A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...
STAR WARS
THE TALE OF THE HEAD HUNTER
PART III
THE HUNTER'S LAIR
by
Doug Mac Donald
A vast barge sailed through the Nal Hutta system, an orange-red rusted color of a ship with markings defining it as a cargo hauler. It traveled silently, speedily as though the shipment could not wait any further. It passed through the clutter of starships, never changing its steady course, but allowing those in its way to move instead, moving through the clutter like a memory buried from the past. The barge was allowed through Nal Hutta's outer defenses with surprising ease, and far too easy for it to be regular freighter.
The cargo of the Filthy Mire was indeed as precious as it was secretive. Not even the captain, nor his crew knew what it really carried, other than a good sized sail barge, it was assumed that it was a present for a Hutt. But resting noisily inside of the barge was Isleff the Hutt, waiting for his barge to be delivered. It was ever imperative to the Hutt that he keep his identity a secret. To get from place to place and not cause a lot of attention, Isleff would use this way occasionally to get around, hidden in a cargo ship, sometimes even a dungeon ship if it suited his purposes.
The Filthy Mire made its descent into the 'Beautiful Jewel's' atmosphere like a shark cutting through the water toward its prey. Isleff continued to sleep, despite the howling of the winds and the constant violent rocking of the ship as the friction of the ship's descent increased.
There was but one place on all of Nal Hutta that Skr'tee could hope to survive, and that was his home. Through the guise of night the creature made his way back, with no way of knowing if anyone had been inside since all of the motion detectors had been offline for months. The lights did not come on as he was accustomed to, working to his advantage this time. Quickly Skr'tee made his way to the decaying tree he had awakened beneath so many hours ago. Skr'tee seemed to make a quick search, and then seemingly satisfied left the area, pushing deeper into the forests.
Skr'tee found a small lake in the north end of the warehouse and slipped into it. A terrible rumble emitted from his mouth as he sunk into the mire.
'Such filth, it is no wonder all of the animals have died out, this water is poison to my skin. And thick too.'
The water was dark and indeed thick, like swimming through mud, but the bounty hunter did not seem to care, he knew these waters well. Skr'tee dove deeper and found a small tunnel. At the far end the water led to a small cave buried beneath the soil. He could not climb out of the stagnant mire fast enough. Standing upon the banks of the underwater cavern, motion detectors that were still in operation suddenly sparked to life, flooding the cave with an uncertain flickering light. A dozen wompbats screeched and took to the air. The lights revealed the underground system network that controlled all of the above ground systems. Skr'tee made his way to the main computer terminal and slowly began to work.
'But what of this enemy of mine? I know the face well, yet it can not be! That enemy is dead, I know for I was there....'
...it was a time, before Skr'tee even had a name for names were not needed on Maridun. A headhunter's entire life was their name and was easily recognized through eating a fraction of one's skin. Memories were exchanged and so the need for names was unnecessary. It was a time when Skr'tee was considered the most successful of headhunters. This creature had traveled the globe and had heads of every known species of Maridun.
It was a time when this creature had no desire to leave the planet, to become a galaxy wide hunter. No desire to be paid for his services. What this creature did not know was that he had been watched for many months now, watched by agents of those who paid well for such skills.
"You there, creature!"
The Amanin turned with great speed at the voice of the Gran that had suddenly appeared from the shadows.
The three-eyed Gran had drawn a blaster set to kill and seemed to fumble for a moment. In his left hand he held a translator and it took the creature several seconds to translate the Amanin's language. "Damn thing takes so...here it is." The normally sand-colored skin of the Gran quickly turned pale. His three eyes looked the towering Amanin up and down. He suddenly felt very small and his voice conveyed that. "You knew I was following you?"
The translator repeated the Gran's voice back to the Amanin.
"Jabba won't be disappointed with you. I am Krue Pleece and I work for the renowned... businesshutt the mighty Jabba." Krue waited and saw that the Amanin did not recognize the name. "My employer is seeking people with special talents, talents that you have. Jabba has authorized me to give you a generous offer. I'm gonna have to change this offer though, I don't think a cache of lumni spice and a generous amount of credits will mean much to you."
The Amanin nodded and turned from the Gran. Within seconds he was already out of Krue's vision. The Gran followed quickly. "Damn. We are also prepared to offer you the heads of any creature you chose from Jabba's own pens!"
"Damn. Then you can have that, whatever you want. Just name your price! Jabba is wealthy, he can give you anything!" He was losing this deal, too quickly. Jabba was not going to like this.
Krue Pleece stopped in his tracks as though he had been slapped. "You...you will?"
The laughter of a Gran is most unpleasant and Krue's was no exception. "It doesn't work that way headhunter. This is a deal that you can't refuse. Jabba won't accept that. And there is very little room to negotiate. You can't try a Hutt's patience like this. You'll be lucky if you get the original offer out of this. Now be sensible. You may be quick, and a great hunter, but do you think you can outrun a blaster?"
The Amanin's answer was simple. Skr'tee leapt to a tree and swung away from branch to branch, all in less time it took the Gran to find the trigger.
"Damn."
A metallic wailing howl filled the night sky, a terrible hot breath washed over the forest; the driest, yellow leaves caught fire from the flames of the ship's thrusters. It was a simple armored shuttle that landed in a clearing, while parts of the forest around it blazed in an orange glow. The Amanin watched (and felt the heat of the ship) as the hatch opened up like the maw of some unimagined beast, spewing forth a fattened meal that was Jabba the Hutt.
The slug-like creature bellowed out orders to his unseen crew. Suddenly various humans were scrambling around to obey the crimelord's orders. The perimeter was quickly locked down and surrounded by a dozen beings, mostly humanoids and some Rodians. The Gran was not in sight. "One of my people tell me that you are quite the hunter." Jabba slithered forward; the Amanin matched the Hutt's stride and towered over him.
"Ah-ha-ha. Now, now, hunter, do you believe that you are capable of such a feat? I don't think so. Now, as to my offer, I am also told that you have refused me. Is this true?"
"I am not accustomed to being refused, hunter." The Hutt turned to his men and gave an order in Huttese that the portable translator did not translate.
"This is what I'm accustomed to..."
A pale blue bolt lanced out across the clearing, jabbing the Amanin on the side felling him in an instant. Normally, such a blast would knock any creature into unconsciousness, but the Amanin struggled on. He reached out pitifully at Jabba, his mighty hand grabbing a handful of blubber, but before he could do anything a sharp pain raced across the creature's backside.
The twelve bodyguards surrounded the Amanin each drawing a vibroblade and began slashing at the creature's body. The Amanin screeched in terror, but not even the white-hot pain could blacken his mind into oblivion.
"I have read several studies on your race, headhunter. Your unique ability to regenerate limbs is not known throughout the galaxy. But it is known to me."
A leg was cut off, while another of Jabba's guards hacked off the foot. One of the arms was nearly pulled off too. "But there are several theories as untested as of yet that if you were to be cut in half, say," the other leg was now removed, the Amanin's protests drowned out the Hutt, "the other would regrow as a separate individual. It's time to put this theory to rest."
The Amanin felt his head removed next. He watched helplessly as one of the Rodians picked up his still moving arm and brought it to the shuttle. The headhunter lay there, staring up into the sky, watching the ship slowly rotate, its forward batteries charged. The last thought the Amanin had was the clear whine of lasers tearing into the rest of his body, incinerating every last bit of flesh.
...Skr'tee stretched his slowly growing arm, only an eighth of its usual length, but it could be used now. He looked at his good hand and thought of the many bounties he brought in for Jabba with these hands. Hundreds upon hundreds.
'I was but an arm when Jabba had taken me. Months of oblivion it was until I had regained consciousness and memories of the past. And many more months until I had regrown into completeness. I was treated well; had been a fool to not want to leave world. The Hutt's galaxy offered far more creatures, far more challenges.
'Yes, I recognize my enemy. My enemy is my once true self. The self that Jabba mutilated and then destroyed. Hunter must have survived blast, somehow. But why is my old self hunting me?'
* * * * *
Isleff's barge hissed and released various gases into the atmosphere. The cool air scratched at the lungs of those gathered beneath the barge's great bulk. Even Isleff looked cold.
"How goes the hunt?" The Hutt began his usual jocularity all but absent. Hidda stood, covered in a dark soiled cloak, head searching to the left and then to the right. A few trackers stood a short distance away, anxious to complete their task.
Small pudgy hands reached out from beneath Isleff's cloak, which then brought the hood tighter to his chin. The Hutt hated being cold, and was in a foul mood. "Skr'tee escaped." It was not a question. His other hand shot out and caught the Amanin by the collar, pulling him close to his face. Isleff licked his lips. "I have grown weary of this game, Hidda. It ends here, tonight. I will know if you will continue to serve me at the end of this night, or Skr'tee." Isleff was about to release Hidda when the Amanin was suddenly jerked even closer to those thick pinkish lips. "Or neither of you." The hand threw the majordomo to the ground.
Hidda found himself searching for his cloak that had fallen off. Picking himself up he draped the cloak over his back.
But Isleff had already returned to the barge.
'Very well, My Lord,' he mocked, 'This part will all end tonight. But after that, you shall follow. Enjoy your last night on your homeworld, slime. For it will be your last.'
Hidda turned to the lead tracker, a two legged, one-meter tall creature that used senses well beyond human comprehension.
"Close, close." The tracker spat in a scratchy voice, a voice that was unaccustomed to speaking long sentences.
"Yes, yes." The tiny creatures spun around and were gone.
'Within the hour,' the Amanin's mocking turned to himself. 'They have been searching an entire day and night, and they continue to give me the same answer. Close. Close. They do not know what close means. Never had I been so close and not know it when Isleff inspected Jabba's Palace. Reports stated that all perished, including Skr'tee. I...needed to be sure. I needed to see the body myself. And then to find out that Skr'tee was not dead, and watching us. That was close. Close.
'Jabba, the one responsible for all of this. At least his justice came for him. I can still remember the Gran, and the torture. Yes even the torture...'
...Hidda struggled against the effects of the paralysis. Even Jabba looked surprised when he grabbed a fistful of flesh. He could smell the sweat of the bodyguards, and the sweat of the Hutt, a thick oppressive odor like that of Maridun's worst bogs. When the first blade touched his skin, Hidda screeched in pain, but still he could not move. Incredibly, although his muscles would not obey his commands, the creature could feel every decapitation with mind-numbing clarity.
Jabba was speaking about Amanin biology, and of the methods he was 'accustomed' to, but Hidda was not listening. He was dying. One of the guards, a Rodian used his foot to turn Hidda over, onto his back. The headhunter stared at the black sky, praying for oblivion to take him. An altogether new sensation overtook him, a feeling that would never abate. Hidda could feel the tiny kernel-like teeth of the Rodian against his flesh. The Rodian had cut off his arm and then bit off one of Hidda's fingers. And although unattached, his arm's memories were his own.
The world began to spin as he felt a phantom pain of teeth mashing his own skin; the algae-smell of the Rodians mouth became thick in his senses. Hidda could taste the saliva as it worked to break down the meat, could taste the meat of several other animals this creature had recently eaten. While Hidda squirmed on the ground, another guard hacking away at his neck, he could feel himself slipping down the throat of the Rodian, into the darkness of the esophagus, could feel the muscles of the throat, working the morsel down into the gullet...
'As black and as filthy as this night. But I did not die there, Jabba may have been a successful crimelord, but he did not always hire competent help.' The blast from the ship that was meant to destroy Hidda had actually blown a large bit across the clearing. A bit large enough to grow again. 'It took years to regrow to maturity, and in that time, no one knew that I lived, not even that abomination Skr'tee. That creature relished in my abilities, and would not have been a success without my skill. Skr'tee is no longer me. Jabba stole him and molded him into a mockery of all headhunters. That creature isn't even a true Amanin; he is an embarrassment to what I was. '
Hidda had eventually found Isleff the Hutt and began working for him, scheming to bring about Jabba's destruction, as well as Skr'tee's. But Isleff was demanding and time was scarce for Hidda to conduct his search. It did not take long to learn that one does not refuse a Hutt (he had already been killed by one for that same reason), and when Isleff promoted him to majordomo, there was no choice to be made. But now that Isleff sought the bounty hunter, Hidda now had the full resources of a wealthy criminal empire behind him.
'But it still comes down to this. Skr'tee has been found, but we have been unable to capture him on the world were no one is your friend, and everyone is your enemy. No one has ever entered Skr'tee's home and we cannot search every hole on this accursed planet. Perhaps after a swim, my mind will have relaxed enough so I can resume the search.'
The smallest of the tracker pack scurried out of the shadows at that moment, clearly excited.
"Come. Come." The creature jumped excitedly.
"Come."
* * * * *
Hidda stood impatiently as the pig guard took its axe to the doors that led to the warehouse that presumably held Skr'tee. The axe shattered after making a small dent in the reinforced steel. The trackers were restless and jumped around incessantly.
The Gamorrean squealed as it rammed its full body against the door. It made a deeper impression this time and continued to bash against it until finally, the door gave way.
Hidda snapped his long fingers, signaling for the group of pig guards to storm into the warehouse. As they did so, Hidda followed in behind, still covered by his dark cloak.
It could see the layout of the place quite well, even in the darkness, and it was immediately clear to his eyes that this was truly the home of an Amanin. Trees from his homeworld were scattered throughout the place, complete with springs and a small river.
"Close! Close!"
Hidda allowed himself a smirk.
The trackers jumped excitedly and then disappeared down the alleyway.
The majordomo had little faith in the Gamorreans, and so slipped away into the darkness to aid in the search. Hidda leapt to the trees swinging from branch to branch.
The squeal of a pig guard alerted his attention, and Hidda made his way to the commotion. When he arrived, one of the green skinned creatures had fallen into a mire, and was entangled in a mesh of waterweed. It grunted and pleaded for help in its panicked state.
The guard, feeling the waters rising to its mouth thrashed all the more, succeeding in tangling himself further, the waterweed pulled the creature down into the depths. Another cry echoed across the plains, and Hidda went chasing after it. While he had been distracted here, Skr'tee must have attacked the other guards.
Skr'tee lunged at the fallen Amanin, and wrapped his good hand around the creatures fat neck. He snapped at its neck with sharp fangs. Hidda pushed his attacker away. Skr'tee went rolling away, cursing and muttering.
Hidda stood to his full height, throwing off his cloak, arms locked at his side, ready to pounce.
Hidda leapt into the air, and came down upon Skr'tee. Lifting Skr'tee above his head, Hidda flung him several meters away. Skr'tee rolled along the ground, bashing his head off of the giant dead tree, and was about to pick himself up when Hidda attacked again. This time, he bit at Skr'tee, tearing away a strip of flesh off of his growing arm. The regeneration process left the new limb highly sensitive to all senses, touch, smell and pain. Skr'tee howled and fell to the ground. Hidda jumped and landed on Skr'tee's midsection, forcing the breath out of his lungs. Hidda quickly wrapped his hands around Skr'tee's head and began to squeeze.
Skr'tee could only grasp with his good arm, which was not strong enough. The growing one, was covered with blood, and thrashed useless in the air. He closed his eyes, fighting back the pain and the beckoning call of unconsciousness. Minutes seem to pass when Skr'tee suddenly felt the tightness around his neck loose their grip, and the pressure from his chest disappear completely. His red eyes opened and saw that Hidda had fallen backwards and was wrestling with something.
Skr'tee stood and tore a pointed branch from the dead tree and turned to the Amanin. Hidda was rolling on the ground; a large yellow hand that was not attached to the Amanin was choking the life out of him. The hand had belonged to Skr'tee and was actually starting to heal and grow again where the bounty hunter had left it. Skr'tee stumbled over to the Amanin, brandishing a branch from the dead tree.
With a red fanged smile, Skr'tee lifted Hidda's arm and began eating it.
Immediately the Amanin's most recent memories came to the bounty hunter's mind.
Satisfied, Skr'tee walked away from the Amanin, leaving his arm as well. The bounty hunter picked up the majordomo's cloak and then returned to the lake and swam to the control center where the rest of his plan lay waiting.
The explosion could be seen miles away, it brightened the brown night sky with an eerie orange glow. The entire warehouse had been laced with explosives that the Amanin had set off, destroying his entire home along with Hidda, ensuring that that creature would not survive as he had done before. Skr'tee pulled the cloak tightly around his body and walked away from the burning mess that he once called home. Several of the surrounding places had also caught fire, more explosions thumped into the night. Eventually, the fire would grow and overcome the cantina he had visited and was betrayed in.
An added bonus.
Keeping to the shadows, which increasingly became difficult with the glowing blaze behind it, Skr'tee quickly made his way along the streets of Nal Hutta. 'Ah, Isleff's barge,' Skr'tee sighed, as several images from his last meal flashed across his face.
'Prepare yourself. Your time is nearing an end.'
* * * * *
"It would appear that I have my answer." Isleff spoke to the Rodian dancer before him. The Hutt's mood was fowl and the Rodian slave had already felt his anger. Her back ached from the blow Isleff dealt her with his tail, but she stood straight, trying to let the pain and hurt show. "Move the barge away from this sector with all haste," he spoke into a comlink. "I want to be at the docking bay within the hour! Well now, I suppose I should seriously begin searching for a new aide." Isleff's massive pink eyes fell upon the Rodian slave.
"How would you serve me, little one?"
Immediately he blurted out in a laugh that shook his belly to the very core. The dancer did not react. After wiping away his tears he called for his guards. "You bore me, woman. Guards! Take her away!" Isleff released the chain, and before the Rodian could think of fleeing, she was being escorted away.
"Torture her first! Don't just kill her outright. I want to hear her screams for the ride home. When we reach the docking bay...kill her." The sail barge lurched forward as the rear repulsors ignited, pushing the transport forward. Isleff sighed once more wishing things had ended differently.
He could not be certain that Skr'tee had perished in the explosion, but knowing Hidda and his success over the years, it was difficult to doubt it. And Hidda was loyal if nothing else. Hidda had a personal vendetta against Skr'tee as well, and would if given no other choice, perish to know that Skr'tee was deceased as well.
Isleff picked up a datapad searching for a suitable replacement.
The wind had picked up, sending a chill through Skr'tee's bruised body. He would be relieved when this night was done, and he could find passage back to Maridun where he would find the deepest, coolest lake he knew to soak in. But until then, he had a bounty to collect.
Skr'tee stood at the entrance to the alley, staring at the sail barge that was disappearing into the distance, the very same barge he had taken from Hidda's memories. At the sound of an approaching speederbike, Skr'tee turned to see a Corellian race down the street, probably the first of many scavengers that would visit the warzone. As the Corellian approached, the Amanin slipped into the shadows. The whine increased and with perfect timing, the bounty hunter stuck his good arm out, catching the Corellian across the neck. With unimaginable speed, Skr'tee's shorter arm lanced out at the same time and hit the bike's deceleration button. The man fell to the ground in a heap, while the speederbike raced away.
Using his one good arm and both legs, Skr'tee raced down the street, swinging from overhangs and signs, lumbering on his short feet when needed until he caught up to the speederbike, grabbing one handle, Skr'tee leaped from the ground and pulled himself up onto the bike. The wind battered his face, throwing back his hood. He howled a curse into the night and sped off after the barge.
The barge had tremendous speed, far more than that of a speederbike, but could not use it in the cramped streets of the Hutt homeworld. If it were out in the open, not even a landspeeder would hope to catch up with it. But as such, Skr'tee quickly found the barge and rode alongside it. With a flick of a switch, the speederbike flew on automatic, while the bounty hunter stood on the seat, balancing precariously, trying to find the best handhold.
Skr'tee was running on automatic now, the site of the black concrete racing by did not bother the creature in the least, that a miscalculation would end up crushing Skr'tee like an insect. He leapt to the side of the barge, fingers and toes skillfully finding holds without a problem. The thrust of Skr'tee's jump had pushed the speederbike away, which was now racing along pilotless. Skr'tee watched as the bike exploded against a building. Turning back to the climb ahead, Skr'tee slowly inched his way toward the upper deck like a spider, body tight against the ship.
Skr'tee was nearly to the top when he spotted the silhouette of a tall figure, keeping to the shadows. The figure was cloaked in a brown robe, face hidden by a ragged hood. The Amanin slipped over the rails and landed softly on the deck. The figure was staring into the distance toward the stern of the ship. Without a sound the bounty hunter made his way toward the figure, slipping between the deck generators. The creature's profile was clear to him now. A soft gasp escaped his mouth.
It was Hidda.
But that was not possible, Hidda had been completed destroyed in the blast, Skr'tee had seen that himself. Was it possible, however remote, that the Amanin escaped? It would not have been the first time.
Hidda heard the quiet noise and turned to face the intruder. His face looked surprised as well but after a few moments the muscles relaxed and the creature turned back to the streets.
Skr'tee stood to his full height.
The bounty hunter retreated further into the shadows, muscles tensing ready to spring.
With a terrible grunt, Skr'tee found himself sailing over the railing face first. Screeching, the Amanin reached out and caught the rail with his underdeveloped arm that nearly pulled itself out of the socket as the creature's fall continued its arch, slamming against the side of the sail barge. His good hand was still locked around Hidda's neck.
Hidda felt hiss neck nearly snap as Skr'tee fell over the side. He gasped for breath but to no avail. His crimson eyes darkened with the pain. He clawed at Skr'tee's fingers. Through his own skin Hidda could smell Skr'tee's rage, could taste his adrenaline like a sweet nectar.
The bounty hunter was using his legs to climb up the railing, still pulling Hidda's neck back. His mouth was only inches away from Hidda's ear.
Hidda could hardly breathe, let alone speak. 'It was...the...other.'
Skr'tee climbed back onto the deck, pulling Hidda with him. He straddled the Amanin, pushing his neck against the deck; hid grip loosened, but only fractionally.
Skr'tee stood and started after Hidda.
Hidda slipped into the shadows once again, taking refuge behind the deck generators.
Expecting an ambush, Skr'tee moved to the center of the deck to the main pole that held the overhead sails. The hunter used his lengthy arms to climb the mast, moving along the frame of the sails. With a terrible scream that echoed into the night, Skr'tee let himself drop between the generators, on top of Hidda. They both tumbled to the deck, their arms tangling together in a desperate struggle.
With a hiss, Hidda bit into Skr'tee neck with his fangs drawing thick black oil and blood.
Their arms locked together again, jaws snapping like rabid dogs.
Hidda, still grasping Skr'tee's arms, fell to the ground and pulled the hunter down with him. Still rolling with the momentum, Hidda came to his knees first and pinned the Amanin down. Violently, the Amanin slammed Skr'tee's head against the deck until the back of his green head split, sending streaks of blood over the deck.
Hidda continued to growl.
Skr'tee eventually struggled free, but Hidda was still on the offensive, battering the bounty hunter with his fists, forcing him back toward the edge with each blow.
Another blow to the face.
Skr'tee stumbled and dropped to the deck. Hidda swung his massive fist again which was stopped in mid air by Skr'tee's own hand. The Amanin stared at his fist with disbelief, now held by Skr'tee. The headhunter should have been unconscious now.
With that, Skr'tee yanked Hidda's arm, hurling the Amanin over the railing and into the darkness below. He watched the body disappear far below and did not move until Hidda was completely gone from sight. Skr'tee slumped his shoulders with exhaustion, and yet the night's work was not done.
There was still Isleff to deal with.
He could feel the power of the thrust engines from the other side of the deck plates. Quickly he tore into the plating, creating a hole large enough for him to slip into. The noise of the machinery was deafening, but he did not care, for he would not be there long. His red eyes pierced the darkness as if it was the middle of the day. He was searching for the coolant lines that ran to the thrust generator to prevent it from overheating. The pipes ran below the generator in a maintenance shaft that made up the ceiling to the decks below. Skr'tee ripped another deck plate off and slipped into the maintenance shaft.
'This will serve more than one purpose. I can travel unseen, and obtain moisture.'
The maintenance shaft was barely large enough for Skr'tee to crawl through. The coolant pipes were dripping with moisture throughout the entire shaft. The first several meters of the shaft had been superheated from the engine and the water leaking from the pipes scorched the hunter's skin and tasted horrible from the radiation. Skr'tee continued on, trying to navigate through the many turns and twists.
Screaming could be heard, echoing thorough the corridors. The scream of a female was being broadcast across the ship's communication system. Minutes passed and the screaming did not abate, Skr'tee found himself pleasantly moist from the leaking lines, as he made his way to the personnel quarters. It was not a difficult task to find Hidda's personal quarters, for it was the only room that had a wading pool full of rich Maridun water. There, he found Hidda's staff and a fresh cloak.
* * * * *
The Amanin entered the main corridor, walking with a confident stride. Several of Isleff's henchmen did not hesitate to move out of his way, but they all gave him a curious glance. Clearly Hidda's death had already reached Isleff.
'Isleff did not know of Hidda and the Other.'
Skr'tee reached Isleff's audience chamber and was met by a company of guards. The leader, a tall hulk of a Corellian placed a hand on the Amanin's chest to stop him. "Isleff won't be disturbed, not even by you headhunter."
Skr'tee fought the urge to massacre the guards and struggled in his mind for the proper words to say. He had consumed some of the Other and so was now familiar with his duties.
"You're supposed to be dead." the Corellian replied, eliciting laughter from the rest of the company.
The Corellian nodded, hand falling to his holster. "Listen here headhunter, Isleff is in no mood for this..."
The Amanin stepped so he was standing directly against the Corellian, looking down on the pale skinned creature.
The guard stared into those ruby eyes and felt his courage falter. "All right. It's your head." The rest of the company broke into a fit of laughter allowing the Corellian to appear to walk away from the confrontation with the upper hand.
The Amanin pulled the hood over his head before entering Isleff's audience chamber. The Hutt was alone, still searching a datapad for Hidda's replacement. The headhunter entered the chamber, head bowed in a respectful manner. As expected, the Hutt did not acknowledge the creature's presence for several minutes. The Amanin was only a meter away; the Hutt had never looked so vulnerable.
Isleff finally peeled his eyes away from the datapad to look at the visitor. His anger surfaced immediately. "Who permitted you inside?" As always, the Hutt offered a question with a most difficult answer. And should the answer displease him, then death was rarely swift. The female's voice screeched across the overhead speakers.
The headhunter removed the hood, dropping the entire cloak to the floor.
The Hutt's eyes bulged imperceptibly from the surprise, and then began chuckling. "Hidda!" he said, still chuckling, as he stared at the Amanin, Isleff's chuckle turned into a deep laugh that quickly grew out of control. "By all that is indecent on Nar Shadaa! Hidda! I thought you were lost for good this time."
His face drew serious. "And so how was it that you escaped the warehouse?
And then climbed aboard my barge without my knowing?
"Ah, mysterious as ever, eh Hidda? You will have to reveal your secrets to me sometime. And as you know, I pay well for such information."
The Amanin drew the equivalent to a smile on his face. The screaming of that poor female finally stopped. A strange gleam entered Isleff's eyes as he studied the Amanin.
"This charade has grown quite tiresome, has it not Skr'tee?"
Before the bounty hunter could reply, The Hutt swirled on his dais, swinging his tail in a furious arc. The tail caught the Amanin across the skull, sending him across the chamber. The blow was hard enough to crush most, but Amanin's were made of something stronger. Skr'tee rolled with the blow and came up standing. Isleff slid from his dais and onto the cold stone floor. His tail lashed out again, this time Skr'tee dodged it, when the tail smashed the wall into a shower of concrete, he realized he made a fatal error.
Isleff was now close enough to grab the headhunter with his bare hands. "Did you really think you could take on Isleff the Hutt, bounty hunter?"
Isleff had the Amanin by both arms, clasped tightly against its sides. Their noses were only inches apart. Isleff inched himself forward the bulk of his stomach was slowly crawling over the Amanin's feet, trapping him beneath the great weight.
Skr'tee struggled, but could not free himself as the Hutt rolled forward like a steamroller, pulling more and more of the creature's body beneath him. Skr'tee could no longer breath, not from the weight against his lungs, but from the smell and feel of the Hutt's skin across his every pore. Every inch of his body screamed in repulsion and still he fought. He thought back to the day he had met Jabba the Hutt and that hand-full of flesh. It was said that not even blaster fire could harm the hide of a Hutt.
But it was rare for Skr'tee to use a blaster. Darkness was swallowing the headhunter into its endless deep; Skr'tee opened his mouth and fighting back further disgust, bit into the thick hide. As his teeth clamped down, the hunter jerked his head away, tearing a chunk of flesh away from Isleff.
"Ah-ha-ha, a mere insect bite, Skr'tee."
He could not bring himself to swallow the morsel. Skr'tee focused on the injured area and began gnawing at the opening, a few seconds later, the Hutt was swatting his pudgy arms at the Amanin, suddenly in great pain. Blood began pumping from the wound, drowning the Amanin in its dark filth. And still the creature dug, deeper into wound until finally Isleff rolled off and he could breath again.
Isleff's tail thrashed at everything, while raging in every known tongue and every obscenity he had learned during his long life.
Like a mechanical creature, Skr'tee spoke no words, but only limped over to the Hutt, avoiding the deadly snap of the tail until finally they stood face to face. The Amanin wrapped his good arm around the Hutt's neck. His arm wrapped completely around, his fingers found his own shoulder and clasped that. Isleff started to buck as he felt the pressure squeeze into his neck like a vice. This was followed by another entirely different sensation.
Skr'tee was pulling with all of his might, the Hutt's neck stretched with each tug, his foot dug into Isleff's stomach, the other braced itself onto the dais. With a sickening snap it was over. Isleff's head tore from his body, sending a deluge of blood across his body. Skr'tee stumbled backwards with his prize. And what a prize it was.
Isleff the oldest of all Hutts, never seen without a cloak, was his.
Skr'tee slumped to the ground, exhausted. He searched for the nearest tankard even the taste of a hookah pipe would be preferable to the blood that lined his mouth. Something akin to a mental buzzing was pestering the headhunter now; something was trying to surface. Isleff and Hidda were dead, and yet no one else had this information. And as the guards outside Isleff's chamber had proven, Hidda had survived yet another impossible hunt. Skr'tee looked at the headless Hutt, the knowledge and secrets of Isleff's entire empire was only a meal away.
Skr'tee made his way to the communications center.
The Gran that answered looked surprised to see Hidda's face staring back at him. "Yes sir?"
"Acknowledged." And with that, the location of Isleff's secret palace would be revealed to him.
As the Filthy Mire traveled through hyperspace, Skr'tee relaxed in the pool waters, fresh from Maridun that Hidda and the Other once enjoyed. A thick cloud of brown smoke hung in the air originating from the freshly rolled cigar that hung from his mouth. A silver platter rested on the side of the pool, a hunk of Isleff's meat sat on the tray, buzzing with insects. Beside the meat sat a dirtied vibroblade and several stacks of yellow leaves.
'I would thank Ephant Mon if I could. There was far more deception to the Chevin than even Jabba realized.' Skr'tee pulled the cigar out of his mouth, studying it. 'Hutt flesh is a most horrid taste, as vile as a Hutt mind if not prepared properly. I would not know this most excellent taste were it not for Ephant Mon. Now I understand why Mon kept this recipe secret. How many of these did the Chevin and myself enjoy in front of Jabba?'
Once the cigar was finished, Skr'tee reached over and sliced another piece of Isleff's flesh and rolled it into another cigar.
It was the best cigar he had tasted in a very long time.