"I don't care how it's done."
Amadi Rellius directed his muttered words to the tall, hulking figure standing opposite him, a figure swathed in robes so dark they rendered him nearly invisible in the gloomy light of the dank cavern in which they stood. Reaching into the folds of his robe, Rellius withdrew the slender, flat object concealed there and peered up at the cowled figure. "In fact, I'd rather not know. Plausible deniability, you understand."
He didn't know his silent visitor's name or anything else about him, although that was probably for the best. Tapping into his extensive network of connections, he'd reached deep into Areto's shadowy underworld to find this mysterious stranger, assured by his most trustworthy aide of both the assassin's discretion and his commitment to task.
He certainly looked the part; the outline of his imposing frame was veiled by a dark, billowy cloak, and with his face obscured by the dark hood drawn over his head that concealed his features, Rellius couldn't even be certain that he was dealing with a man at all.
A small noise in the distance made him pause, and he cast another look at their surroundings, anxious to ensure they were still alone. They stood huddled together in a small, natural cavern deep in the dark underbelly of the castle rock. It was one of several rocky inlets that had been sculpted by the waves, which were now used as access points into the lower levels of the estate. Like the stronghold above them, the shadowy chamber had been carved from white limestone, although algae, salt crust and streaks of black lichen now discolored the walls. The castle's occupants had also, at some point in its long history, expanded the space above. Just overhead, the ancient rock had evidently been chiseled by hand, shaped in crude imitation of the voluted architecture of the castle itself, and yellowed sconces embedded along the upper reaches of the curving walls cast a wavering, amber light.
Rellius despised venturing into this area of the castle, but the murky depths near the lowermost gate was the only logical place for such an encounter. He couldn't invite guests of this sort to his private chambers for a casual drink, after all, and to leave the castle grounds himself would attract unwanted attention. Two of the guards who had pledged secret fealty to Rellius—though they were ostensibly employed by the queen—had cleared the way for his descent to this chamber, and were now stationed just beyond the gate at the top of the short flight of stone steps that led up into the lower chambers of the castle proper. Rellius was grateful for their service and glad to have loyal men to keep watch while he conducted this clandestine exchange, but he was now anxious to see it concluded. Below their feet, relentless waves sloshed around the stout wooden legs of the low dock upon which they stood, and Rellius was reminded of the imminent turning of the tide. The mysterious figure standing opposite him still hadn't spoken, and their time was growing short.
The distant noise he'd heard wasn't repeated, so Rellius gave himself a mental shake and focused his attention back on the shadowy figure.
"Do you understand your instructions?" he hissed impatiently. "You must take the body with you and dispose of it far from here, leaving no trace of death or violence behind. It is vitally important for it to appear as though he has merely escaped and left the planet, not that he has come to any harm."
The stranger's hooded head dipped low as if in acquiescence, but the rasping, inhuman voice that emanated from that shadowy hood conveyed a distinct impression of dissent. "The associate who employed me failed to disclose the identity of my target," the creature growled in oddly accented Basic. "And now you inform me it is the Corellian Han Solo you wish to eliminate? That will cost you more than the sum agreed." The cloaked figure shifted his feet and angled his broad shoulders in Rellius' direction, before adding as an apparent afterthought, "My lord."
Rellius scowled. He had intended for this to be a brisk transaction; after a cursory explanation of the who and the where—the why was irrelevant, he reasoned—all that remained was for the infernal creature to accept the first payment and get on with the job, allowing Rellius to return to his own realm and await the outcome in apparent innocence. The stranger's objection and his demand for additional payment was an unforeseen and very unwelcome complication.
"Why should it cost more?" he snarled, striving to keep his voice low. "Do you take me for a fool? We have already agreed upon a price, and anything more is merely extortion. You have some nerve—"
The other being made a strange sound; a series of wet, snuffling snorts that Rellius belatedly identified as laughter.
"A far heavier price is required to take the life of a decorated hero such as Solo," rasped the specter in a tone of grim amusement. Then he held out a leathern glove—or perhaps it was a palm, Rellius thought with a shudder; he couldn't make out which in the gloom—and beckoned with a twitch of long fingers. "And all for the sake of maintaining your life as a pet in the lap of luxury…." The derision in the assassin's tone was unmistakable this time.
"That is none of your concern." Rellius's spine prickled. For a fleeting moment, he was tempted to call the whole thing off, dismayed and angered by the assassin's presumptive insolence. He'd naively assumed that hired killers would forego the snide commentary in favour of getting paid a small fortune for an hour's work.
The tide was turning now, although the water level was still quite low. At nearly full ebb, myriad sessile shoreline predators such as barnacles and cnidarians were exposed, and trailing mats of olive and brown seaweed draped over the rocks around the edges of the cave, their briny, sour odor conveyed into the arched entrance by the evening wind. Clawed crustaceans and nocturnal flying insects, illuminated by the wavering yellow light of the lamps, swarmed over the seaweeds' glistening tubular leaves and bulbs, plucking and scavenging whatever prey they could find still stranded within the rapidly drying, reeking green mass. Rellius shuddered at the sight of those cold-blooded parasites, busily gorging themselves before the tide came in and washed it all away.
The other being was still waiting, palm outstretched, for the money he was owed. "If you wish Solo eliminated, you must pay me what I ask," he insisted in a low growl. "Otherwise, it is not worth the risk."
Rellius gave an exasperated huff. "What risk? He's nothing but an aging human, a relic trying desperately to cling to the glory of his youth. He's locked in an isolated bedroom at the top of the southwestern tower—a room to which you now hold a key—and his guard detail has been reduced to two men. What could be easier?" Rellius was aware that his voice had risen steadily in pitch as he was speaking and was now verging on becoming shrill. With some effort, he softened his tone and spoke through tight lips. "Why are we even talking about this? Are you a professional or n—"
"You are no hunter," the other being snapped, his rasping voice now devoid of all humour. He turned his cloaked head a little further in Rellius' direction and cocked it to one side. From deep within the shadowy hood, Rellius caught a glimpse of gleaming yellow eyes. "But I am a hunter, and I know my quarry well. The reputation of that particular Corellian is well-known outside of backwater planets like this one. Solo is a survivor. Even imprisoned and stripped of weapons, he may yet present a challenge. Therefore, I require a third again of what we agreed, or you must find someone else to do it."
Rellius stifled the urge to exclaim again, painfully conscious of the fact that the transaction that should have taken no longer than a moment or two had stretched on far too long. Gritting his teeth, he extended a credit chip over the other man's palm.
"Fine," he bit out. "I shall pay you what you ask. The money doesn't matter. What matters," he continued as he pressed the chip into the waiting hand, "is that it's done. Tonight,quickly and quietly. No body. No evidence. Understand?"
The faceless mercenary closed his leather-clad fingers tightly over the credit chip, and the edge of his hood fluttered as he gave a single, sharp nod.