"Crap," said the man standing in the rain, "he's late again." Marcus had been standing on the small pedestrians' river-overpass for nearly an hour, watching the rain fall from the night sky, and the people walking, running by. His overcoat, slacks and socks had long since become drenched with the foul smelling rain, and the odor of sewage slowly wafted around him on the slow breeze across the river. He cursed his misfortune of being tasked with this particular job on this particular day, on this particularly disgusting world. This planet and its people, he thought to himself, can go to hell, including my contact. I've never seen such a wet, dirty, miserable world. The constant rain of the planet had become slightly toxic approximately twenty years ago due to the industrial pollution spewed out by the almost innumerable manufacturing plants covering the planet's face. The plant life had either adapted or died, leaving a once green world covered with sprawling urban sites and mere patches of plant life. The cities had become galactic havens for criminals, and violent crime a constant.
On second thought, he reconsidered as he looked around, maybe it's already there.
Lost in the miseries of his existence at the moment, he failed to notice the tall man approaching him. The man was wearing a processed hide longcoat and a hat low on his brow. The man stood tall, around six feet, and broad shouldered. His approach was silent, masked by the sound of the rain hitting the duracrete walkway. He came to a halt beside Marcus and leaned against the railing, looking out over the river. "Beautiful night for a walk," he said to Marcus, "isn't it?"
Marcus jumped slightly, not realizing someone had stopped next to him, and slowly turned to face the newcomer. "I wish that you would be on time just once! Not only that, but I'd appreciate it if you would stop sneaking up on me like that! You could give a guy a coronary like that!"
"Gee, Marcus, I thought all of you bounty hunter-types were real alert and tough. If I'd known that you have a heart condition, I would've tried harder to give you a siezure."
"Funny, Mav, very funny. You keep doin' that and next time I'll blast you, no questions asked," said Marcus, slipping his right hand into his coat pocket for emphasis. "Now then, do you have what I've been waiting for?"
"Keep yer pants on, Marcus. I've got the info you need on those two guys you've been looking for. But first, I want the money."
Wiping the stinging rain out of his eyes with his free hand, and silently hoping it wouldn't do any permanent damage to his eyesight, Marcus slowly drew his hand back out of his coat pocket, holding a small drawstring bag. "Three thousand credits, just like we agreed," he said. "Go ahead, count it if you like, it's all there," he said as he handed the bag to Mav.
Carefully weighing the bag in his right hand, Mav drew his left hand out of his coat and tossed a small pass key to Marcus. "Both Darsten and his body-guard Wilson will be in docking bay thirty-two tomorrow morning just after eight. They'll be trying to make a deal with Makosh to ship some spice for him. Darsten is the taller of the two, and Wilson is, for all intents and purposes, a duracrete wall of a human. You can't miss them. This pass key will let you into the docking bay through the maintenance crew's access tunnel."
As Marcus examined the pass key, Mav asked him, "So why exactly does Jabba want their hides so badly?"
"Jabba doesn't like independent spice smugglers; they cut into his business and profits. He doesn't like the competition, and so he sent me to get rid of it."
"Well, I sure do feel sorry for these two slime balls, knowing what you're gonna do to them. But then again, if they had paid me in the first place, this wouldn't be happening. Oh well, shit happens. Say 'hi' to those bastards for me, OK?"
"Will do." Smiling for perhaps the first time today, Marcus pocketed the pass key. "Thanks, Mav, it's been a pleasure. I hope to use your services again sometime. Until then, stay clean and dry." With that, Marcus quickly walked across the bridge, disappearing in the direction of the city's hotel district. Mav stood on the bridge watching him for several minutes after his departure before heading that direction himself.
Mav walked quickly down the city's roughly paved streets, occasionally looking over his shoulder. Every few minutes or so, he would turn down an alley, double-back down the street, cross the street, or stop inside an open shop. After about forty minutes, he finally arrived at a rather cheap motel located not more than a stone's throw from the walls of the starport. Entering the motel, Mav removed his coat and hat and proceeded up the stairs just inside the door. A few moments later, he arrived at room number twelve and knocked once on the door.
The door opened slowly for him as he made his way into the room. Behind the door stood another man, taller, yet somewhat thinner, than Mav. As Mav passed through the doorway, the other man closed it behind him and asked, "So, did he buy it?"
"Yeah, Travis, he bought it. Tomorrow morning around eight, our friends Makosh, Dillen and Farh-gul will be getting acquainted with one of Jabba's bounty hunters while we make off with Makosh's shipment of spice."
"Great job, Wilson. Every once in a while you surprise me and do something right. Now get some sleep; Ghrikk said he would have the ship ready to go around six, and I want to be a long way away when Marcus figures out he's been had. Boy, do I love it when a plan comes together like this!"
The End, for now...
By Thomas Hill