle's own mind was startin' t'get the plan. One reason why Kazaar liked working w'her, "We'll have to figure out where Predka and Crei are meeting."

Another smirk, "Yeh, that too. Ya get th'feeling the Trannies would just b'happy if I was dead, instead of doin' this job? Something 'bout this still bugs the hell outta me."

The Rebel spy gave a shrug, then nodded towards th'refresher, "Dye's in there. Want me t'go first or you?"

***************************************
Coruscant- Emperor Palpatine Memorial Spaceport

Imperial Officer Jaan Petrov gave a bored glance at the two IDs shoved into his face. He hated his job, certainly not what he thought he'd be doing when he signed up for Imperial service four years ago. A boring assignment here and there, sure but not this. Not processing people who wanted to jaunt off to whatever part of the galaxy they were interested in.

I'd love to be out doing something else.

Another ID was pressed into his hands and Petrov monotoned, "Where are you headed?"

"Nar Shaddaa."

It was the voice which caused him to glance up at the striking female standing who'd just handed him her ID. She was amazing. Her hair was cut short and streaked black and white, giving her an artistic-look. She wore a red sweater over a black dress and her feet were clad in knee-high boots. Her smile was as lovely as her blue eyes.

Petrov scanned her ID, noting her name was 'Luxa Churchill' and she was an ad designer with the Corellian Merchants' Guild. Maybe she was based on Coruscant...the Imperial hoped.

Anything to end this drudgery.

The traveller behind the beautiful woman, Petrov noted with annoyance, was also with the Merchants' Guild. He was tall, had short brown hair, answered to the name 'Wes Thatcher', and was a banker. He sure looked the part too, with his horn-rimmed glasses, decent suit, and a briefcase in hand.

Petrov wondered if the two worked together or if they were just on planet at the same time. He let his mind wander as to what he'd do if he could get Miss Churchill alone, when a voice cut through his dreams.

"Is there a problem?"

The Imperial stared up into the black eyes of the banker and shook his head, "Sorry my mind wandered."

Thatcher gave a *snort*, took his ID, and wandered into the waiting transport.

***************************************

When he was outta th'Imp's earshot, Kazaar gave another *snort*, "I think ya gotta fan, Kid. Thought he was gonna drool all over ya ID.

"That'd be a story. Almost missing a flight 'cause some damn Imp was gawking at ya legs."

The two Rebels entered th'docking bay for the Personal Luxury Yacht 3000 (in first class, Kazaar noted) which'd take 'em to Nar Shaddaa.

They were given a cabin together, which allowed 'em t'stare out at both the starport and, later, the stars.

Kazaar flopped down on his bed and placed a light cigar in his mouth, "Helluva travel arrangement ya got us, Kid. Bed's too soft though."

He gave a smirk, "Guess havin' ya Dad as ya dad ain't too bad, huh? Ya tell 'im yet 'bout school?"

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle had adopted her disguise persona, holding herself a little aloof from the other beings around her but without actually ignoring them. She smiled readily enough, but did little to connect further with anyone. Petrov had gotten as close as he would ever get. And Kazaar knew it, though he never surrendered an opportunity to intimidate someone, just for the fun of it.

She ignored her partner's comments, not breaking character (with the exception of an amused smile) until they were seated in the luxury of their cabin.

"Daddy doesn't know I want to leave school, but I think he feels its coming" she said, hanging her sweater over the back of a plush velvet chair.

Kazaar flipped off his shoes and, stretching, allowed his feet to hang over the end of the bed. He folded his arms behind his head and puffed a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling. "Ya scared t'tell him?"

"No. Its not that. I just think he may have another offer in mind for me, and Im not sure whether I can accept"

Aurelias lifted his pillowed head and squinted her way - his way of asking for an explanation.

"The Company. He wants me to work with him at Russard Industries. I think Director Belargic...or even Othniel might think it a great opportunity but.."

"But ya think your ol' man is already in t'middle of things as it is, right?"

Exactly, Estelle thought. She couldnt bear the idea of her life compromising his, and everything he was so proud of. Not to mention, it would be very risky indeed to be so closely associated with the Empire. And then there was the ever-increasing working relationship between Jason the Younger and Grand Inquisitor Karl Valten.

"It'd be dicey, to say the least" she replied at last.

Kazaar puffed some more, thinking but reserving comment. He then dropped his head back down to his reposing posture. "Well, you dont hafta' decide today, kid. Take a bath or somethin'. We gotta while 'fore we move again"

That actually was a good idea. A bath sounded just the ticket.

"Order something up to eat" she said, crossing to the bathroom, "burgers. And dessert. Who' knows when we'll get another chance"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Ya don't hafta tell me twice," Kazaar's guttural voice was filled with amusement as he exited th'cabin.

The ship's restaurant offered a variety of foods from Human t'Gammorean (although who th'frack would be up f'eatin' that poodoo?) and had it's own Devaronian chef named Vakso Taragen. Kazaar entered the medium-sized room and noted with some happiness there were a couple people sitting 'round smoking various objects. It was bad 'nough he had t'smoke a light cigar, if someone'd chatised him for it...Kazaar was prolly gonna space 'em.

"What can I do for yoo?" the Durosian bartender asked with very good Basic as the bodyguard approached him.

"Gimme a couple nerfburgers. One of 'em with Byss cheese, celto, 'n sweetroots. The other with roba strips 'n neonan red cheese. Gimme some zoochberries and beebleberries. Some fried mushroom spores too."

The bartender gave Kazaar an odd look as he wrote down th'order.

"Hey," Kazaar chirped, "I don't make fun of what ya eat, so keep ya mouth shut. Also gimme four Alderaanian Be--"

"We have a two drink limit sir."

The human's black eyes narrowed, "Four Alderaanian beers and two Pink Nebulas. Relax pal, I ain't gonna go out 'n do something stupid."

'Least not here.

"Oh yeh," Kazaar added, "Gimme a glass."

If the Duros had eyebrows, the Rebel spy was pretty sure he woulda raised 'em, "A glass, sir?"

"Yeh. For m'beer. Ya never drank beer outta glass before?"

The Duros barkeep opened his mouth, then quickly shut it. "I'll see what I can do."

Kazaar gave a smirk, took another puff of his cigar, and turned his back to the bar. The restaurant was pretty busy, lotta traffic 'round the sabacc table, and a few aliens sitting 'round drinking. The best part 'bout the joint...no Trannies. It'd take a helluva lot of explaining if Kazaar was caught spacing someone. Not everyone would believe his story 'bout Lizardhead slavers and a mission t'kill 'The Ice Slug'. Just too much like a holovid or a book.

'Bout 15 minutes later, the former bounty hunter was striding back to his room, one large box of food in one hand and another (this one stocked full of alcohol) in the other. When he got into the room, Kazaar set the food down on the table near the holoscreen and pulled one of the Pink Nebulas from the carboard holder.

"Aurelias what the FRELL!" 'The Kid' screamed as Kazaar stepped into the refresher. She pressed her body against th'edge of the tub, doin' her best t'keep herself 'presentable'.

"Oh relax, Kid." Kazaar's smirk was so large it looked like his right eye was shut, "Not like I haven't seen ya naked before."

He set the drink down next to th'tub and headed back out th'door, "Wonder what ya dad might think 'bout that ink on ya waist. Think he'll figure out you're not 'Daddy's little girl' that way?"

He chuckled all th'way to the table where he popped a mushroom in his mouth and took a swig of his beer. Even in all this crap, it felt pretty damn good.