Twice As Bright: The Tale of Jalil Zavv
Chapter 1: Blasted to Oblivion
Mos Eisley, 4 Years After the Battle of Yavin
It was the late evening, and Tatooine's twin suns were just beginning to set. It was a grand sight, but it was the last thing on Dyrk Tannen's mind as he ran through the streets of Mos Eisley. Occasionally, he would crash through a fruit vendor, or knock over a fellow pedestrian, but he didn't care. His life was on the line, and a couple of angry pedestrians and a few loud curses were far more appealing than the gruesome fate he ran from.
Stupid, stupid... he thought as he sprinted down the street, you just had to blow all your credits!
Dyrk wasn't sure what he was thinking. Maybe that's because he wasn't thinking. He knew he owed his boss big time on a spice deal, but Chalmun's wasn't as tightly packed that day, so he went ahead and had a couple drinks. Damn that Juri Juice and its addictive habits... He blew all his credits! The credits he had been given by all of those spice addicts, the money that was to go to the big man...
Dyrk frantically searched for a way out. He knew his boss had men who could track him down any alleyway in the city, and probably any corner of the planet, but there had to be a way!
Then, from across the street, a short human in a gray uniform stepped out into the street. "Hey," he said, "Are you okay?"
"Officer!" Dyrk cried out. He quickly glanced down at the officer's nametag, which was posted over the left side of his chest,"Officer Dermul, I need your help! These... these men...!"
"Hold on, calm down, son!" Officer Dermul said as he eased the panicking man. "What men are after you?"
"They work for a spice dealer, Jalil Zavv. I owe him big time, and I know it's not exactly legal, officer, but I'd be more than willing to-"
"Wait a minute..." the officer interrupted, "Aren't you Dyrk Tannen?"
"Well, yeah... How did you know that?"
Dermul smiled, then drew his blaster. "Oh man!" he said with a laugh, "I don't believe my luck!"
"Officer, please, you don't understand!" Dyrk cried out desperately.
"No, I do understand. I understand Zavv's gonna pay big time for your head! You know what the MEPD pays? Next to nothing. How am I gonna pay rent with that kind of paycheck?"
Dyrk stared in horror as the officer clicked his blaster to stun. Dyrk tried to speak, but nothing could come out.
"I gotta make a living somehow..." Dermul said grimly, "Sometimes that means greasing little punks like you."
The officer then fired, sending a bright blue bolt right into Dyrk's abdomen. He collapsed onto the ground instantly, and gave a few short spasms before falling unconscious.
The officer gazed down at his prey, the defenseless pawn that Zavv wanted alive, so that he could kill him himself. The town had heard about the horrendous things that Zavv did to people who crossed him, and these stories didn't phase Dermul in any way as he hefted Dyrk onto his back and carried him down the street, towards the residence of Jalil Zavv. He knew he was carrying the man to his death, but that was the way of life in Mos Eisley, the choice of killing someone you've never met just to earn a few credits was an easy choice, and Dermul knew it.
Mos Eisley, Jalil Zavv's Residence, The Next Morning
Zavv's residence was a two story luxury home in the back end of Mos Eisley. It was rich in an elegant design that invoked envy in the other residents. The interior had a collection of narrow hallways that all led to the audience chamber on the top floor. The chamber was large enough to hold several dozen patrons, but on this particular day, it was just Zavv, his bodyguards, and Dyrk Tannen.
Zavv sat in the back of the room, on a small but beautiful throne-like chair. It was fashioned from the bones of some exotic off world creature, and given a very fine polish. Zavv himself was a tall, decently built, handsome man with short, dark hair and brown eyes. Though that was the end of his appeal. His gaze was colder than the frosty winds of Hoth, and he spoke in such a dark, intimidating manner that even a Gundark would find disturbing.
Zavv sighed as he listened to Dyrk's squeals of terror. He'd heard it all before, the pleas from a condemned man. He'd heard 'I have children!' and 'It won't happen again!' far too many times, to the point where it just got annoying. Dyrk had been begging for mercy for the better part of twenty minutes, and Zavv was getting sick of it. He looked over at his two Weequay bodyguards, who showed no signs of boredom.
"Enough, Dyrk, I'm not convinced." Jalil said coldly, "You know what happens to people when they cross me, right?"
"R... right..." Dyrk said.
"Well? What happens?"
"You kill them..."
"Well, not for the first offense. For the first one, I cut off one of your fingers, one of your choosing. So which will it be, Dyrk?"
Dyrk sat there, dumbfounded, like a confused dog. He held out his hand, then stuck out his ring finger.
Jalil laughed out loud. "I guess you won't be needing that one, huh?" he said as he got up and grabbed Dyrk's arm. He pulled out his vibroblade, lifted it above his head, and stopped. Dyrk shivered in fear, and Jalil began to feel empowered.
"Your Juri Juice days are over, Dyrk. Right?" Jalil asked quietly.
"Y-y-yes sir!" Dyrk spat out nervously.
Zavv stuck the blade back into its sheathe and let go of Dyrk's arm. "Don't make me regret letting you go with all of your fingers. Now get out of here."
Without a moment's hesitation, Dyrk sprang onto his heels and ran right out the doorway.
Zavv sighed and looked at his guards. "I should be back within an hour or two." he said as he headed out the door.
He stepped out of his two story luxury home and into the blistering heat of Mos Eisley. As he walked through the markets and past the countless shops on his way to the meeting, he was curious as to what this meeting was about. Some of friendlier local spice dealers had requested that Zavv meet up with them to discuss some of the recent troubling events.
Zavv knew that one of the topics would be about the recent Imperial entanglements. Zavv was a big spice dealer, so the police didn't pose a threat to him, but his forces weren't as big as Jabba's, so he couldn't fight off the Empire. The Imperials had been cracking down on dealers in Mos Espa and Bestine, and even some of Zavv's associates had been caught. Of course, Zavv never allowed them to live long enough to tell the Imps anything important, but this whole thing meant that his business was at risk.
There were three Imperial investigators on the planet, well, three that he knew of. The closest one was Lieutenant Atrox, a brilliant officer who graduated at the top of his class on Carida. Atrox was the one who arrested Zavv's associates, and the only thing that kept Atrox alive was that he was smart. He always had a hiding place, some place even Zavv couldn't track him. Though, even if he could, killing an Imperial officer was a big deal, so it probably wasn't even worth it. Zavv was bloodthristy, but he wasn't crazy.
Zavv entered Chalmun's Cantina, and was greeted by the musty smell of dozens of different species from a hundred worlds. He recognized a few aliens, the ghoulish Givin, the shadowy Defel, and the short, talkative Jawas, and he even saw a few species he was not familiar with. But it didn't matter to him, as spotted his fellow spice dealers sitting at a table in the back corner of the cantina. They glanced up at him and beckoned for him to join.
There were three of them there. There was Thomas, a tall, bearded man with blonde hair. He and Jalil went way back, as they grew up together in the streets, scoring spice for some of the bigger dealers. If there was anyone on Tatooine he could trust, it was Thomas. There was also Breen, a moody Rodian with a high pitched, raspy voice. Finally, there was Hem Dazon, a short, yellow eyed Arcona who was addicted to multiple things, made clear by the constant trembling in his hands. These three were Zavv's spice buddies, the guys who kept him somewhat connected to the bigger cities on Tatooine and would back him up if he had troubles with the law or hostile dealers. Zavv almost considered them to be friends. Almost.
"Jalil, you made it!" Thomas said gleefully as he shook hands with Zavv.
"Of course I did, how could I refuse free drinks?" he said with a chuckle as he sat down in the middle of the group.
"How've you been, man?" Breen asked.
"Oh, well, things are alright, I guess." Jalil said, "We nabbed Dyrk just the other day, and I don't think he'll ever drink Juri Juice again!"
"He was a damn fool. Mos Eisley's gonna be a much better place without his drunkenness." Thomas said, "Dazon, go get our drinks, would ya?"
Dazon got up from his seat and headed off to the bartender.
"Oh, I never even asked you what you wanted..." Thomas said, clearly embarrassed.
"No, it's okay, I always get the same thing, Dazon knows it." Jalil said, "Besides, I'm far more interested in business. What brings us here today?"
Thomas and Breen glanced at each other, surprised.
Breen spoke up first. "You mean you haven't heard the news? Jabba's dead, man."
An icy shiver went through Zavv's spine, but he didn't show it. "Well it's about time!" he said with a laugh, "Who killed him?"
"He was iced by some Jedi yesterday," Thomas said, "It was a mess. The guy pulled out a lightsaber and started slicing everyone up. He blew up Jabba's sail barge with everyone on it, the big man and all of his boys."
Jalil began laughing hysterically at the thought of the scene. He wished he could have been there to see the whole thing. "This is great! Do you know what this means?" he asked. Thomas and Breen stared at him in anticipation. "It means we-"
"Here you go, guys!" Dazon said as he handed the men their drinks, "Sorry, did I interrupt something?"
"It's alright, I wanted you here to hear this..." Jalil said, "So, Jabba's bit the dust, now someone needs to take his place. It has to be us!"
"You're crazy!" Breen said in a hushed tone, "Black Sun is gonna be the one to do that!"
"I don't think so. Guys, I've been planning this sort of thing for years now... I've been waiting for that overgrown pile of sludge to die, and I've been putting together a scheme."
Dazon took a deep sip from his drink, then slammed it down, his hands trembling violently. "Oh yeah? Lay it on us."
"We need to eliminate the competition. We're going to murder the other spice dealers. They all have to die..." Zavv said coldly, "Also, we recruit the enemies of the Hutts. We pay them with the credits from the dealers we kill."
"How will we get their credits?" Thomas asked.
"We torture them until they hand over their accounts. I've done it before, it's easy." Jalil said, "So, after we've got a good thing going, with the dead competition and a good assortment of goons on our side, we begin expanding our business. We can take over the planet, control the entire spice trade, especially Jabba's former territory."
"But we don't know the first thing about Jabba's territory!" Dazon said, "The only ones who have that kind of info are the Hutts... and maybe the Empire."
"Then we get the Empire's number!" Zavv said.
"Yeah, great idea, man, let's just walk up to an Imperial officer and ask him for info on Jabba's territory. Yeah, I can see that working out well." Breen said cynically.
"Breen, come on, this part of the galaxy thrives off bribery! How do you think we caught Dyrk? All it took was a quick and easy bribe, easy as that. Well, anyway, first thing's first, we kill the other dealers. Thomas, you're the one with the spies. Tell them to find out where the other dealers live, then I'll take care of the rest."
"Jalil, we really need to think this through before we make a big decision like that. Is this plan really going to work?" Thomas asked.
"Yes, you'll have to trust me on this one. I've thought it through already."
"Okay," Breen said, "so what do we do after the other dealers are dead? No offense, but we can't run a criminal empire in your place. It's not fortified, it's in a spot where anyone could walk up to it and start trouble, and the place is way too small."
"Well, what's going on at Jabba's Palace?" Jalil asked.
Thomas began to speak. "It's-"
He was interrupted by a random patron stumbling over to their table. The patron was a pale, skeletal looking human male, with his eyes seemingly buried deep in his skull.
"Hey, Dazon..." he said in a slurred tone, "Y'got any 'o that good stuff? You know... the spice..."
"Not now, Szam, we're really busy..." Dazon said calmly.
The man snorted and slammed his fists down on the table. "I KNOWS YOU GOTS IT ON YA! YOU ALWAYS DO!" he shouted furiously.
His shouting drew the attention of the other patrons, and unwanted attention was something Jalil really didn't like.
"Dazon..." Jalil growled, "get your disgusting, tweaker friend out of here, now..."
"What'd you call me?" the man asked as he turned to Jalil, "You'd better watch yer tone, boy, or I'm gonna sock ya in the jaw-"
Without warning, Jalil kicked his foot up, knocking the table over and spilling its contents all over the inebriated spice head. The cold, alcoholic drinks stained the man's clothes, and Jalil knew exactly what to do. He quickly drew his blaster with blurring speed and fired, striking the addict in the chest. The alcohol on his clothes ignited, ingulfing him in an intense inferno. The nearby patrons immediately got up and moved to the other side of the bar as the dying man stumbled to the ground and crashed into a table. The bartender quickly sprayed the corpse down before it could catch the whole building on fire. When the body was finally free of flames, the entire bar was dead silent, the music stopped playing, and Jalil's friends looked at him with looks of horror, except Dazon, who was probably too inebriated to comprehend the situation.
"Damn it, Zavv, you just killed one of my customers!" Dazon said, more annoyed than disturbed.
"He had his chance to leave with his life." Jalil stated coldly.
The bartender looked over at Zavv, and began to say something, but Zavv glared back at him, with a look that would scare the wits out of anything with a few brain cells. The bartender looked away and went back to his business.
"Anyway..." Jalil said, clearly not fazed by what had just occurred, "let's meet up again in two days." he looked over at Thomas, "Do you think you'll have the locations of those dealer's homes by then?"
"Well, yeah, probably..." Thomas stuttured nervously.
"Okay, then after that, we can move on. Thanks for the drinks, boys, see you again later."
Jalil began to walk out, then caught his foot on the corpse of the man he had just murdered. His dead eyes glared up at him, and Jalil made eye contact for just a moment before he looked up at the bartender. "You should clean this up, the heat's only gonna make the smell worse."
The bartender still remained silent, so Jalil walked out of the bar and began walking back to his home. The streets of Mos Eisley were always packed with pedestrians, and an occasional landspeeder, and today was no exception. The sounds of engines, laughter, alien languages, shouts, and footsteps was almost deafening, though you tend to get used to that sort of thing.
The almighty Jabba is now a smoldering pile of ashes, Jalil thought, and Jabba's no phoenix. I don't care what I have to do to take his place.