Korriban Nights: Chapter I
Korriban Nights: Chapter I
“This had better be the right floor.”
Slaine tried to get comfortable in the tight ventilation shaft but he had little success. Ahead, S1VR-4RM the assassin droid fiddled with the vent cover.
“It is. Hold while I disable the alarm.” When it spoke, the large diaphragm in S1VR-4RM’s chest bellowed, giving its voice an unhealthy wheeze.
In these close confines Slaine noticed the droid smelled faintly of oil. He had assumed one of the advantages in partnering with an assassin droid would be the absence of olfactory unpleasantness in situations like this. He had once worked with a Gamorrean…
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the grate popping out of its casement. S1VR-4RM lowered himself head first into the hallway and Slaine followed suit. The halls of the hotel were carpeted and the wall sconces gave off a dim blue light.
They hurried along towards the target’s room.
S1VR-4RM had accepted the job. It had come through slightly unusual channels and was not commissioned by any of their regular clients — however, the droid’s background check turned up nothing to concern either of the partners. It paid well and they were poor.
Slaine toyed with the idea of using his cut to get off Ord Mantell for good.
“Hold.” They waited as S1VR-4RM extended a probe around the corner. “Clear.”
So far things had been rather straightforward, and Slaine deeply hoped they would stay that way. The instructions were simple: enter the room; terminate the occupants with as little fuss as possible; and retrieve a holodisc. Though it seemed a little cold-blooded, he had given up on caring about the difference between bounties and contracts a few months back.
The sentry waiting outside the door practiced tossing his blaster from one hand to the other. He liked to get it to flip in the middle of the trick, when he could.
He looked up in time to see a spindly chrome-covered droid step out into the hallway. In his surprise, he fumbled his toss and the blaster landed with a thud on the carpet. A second thud heralded the landing of the blaster’s owner beside it — a large dart protruding from the side of his neck.
“How long is he going to be out for?” asked Slaine, standing over the body.
“Eternally. It was a neurotoxin. The contract stipulates no survivors, and fatal darts are less expensive than soporifics. I shall consider using them for all future needs.”
Slaine reached down and grabbed the dead man’s right hand, slicing it cleanly off just above the elbow.
“How much ‘less expensive’?”
He pressed the severed hand, palm open, against the door plate, and it opened with a woosh. Slaine breathed in the hotel room smell and tossed a pair of stun grenades into the room. S1VR-4RM slipped past him and emptied his needler into the horrified face of a dazed Rodian — throwing blood across the walls.
Slaine saw two others in the large bedroom and drew his vibro-knife — the door beside him opened and a fat pale man looked at him with first confusion and then horror before slamming the door again.
The bounty hunter cursed himself for having been caught off-guard. He left S1VR-4RM to finish the others and tried the door. Locked. Bathroom. He stepped back and then smashed his armored shoulder against it.
The flimsy material splintered on the second attempt. Slaine froze momentarily as he caught sight of the fat man pointing something large and gun-like directly at him. Then he realized it was an ionic hairdryer.
The hairdryer clattered off the side of Slaine’s armor. He stepped into the small room and grabbed the man over his jaw and began to push him down and backwards. Fingers scrabbled against his helmet and he could see his own visor reflected in the terrified eyes of his victim. He plunged the knife through the ribs and into the heart and then tore it up and outwards through the sternum. Blood splashed his optics.
“I have found the holodisc. It is in the player.”
“Be right there.”
He looked in the red-streaked mirror and saw his own sweaty and weary face. This would be it. This was going to be the last job.
With a towel he wiped the blood from his helmet and pulled it back on.
“Let’s grab it and get out of here…”
Slaine stopped and stared. S1VR-4RM stood above the pile of bodies silently contemplating the holo.
The player was a low-grade affair and the sound was bad, but still, those noises weren’t something that you could mistake. For a moment Slaine too stared at the head bobbing rhythmically in space as off-camera moans crackled from the speakers. The words “Korriban Nights” appeared followed by “starring.”
“What is that?!”
S1VR-4RM extended a probe towards the writhing phantom-bodies.
“Copulation,” he wheezed.