As chaotic, filthy, and loud as it was, Nar Shadda was a sight for sore eyes.
Void's exit ramp groaned as it lowered to the landing pad beneath. A thick, muggy breeze tugged Vhetin's kama about, making him look even more threatening as he strode onto the landing pad amid gusts of coolant steam and downdraft from his ship. The former General Luun was just ahead of him, still held at gunpoint. The Imperial, bound and gagged to avoid any last-minute complications, was shaking so badly it looked like he'd contracted a bad case of Kowakian tremor sickness. He'd also turned a strange shade of green since touching down. He obviously knew what was waiting for him on this landing pad.
As he stepped free of his ship's shade, his helmet visor darkened to compensate for the blindingly bright lights of Nar Shadda's entertainment district. Thousands of holographic signs offered means of recreation and pleasure to a hundred different species; some of it legal, most of it less so. And that was just in the few hundred feet that he could see with the naked eye.
Nar Shadda, the infamous "Smuggler's Moon" of Nal Hutta, had a population of trillions, and that population continued to fluctuate every day. The crowded skylanes had been bustling day in and day out for thousands of years and it seemed unlikely that that would stop any time soon. His helmet's audio dampers attempted to muffle the roar of the endless speeders and ships as they passed overhead. They were only partially successful.
He set off across the pad as he saw his employer waiting with a retinue of guards, mercenaries, and majordomos. The blue-skinned Twi'lek crime lord known as King Laatu stood patiently, hands folded over an intricately-carved scepter planted on the ground between his feet. His heavily-tattooed lekku twitched sporadically; the only sign that he was excited for the delivery. His bodyguards – a collection of battle droids and organics – waited on either side with weapons drawn and trained on both General Luun and the bounty hunter escorting him. When Vhetin drew nearer, King Laatu shot him a wide smile and spread his arms in greeting.
"Cin Vhetin!" the Twi'lek laughed in Huttese. "I trust you have a gift to present to me?"
"Here he is, as promised," Vhetin said as he approached, throwing Luun in front of him. The general sprawled onto his front, frantically trying to cover his head lest he receive a swat from King Laatu's scepter. Two of the King's bodyguards quickly darted forward and caught him under the arms to haul him to a kneeling position.
Vhetin gestured to the battered old man. "One Imperial General, as per your instructions. He's a little beat up, but you'll find he still has plenty of life left in him."
King Laatu drew back his expensive black nexu-fur robe and knelt in front of the former general, reaching out a single long-nailed hand to caress Luun's cheek. The Imperial cringed away, but a guard's firm hand on his shoulder kept him rooted in place.
"Ah, my friend," Laatu purred to the quivering man. "How I have waited for this moment. Twelve long years I have watched you from the shadows as you allowed your men to slaughter my people. You watched from your plush, comfy offices and barely batted an eylash as Twi'lek blood stained the sands of my homeworld."
Luun - who obviously didn't understand Huttese - moaned in fear. Laatu cocked his head, a smile stretching across his dark blue lips.
"What, you don't enjoy the company of the great King Laatu?" He gestured to the city around him. "You don't enjoy the sights of beautiful Nar Shadda? Many labor their whole lives in search of the decadence this city offers. Yet you clearly wish to be anywhere else in the galaxy."
Luun still didn't understand, and began to cry harder. King Laatu's face broke into a full grin, revealing stained black teeth. He reached toward the general and pinched his face in one hand.
"Know dis, Impuh'ial," he said in heavily accented Basic. "For all mah many faults, ah still love my people. But ya tink to hunt mah kind for sport?"
He shook his head. "No, no, no, no. Now what we do is dis: ah turn ya loose on Nar Shadda and mah kind hunt you. We see how sporting yah game truly is."
Luun went so pale, Vhetin was sure his even his slate-gray uniform lightened a few shades.
"You sure that's smart? Nar Shadda is technically Imperial territory, you know." The hunter raised a skeptical eyebrow that was hidden behind the faceplate of his helmet. He'd be damned if he went through all the trouble to bring the general here only to have Laatu let him escape. "If he gets away, you have my number."
"Ah, Vhetin my old friend," the King laughed, reverting back to Huttese, "you can trust my men to ensure this slime doesn't escape. Now tell me, how has the galaxy been treating you?"
"Better than in the past," Vhetin didn't bother to speak Huttese. He knew Laatu could understand him regardless.
Laatu stepped forward and grasped Vhetin's shoulders in a ceremonial Twi'lek embrace. "It means a great deal to me that you were willing to hunt down this... this schutta," he spat in Luun's general direction as he said it, "even at the price you proposed.
"My people are in your debt," he said. "You have done me a great service I will not soon forget."
He barked at his thugs to step forward. One of them, a Gammorean, lumbered up with a datapad in his meaty hand. He held it out to Vhetin with a snorting grumble.
Vhetin took the pad as King Laatu said, "Plug in the number of your account, and the money will be transferred with the push of a button. I'm sure you are familiar with the process."
Vhetin nodded and entered the number of one of his many "ghost" accounts; credit accounts that served as waypoints for the money as it passed through a confusing chain of different societies, banks, and organizations before finally ending up in his private account, safely laundered and completely untraceable.
Once satisfied that the money was all there, he handed the pad back to Laatu, who tucked it into his dark robe. Their business concluded, the King bowed with another black-toothed smile. "I wish you many happy hunts for your future, Master Vhetin. Preferably in my employment, not against it."
Vhetin inspected his personal credit summary on his HUD and found to no surprise that the money was all there. Laatu was eccentric, but he was certainly a reliable employer. That was refreshing.
"Keep coming through on your payments, Laatu," he said, "and I'll keep coming back for work."
"Of course. It's just good business. Now I must bid you farewell. As you say… Ret'urcye mhi, vod."
Vhetin bowed his head, genuinely impressed at the crime lord's usage of the Mandalorian language. Laatu shot him one last grin. Then he spun, his robe flowing out behind him, and barked at his thugs. "Bring the Imperial! We have much to do!"
Vhetin turned silently and strode back up the ramp into his ship. This job was done. Time to leave Nar Shadda behind.
