I would just like to thank Forumsurfer for the review. You don't know how good it is to see that my work is appreciated. I just hope i eventually have a few more readers than one.

Chapter 4

Yawn woke without any foreign aid, as he always did. In the darkness of his quarters, he groped for his karabbac mask. Only when it safely was fitted over his face did he turn on the light and get dressed.

Blixem loved to fly. He had since he first piloted a ship during his sixteenth year. Many of his kind practiced meditation as a means of achieving deep thought. But the Gand could only think in the solitude of a ship's deck, now when the rest of the crew was asleep.

The door opened, and Yawn stepped inside, the thumping of his boots cracking Blixem's serenity. The Gand was annoyed for only a moment, he enjoyed the captain company as well.

"Do you ever sleep?" Yawn asked

"Of course Blixem sleeps. Blixem just don't need as much sleep as you do."

The Kaleesh sat down in his chair, pulling a monitor screen in front of him. "Computer," he said in a low voice.

"Yes sir?" asked an echo.

"Who's on the market today?"

"Onaga the Hutt is requesting your assistance with one of his former employees. The Black Sun is requesting the head of a Senator, for an unspecified reason. A contract has been activated by Lama Su, Kamino's Prime Minister. An anonymous buyer has filed a contract on a Jedi."

"A Jedi?" Yawn asked.

"Yes sir, a Jedi."

"No one puts contracts out on Jedi. No one accepts contracts on Jedi."

"The contract is here sir. Everything seems legitimate."

Yawn typed at the small monitor before the pilot seat. It blinked black, before the contract in question flickered onto the screen. He examined it, confused, until he decided it was real. How long had it been since he last killed a Jedi, Yawn wondered. He had to admit to himself, he'd gotten lucky. It would be foolish to assume he could do it again.

"We're going to Kamino," he decided aloud.

Blixem nodded recognition. A lone finger drummed the hyper drive coordinates into the computer. "Jump in five seconds," he warned. The stars swirled around the ship.

Descending onto a planet was never without its difficulties. Gravitational pull constantly tried to pull the ship forward, slacking on the controls could mean too fast of a descent, which would mean lose of control. To descend too fast could mean burning up in the atmosphere.

None of that happened though. Blixem held tightly to the controls, using the planet's gravity to draw the Nemesis in but always maintain complete control.

"Cruiser, please identify yourself," said a voice over the radio.

"This is Captain Krieger," the Kaleesh said into the microphone. "I have business with your Prime Minister regarding a certain contract. Requesting permission to dock."

There were hushed mutters over the radio as the speaker conversed with a second person. At last, the voice said, "You are cleared for landing on pad six."

"Thank you," Yawn said.

"What weapons should we bring?" Blixem asked.

"Only side arms. We don't want to start a war. Kamino is peaceful, nothing heavy."

If engaged in a shootout, Yawn enjoyed a high capacity, strong stopping power, and good range, preferences reflected in his carrying a DT-57 pistol. Blixem preferred a lighter weapon: the KYD-21 blaster pistol. Though boosting good strength, the blaster's best aspect was its small size and handling, especially in close quarters.

Even the short walk from the ship to the indoors left Yawn and Blixem thoroughly saturated.

"Greetings," a Kaminoan addressed them. She was extremely tall, far taller than the Gand or the Kaleesh. "I am Si Toph. Is there anything I can help you with?"
"It's a pleasure to meet you Si Toph. I'm Captain Krieger. This is my pilot and partner, Blixem. I request an audience with your prime minister, concerning private business."

"Very well," Si Toph conceded. She brought them through the sterile catacombs of the indoor city to an office door flanked by two Kaminoans. They were armed with a vibro spear each and dressed in tight, leather like armor: more aesthetically pleasing than practical for their positions as bodyguards.

"I'm afraid weapons are not permitted in the Prime Minister's chambers. Please deposit any ordinance with the guards."

Yawn unholstered his DT-57, but passed it down to Blixem. "My pilot will remain out here," he said.

Lama Su's chambers were blindingly light and uncomfortably cool. For a Kaleesh at least. There was no doubt the room was tailored to a Kaminoan's liking.

"Greetings, Prime Minister," Yawn said with a submissive bow.

"Greetings Kaleesh, I see you answered my request."

Yawn couldn't identify any visible weapons, but in his experience, weapons could be hidden anywhere: up a sleeve, beneath a shirt. A desk separated the Kaleesh and the Kaminoan, which offered the perfect cover for any number of blasters.

Yawn examined a small, palm sized computer he kept in one of his vest's pockets. "Kay Swann. The amount offered to me is fifty thousand credits."

Lama Su formed a pyramid with his long fingers as his eyes closed to half slits. "You must understand. This is not something I do lightly. My people work to retain a certain level of…pedigree in our breeding. It is necessary, given the poor shape of our planet. You might say Swann slipped through our grip of perfection."

Yawn said nothing, calmly listening to the Kaminoan. Most sentients needed some sort of justification when they hired him. They clung to some belief that what they were doing was morally right.

A slender finger passed a slip of paper across the table. Yawn's claw retrieved it thoughtfully.

"Just one condition," Lama Su asked. "Don't make her suffer, without cause."

It was late in the night. Kay Swann had had trouble sleeping, as usual. As an alternative to the human practice of counting large, wooly animals, she decided to sit by the window. The heaviest downpour had ceased, only a gentle pitter-patter hit the windows. Lama Su had heard of planets that didn't always rain, planets that didn't even have rain. Someday she would visit them, she decided. Just once she wanted to see a sky without clouds.

"I've got her. Forth floor, second window," Blixem said. He was perched on the roof of a neighboring building, his big bug eyes looking through a pair of binoculars.

Yawn, who kneeled beside him, cocked his slug thrower, holding it steady with both hands. At last, his target fell into his crosshairs. His finger squeezed the trigger, the rifle bucked backwards. A single bullet through Kay Swann's left eye. It broke through her brain, at last bursting through the back of her head in a spray of grey matter. She died instantly.