STAR WARS
THE TALE OF THE HEAD HUNTER
PART II (CONTINUED)
HOUNDED
by
Doug Mac Donald
(Author's Note: For some reason, I kept running out of memory so I couldn't convert this into one file. So if you haven't read the first file, don't read any further!)
The bartender was on the comlink again, his face turning an ugly human red. The human hung up again and then motioned to the serving droid.
Returning his attention to Gergun,
"Nobody knows what Isleff wants. He wants you, but..." the serving droid wheeled its way to the table, interrupting the conversation. The Bith reflexively shrank back into the darkness.
The droid set another tankard of ale down and spoke to the Amanin in his language.
"Isleff wants you, that's clear, but there's talk, if you know where to listen, that he wants your skills. Isleff is in desperate need of good bounty hunters."
A human appeared from the kitchen and whispered something to the bartender. The bartender nodded and disappeared into the back. Skr'tee lashed out suddenly, his left hand had caught the Bith and pulled the creature close to be heard. Gergun squealed and tried to struggle free, but the Amanin's fingers were too powerful, too big.
"He's called Hidda!" the Bith screeched. He felt pressure upon his cranium now, the cantina was growing impossibly darker, and spots had appeared all over the Amanin's body. "He's Amanish! That's all I know! Please don't kill me!"
'So, I did see another Amanin with Isleff. Hidda is a Hutt name though.'
The door to the kitchen swung open, the serving droid made his way through with a platter full of meat followed by another shorter squat droid, carrying a tub of water. The Bith's hands wrapped themselves around Skr'tee's wrists, they felt like pistons. Gergun gave a final whimpering screech before Skr'tee crushed his head completely in his hands. The Bith fell back into his chair, hood deflating.
A few curious glances were thrown to the back of the bar in their direction, but all they saw was a cloaked figure seemingly sleeping across from the bounty hunter.
Skr'tee looked over at the slumped form of the Bith.
The Amanin watched as the two droids left. His left arm accidentally touched the small puddle of water the droid had spilt; a shiver suddenly ran up and down the creature's body, his neck gills began puckering greedily. His skin had tasted the succulent exotic waters of Maridun. Skr'tee ignored the food and picked the heavy metal tub to his lips and drank greedily. Fresh, clean water splashed from his mouth and poured down the sides of his neck. None of it went to waste as his dry cracked skin sucked in the excess. He left a few inches behind to wash down the meat, hoping that the creature had been dead long enough so that no memory residue was left behind.
Skr'tee picked at the food searching for a tasty morsel. The water had been a miracle, and so he was curious to see if the food was nahlee, or Amanin. The bounty hunter found a snout, but did not immediately recognize it. The gray meat was still fresh, and not cooked. As he touched the meat, his skin immediately registered a foreign chemical that was used by Amanin cooks that inhibited the memory residue long enough for the meal to be completed without interruption. Clearly the cook knew something of Amanin gourmet.
Hungry, Skr'tee took a bite.
An insane, angry ululation rocked the stone walls of the cantina. The Amanin had stumbled out of the cantina and found himself in a dark alleyway. He threw back his head and rumbled another vibrating scream that shook the walkway. Skr'tee screamed and screamed and screamed.
It was his only defense against the dark images that were seeping into his mind. The creature he had eaten (leaving not a single scrap) was revealing its many, many secrets to the Amanin. Secrets such as where to find hidden guns and weapons scattered across the galaxy; the life of a mercenary; hundreds of images of Jabba the Hutt; images of Skr'tee himself; images of a great temple dedicated to spiritual pursuits; images of large faces on short stalky legs.
Ephant Mon's memories.
The unending screaming was Skr'tee's nearest form of mourning at the discovery of the meal he had just consumed. Isleff had hunted down Ephant Mon and butchered him, and then served him up as a meal. The memories of the Chevin continued to assault the bounty hunter as he made his way down the alley, turning here and there. Trying desperately to outrun the memories. He could hear the excited shouts of Isleff's henchmen as they scattered out of the bar and through the streets searching for the bounty hunter.
Hearing the running footsteps of the pursuers, the Amanin took hold of a railing above and began scaling the outer wall of a building, losing himself into the night. On top of the building, he stared down at the alley before him. Several creatures were running about, knocking over dumpsters, searching for the escaped hunter.
All but one.
There was only one figure that was searching the skyline, looking skyward rather than ahead, and he was taller than the rest - Isleff's majordomo. Hidda.
Skr'tee was still seething with rage. 'This Hidda could have had taken me in the bar. But instead Hidda mocks me with homeworld water, followed by the flesh of a friend! He plays the game in much the same way Isleff plays. But Skr'tee has played more intricate games than this one.'
The Amanin stood on the ledge of the building, showing himself to the majordomo. Hidda stopped in his tracks. He was about to shout an order to his men when Skr'tee suddenly disappeared into the shadows and was gone.
- TO BE CONCLUDED -