Tales From The Empire

by Peter Schweighofer

  art was intimately wrapped up with the concepts of nudity, excess and a

  color scheme that relied heavily on pinks, purples and an irritatingly

  vibrant shade of green. Some of the statuary--what little of it

  actually could have found a home in the Museum of Fine Arts--had been

  garishly corrected by application of this color scheme, with excess

  paint having spilled down the walls.

  The paintings showed Corran a view of models he

  thought more appropriate for xenobiological textbooks and the holographs seemed the

  visual equivalent of a high-pitched scream.

  "How much were you going to offer me to kill him?"

  Kast whispered.

  "Not enough."

  They followed their guides through the foyer and a huge set of double

  doors into Thyne's office. Here the clash of artworks had a new

  element added to it: a war between style of furnishings. Thyne's desk

  had been carved from deep brown vweliu tree wood and was in itself a

  work of art. Surrounding it were other pressed-form duraplast and

  fiberplast chairs and tables--the sort of things that could be left out

  in a glen because weather would not hurt them. A few stainless steel

  tables topped with transparisteel sheets completed the decor and a riot

  of lamps---no two matching--provided illumination for it all.

  Corran looked over at Hal and caught a brave nod from him despite the

  twin lines of blood dripping down from his nose. Haber Trell looked in

  worse shape, with a rapidly swelling eye and an inert vibroblade stuck

  into the seat of his chair between his thighs. The Tunroth's yellow

  flesh had greyed up a bit, and a dollop of bluish blood trickled from

  one nostril, but Rathe otherwise looked alert.

  Zekka Thyne smiled at Kast and Corran found the expression nothing

  short of obscene. "Ah, Jodo Kast, finally we meet. Normally I do not

  retain an individual I have not met, but your reputation precedes

  you.

  I decided the credits were well spent." Thyne's scarlet gaze

  sharpened.

  "Don't disappoint me."

  "I have no intention of doing so." With a swift, smooth motion, Kast

  drew a blaster in his right hand and jammed the muzzle against Corran's

  left temple. "Haber Trell and the Tunroth are assassins who were hired

  by Borbor Crisk to eliminate you. Their partners are even now

  arranging

  for Crisk to fill a couple hundred sleight boxes with the price for your head."

  "That's not true!" Haber Trell snarled angrily. "He's lying."

  Thyne silenced him with a backhanded slap. "So who are these other

  two?"

  Kast grunted what almost seemed to be a laugh. "They hired these two

  locals to help them get around and as camouflage. With these two in

  tow, who would think they are galaxy-class assassins?"

  Corran started to raise a hand to massage his head, but Kast kept the

  gun pressed hard against his skull. Corran wasn't certain which hurt

  more: his head or his pride at having been fooled by Kast. He played

  me very well, just like he played the rest of us. Better I was in my

  father's place because Kast never would have fooled him.

  Corran glanced sidelong at Kast, then nodded toward Thyne. "You know,

  you really can't trust the word of a bounty hunter."

  "True, but I am more willing to trust him than some assassin's local

  fetch-and-carry."

  Kast reached over and relieved Corran of his blaster, then lowered his

  own gun. "My story is fairly easy to check out. You should dispatch

  some of your people to the Mynock's Haven. It is the cantina where

  Trell's partners are meeting within the hour with Crisk to finalize the

  payoff details. You'll find the sleight boxes at the Dewback storage

  yard near the spaceport. You can send other of your people there and

  wait for Crisk and his men to come and fill the boxes."

  Corran rubbed at his temple. "You figured that out from my look at the

  place? You're good."

  "That's why people retain me." Kast looked over at Thyne. "I take it

  you have detention cells here?"

  "Wine cellar is empty. You can put them in alcoves down there."

  "Good. I shall do that while you prepare the ambush

  for Crisk."

  Kast motioned with his blaster for Corran to head toward the door.

  "Once your people report back, you'll know who you can trust."

  "Yes." Thyne hissed the word. "And those who are lying will pay the

  ultimate price for daring to deceive me."

  Side Trip Part Three

  by Michael A' Stackpole propelled by a poke in the kidneys with a

  blaster carbine, Corran Horn stumbled into the makeshift cell.

  He got control of himself fast enough to avoid bumping into his father

  and turned back quickly, but Jodo Kast swung the wrought-iron gate

  shut. That effectively sealed the two Horns in a small, dusty grotto

  that had once been home to a fine collection of wines from throughout

  the Empire. At least that's the impression I get from all the broken

  bottle bits on the floor.

  Corran skewered Kast with the nastiest stare he could muster.

  "This isn't over between us Kast."

  The bounty hunter regarded Corran placidly, but the trio of Zekka

  Thyne's henchmen forcing the other man and the Tunroth into a second

  grotto across the cellar laughed out loud. Their leader, the beefy;

  red-haired man who had given Corran the shove, sneered at the

  undercover Corellian Security Force officer. "You're strictly small

  time, pal. The boss isn't going to give you a crack at this guy. I'll

  be the one to take care of you."

  "Oh?" Corran gave the man a fetal grin. "I didn't realize Thyne was

  into doing favors for the hired help. You're welcome to try me any

  time."

  "He won't get the chance." Kast's voice came low and cold. "I've put

  up with your prattling and bragging and threats, Corran, and I am not

  of a mind to let someone else eliminate annoyances from my life."

  The armored mercenary pointed a finger at the redheaded man.

  "Touch him and I will consider it a matter of honor to turn you inside

  out."

  The redhead paled. "Yes, sir."

  Another of Thyne's Black Sun underlings closed the other gate and

  secured it. "They're in. Wanna threaten any of them, Nidder?"

  The redhead frowned. "Suck vacuum, Somms. You think you're so funny,

  you can think up jokes while you stand guard on these clowns."

  Somms' blond brows arrowed down toward his nose.

  "They're in here secure, they don't need guarding."

  Kast shook his head. "No, not in here, of course not, but outside the

  room, on the first stair landing. There you can hear commotion from in

  here or the main floor and be able to respond."

  Nidder shoved his blaster carbine into Somms' hands.

  "You heard him."

  Corran smiled. "Just what I expected, Kast. You want someone

  stationed between you and me."

  Kast grabbed the grate's iron bars and shook it once,

  hard. The metal rattled loudly and, startled, Corran involuntarily took a step back.

  Nidder, Somms and the third Black Sunner started laughing, but their

  mirth didn't stop corran from hearing Kast's r
eply to his remark.

  "I've no fear of you, Corran. I look forward to you getting out of

  here because with Thyne sending. his blaster-boys off to ambush

  Maranne and Riij, I'm pretty much assured that I'm all that stands

  between you and your freedom. You may be good--you may even be better

  than I give you credit for being---but I'm still better."

  Corran's left temple throbbed from where Kast had jammed his blaster

  pistol against it. "Keep thinking that, Kast, and don't be surprised

  when I prove you wrong."

  "Come see me, Corran, when your boasts are not idle."

  Kast turned and herded the rest of the men from the small room.

  An old wooden door closed behind him and clicked shut.

  Corran stared after him for a moment then spun on his heel and swore.

  "Sithspawn! That son of a rancor played me for an idiot." He looked

  up at his father. "I'm sorry, Dad. I really made a mess of things."

  The elder Horn's hazel eyes narrowed. "How do you plot our predicament

  being your fault?"

  "I should have known there was something wrong."

  Corran scrubbed his hands over his face. "Their ship, the Hopskip, is

  a piece of trash that Crisk wouldn't use to haul dead bodies, much less

  valuable merchandise. The others had no idea what was in their cargo

  hold and it turned out to be full of sleight boxes."

  Hal frowned. "Sleight boxes are hardly state of the art for smugglers

  these days. It's almost as if they wanted to be caught."

  "Right, exactly." Corran leaned against a fiberplast wine rack built

  into the grotto's wall. "Kast told Thyne the boxes are empty, but I

  found some with junked holo-seals and popped them. One box had

  spice--strictly joy-dust grade, but spice nonetheless--and the other

  had a fortune in uncut Durindfire gems. Even if we figure that

  one box of gems is it and the other 199 are spice, Crisk can use the gems

  to buy an army and use the spice to flood the market and kill Black

  Sun's profits."

  Hal Horn turned a wooden wine-box over and sat. "So what you're

  telling me is that we have non-smugglers bringing in two hundred

  sleight boxes and they have no idea what's in them. You find gems and

  spice in two and the shipment is headed for Crisk. Crisk himself can't

  put together that sort of shipment, so he has a backer. Who?"

  Corran frowned. "The gems come from Tatooine. Isn't there a Hutt out

  there working the spice trade?"

  "Jappa or Jadda or something like that, yes. He's powerful there, but

  expanding into CoreIlia? That's too bold a move." Hal's mouth opened,

  then he shook his head.

  He motioned his son aside and looked past Corran toward the other

  cell.

  "Haber Trell, how long have you known Jodo Kast?"

  The Hopskip's pilot stood and grasped the bars of his prison. "I don't

  know him. He's along for the ride."

  "Yes." Hal leaned back against the wall and laughed lightly.

  "That's it."

  Corran shook his head. "You're saying Kast is behind the shipment

  going to Crisk? But that makes no sense since he's told Thyne's people

  where to find the boxes with the spice and gems."

  "No, Corran, Kast isn't the mastermind, he's what's being smuggled into

  CoreIlia."

  Corran's jaw shot open. "It doesn't make any sense."

  "No?" Hal gave Corran an appraising glance--of the sort that in the

  past had warned Corran that his father thought he was being lazy in his

  thinking. "What do you make of Kast's last remark?"

  Corran thought back. "He was taunting me."

  "Agreed, but what did he tell us by taunting you?"

  The sigh came up all the way from Corran's toes. "He told us that he

  was all that stood between us and freedom--that Thyne's guys are all

  gone. He told me to come

  find him when we got free." Corran slapped his forehead with the heel of his hand. "I should have seen that."

  "You did."

  "Yeah, but it took you to point it out to me." Corran shook his head

  and toed the neck of a broken bottle.

  "There are times when my brain just doesn't work."

  "No, Corran, your brain works fine." Hal kept his tone even, but

  pointed a finger at his son. "You just need to focus your thinking.

  You're angry because of how Kast tricked you, and I think you were a

  bit afraid for how I was doing."

  "Right on both counts."

  "It's understandable, son, and appreciated in the case of your concern

  for me, but you can't let your emotions and incidental things deflect

  you."

  "I know that, Dad. I really do." He smiled at his father.

  "I try to follow your example, but you're better at it than I am."

  "I have a few years on you, Corran."

  "It's more than just the years, Dad." Corran winced. "I never would

  have read Kast's message right the way you did."

  The elder Horn's eyes twinkled. "I have to admit to you, Corran, I

  cheated this time out."

  "What?"

  Hal pointed past him. "Up there, on the bars Kast shook, see what that

  little thing is, will you?"

  Corran turned and looked closely at the bars. Where Kast had grasped

  one in his right hand, Corran saw a small black cylinder about a

  hand-span in length and about the diameter of a blaster-bolt. He freed

  it from the bar with a tug, leaving an adhesive residue on the

  wrought-iron, and felt a small button beneath his thumb, near the

  cylinder's tip.

  "Be careful with that, Corran."

  The younger man nodded and hit the button. All but invisible in the

  half-light, a delicate monomolecular blade slid from the cylinder.

  "I know what it is, and I remember

  what happened to Lefty Dindo."

  Corran cut carefully down with the blade and through the lock's bolt.

  He retracted the stiletto's fragile blade and swung the door open.

  "Freeing us from this cell is a bit easier than Lefty trying to use one

  of these to free himself from binders."

  Hal Horn paused in the door cell's doorway. "You might want to cut us

  a couple of the bars to use as weapons.

  Somms might not be the brightest of Black Sunners, but I think he's

  going to take some convincing before he lets us out of here."

  "Agreed." Extending the blade again, Corran cut a pair of

  50-centimeter-long bars from the bottom of the grate and handed one to

  his father.

  Hal swung the club against his left hand with a meaty thwack.

  "This will work. Now how do we lure Somms in?"

  Corran squinted at the room's closed door. "You figure Somms as

  someone who will raise an alarm immediately, or will wait to report

  success?"

  "After Nidder's giving him the duty? He'll act, then report."

  "That's my read, too. The landing was ten steps up and we're far

  enough away from the office that if we make some noise, no one will

  notice, I think." Corran smiled.

  "I'll do the hard work if you want to do the yelling."

  "Yelling works for me." Hal Horn smiled. "Be careful."

  "Right." Corran walked over to the wooden door and set the length of

  the blade to a half-centimeter shy of the door's depth, then cut very

  cautiously. He sco
red a circle in the center of it. Once he had the

  circle taken care of, he cut lines heading out from it as if a child

  drawing a sunburst. Lastly he carved little semicircles around the

  hinges and the lock.

  He closed the blade and handed it to his father in exchange for one of

  the clubs. "Okay, here goes nothing."

  "Wait!"

  Corran looked over at Haber Trell. "What do you want?"

  "Don't leave us in here. If you're busting out, we want to go,

  too."

  "I don't think so, Trell." The flesh tightened around Corran's eyes.

  "Even if you're twice the fighter that you are a smuggler, you'll still

  be in the way."

  Hal nodded in agreement, but tossed them the molecular stiletto

  anyway.

  "Corran's right, you won't want to come with us. We'll head out and