Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me; all of this is property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm, Lucasarts, and Disney. This story is also inspired by the film Goldeneye, which also does not belong to me. Goldeneye belongs to Eon Productions, MGM, and United Artists.

—10—

The spires that covered Nar Shaddaa glistened brighter than usual tonight. In plazas and cantinas scattered all over the Smuggler's Moon were thousands of people from thousands of species cheering over the annual Galactic Swoop Bike races in stands around the tracks or through a viewscreen or holovid. The races took place from here to everywhere; from the criminal underground recesses of Coruscant, to the barren wastes of Tatooine.

In one such plaza was one of these races; swoop bike riders dashing through tunnels with lethal twists and turns. The riders desperately tried to pull ahead of one another—occasionally slamming another racer into walls, turning their opponents into molten slag heaps. Over the racing tunnels stood the cylindrical palace of Jabba the Hutt, its lighted and domed roof twinkling even against the vaster cityscape horizon around it.

Jabba watched the race with his wide, slitted eyes from a wall-sized window on one of the higher floors, his bloated, pudgy body convulsing in joy every time a bike exploded.

In the aftermath of another explosion Jabba sighed with contentment, checked a chronometer on the wall, and slithered around back to a collection of other Hutts behind him. There were a dozen of them, all in varying sizes but just as bloated and warty as he was. A silver protocol droid stood among them. As Jabba approached it it stood more rigid. The Hutts sat in a rough circle in a room with maroon rugs with gold trim, blob-shaped white sculptures in every corner, and dark green marble pillars lining the walls from floor to ceiling. When Jabba finally reached the circle there was a knock at the door. They all turned to look.

The duracrete door slid up and in entered Admiral Rom Mohc, dressed in his usual award-and-medal-studded Imperial uniform. He ran his hand through his short gray hair when he approached the Hutts.

Jabba spoke in Huttese, his protocol droid translating for him in a static robotic voice, "Good morning, Admiral Mohc".

"The gracious and exalted Jabba the Hutt," Mohc bowed his head to Jabba first and then to the others. "Gentlebeings of courteousness."

Jabba spoke again and the droid translated, "Please deliver your report."

Mohc began, "As this council is aware, 72 hours ago, a secret weapons development entitled the Dark Trooper Project, was activated and destroyed an Imperial Weapons Facility on Balmorra. As former head of the project, I personally undertook the investigation. I have concluded this crime was committed by Imperial separatists seeking to turn the blame to organizations such as yourself."

The Hutts looked at each other, tails and eyes twitching in aggravation.

Mohc continued, "Regrettably, the astounding work and hard currency earnings of Imperial weapons development on Balmorra have been set back by several years. Therefore, I'm considering my resignation."

The Hutts muttered, wide-eyed at this rumination. Jabba smiled, touching his fingers together, and spoke in his deep voice. The droid stuttered, "It seems the council does not want your head, Rom Mohc." At this Mohc bowed his ahead again in thanks and Jabba's droid continued while the Hutt spoke, "Merely your assurance that there are no other activated Dark Trooper units."

"I can give you that assurance, splendid Jabba," replied Mohc.

"Then what of the two missing Imperial engineers?"

Mohc stared back at Jabba and turned pale, "I was aware only of the one: Rix Danime."

"There was another humanoid also, whose body was not among the dead. He simply went by the name 'Lahid'. A level-two engineer and technician."

"I will investigate immediately, almighty Jabba," Mohc spoke coldly.

Jabba smiled again as he again rumbled, his droid hurrying to catch up with him, "It would seem presumptuous to blame this incident on Imperial separatists before the whereabouts of your people are determined. Do you agree?"

Mohc paused, "Yes, powerful one. Thank you for bringing it to my attention."

In turn, Jabba paused. He voice rumbled again and his droid stammered, "That will be all."

Mohc stared at Jabba and then forced a smile.