Facets of the Same Crystal
III – So Push the Magic Button
I woke up with a splitting headache.
It wasn't terribly surprising, considering how much I had had to drink the night before, but the morning-after reality was still a bit much to
deal with. Particularly the bright sunlight of Tatooine's binary stars. Gods, but my head hurt.
I couldn't for the life of me remember why I was on that god-forsaken planet, or what exactly I had been hired to do. I had a vague feeling of foreshadowing, and for an instant the image of a Jedi flashed through my mind. But as quickly as it appeared the vision faded and died, and I shook my head to remove the last shadows of the dream. For dream it must have been, since even in my hung over state I had absolutely no idea who that particular young man was. Mores the pity, a sly part of my mind whispered, he was kinda cute.
Oh well, I thought to myself, it didn't matter. Dreams were not important, only the reality of the job and the satisfaction of being well-paid for what I do. Though, I thought, rubbing my aching head, there were disadvantages to being well-paid. The amount of highly expensive Corellian brandy that I had been able to buy myself the previous night was definitely a disadvantage. Well, not at the time, but now I was regretting my actions the night before. Still, at least as far as I could remember, there had been no singing taking place. That would have been too embarrassing.
I got to my feet wearily, and cautiously made my way into the bathroom, slowly going through the familiar routines of making myself ready to face the day (or what was left of it anyway). After showering and washing my real hair, I dried it slowly, deciding that I couldn't be bothered brushing it and tying it up in a bun beneath one of my wigs. For today at least the universe could see what my hair really looked like. As for my face, well, as always I painted it, just a little, enough so that no one would recognise me, but not caring enough to bother with actually changing my features.
A tattoo painted on one cheek added an air of mystery to my appearance, carefully designed to look like a stream of blood falling from a number of places just under my left eye. Sure, it would attract attention, but I didn't really feel much like blending in. Besides, Tatooine is at the end of the universe, everyone there has something to hide and no one was able to blend in, unless of course you possessed the unlikely ability to blend in with boring desert sand. I hate Tatooine, have I said that before?
Anyway, I sat back down on the bed a little while later, and gave up on trying to piece together the events of the night before. They were in the past now, and not worth worrying about. I live for the moment, it's easier to get by that way. Sure, it might not be truly living, but it is a life.
I shook my head, and in the process of doing so was able to spot a half-empty bottle of brandy lying gently on the floor beside my bed. With a cry of joy I leapt for it, taking a swig as soon as I could get the damn thing open. I could feel my headache starting to lift almost immediately and was glad. The brandy burned at the back of my throat, but I could not care in the slightest.
Finally I felt ready to deal with the next phase of my life. I tapped gently a special key combination on my wrist communicator, which sat heavily on my right wrist, whispering softly as I did so.
"Revenge is a dish best served by me. Watch your back."
A blip from my communicator answered me and I smiled, glad that I hadn't
decided to change the pass code while enjoying my drunken revelries the night before.
That had happened once before and it had nearly driven me mad trying to recall what the
new phrase I had chosen was. Still, let it not be said that I don't learn from my mistakes.
Pressing a few new keys, I managed to bring up the information about what
exactly my latest assignment was. Oh yeah. I had to kill a stupid Gungan to protect the
entire Galaxy from destruction. Or something like that anyway. I didn't really care much
for the prophecy my employer believed in, but he was paying me well so I chose rather
wisely to ignore his odd religious beliefs.
Now, as far as I could tell, the Gungan was currently visiting a Jedi friend of his
who lived on Tatooine. That was the other reason I had taken this job. My ship was in
need of repairs and I had needed to fill in a few days while I waited for the guy in the
shop to fix it. A lousy Toydarian by the name of Watto, in case you're ever in those parts.
He did the worst job ever of repairing my ship and frankly was not worth the money he
charged. If you're ever in need of assistance, avoid his shop he will swindle you out of
whatever money you possess and do a terrible job on the actual work you're paying him
for. I did hear a few rumours about him having a gambling addiction, but that's not my
problem now, is it?
Anyway, given the rather sensitive nature of my assignment, I thought it best to
find out a little about this particular Jedi friend the Gungan was visiting. Turns out I
didn't recognise the name, but that was hardly surprising. There are too many bloody Jedi
by far, one day someone should do something about that. They are always interfering
with my work, for one thing. Anyway, I managed to obtain a copy of the Jedi's address
and headed out on my speeder bike to see what I could see about the young Anakin
Skywalker.
It turned out though, that my information had been incorrect. Sitting in a café
across the road from Anakin's place and scanning it with a pair of seemingly-innocuous
sunglasses, I was able to detect that the Jedi living in that house did not match up with
that in the files I'd uncovered. But, it did match up with someone else: one General
Kenobi, the former Master of young Anakin Skywalker. This was interesting.
He and the Gungan were sitting at a table talking. It almost made me wish I had
taken that lip-reading course my teacher had recommended for me. Almost, but not quite,
or I suspected that the amount of effort I would end up spending trying to read that
Gungan's lips would be massive. Still, I'd found my target, and first chance I got, I would
eliminate him. That's what the job is all about, after all.
The coffeine available in that part of the world is almost as good as the
mechanics. That is to say I couldn't finish my first mug and stood up a little unsteadily
afterwards, the last of my hangover fleeing from the power of this terrible drink. I
decided to take a walk to clear my head, remotely instructing a droid on my speeder to
keep an eye on the Jedi's place and report all movements.
It was some time later, as I was wandering through a market bazaar, that a blimp
on my wrist communicator alerted me to something going down at the Jedi's place. It
was nothing major, judging by my scanners, just the Jedi going out to visit the shops or
something. The Gungan had been content to stay behind. With a few tapped controls I
ordered the droid to remain where it was, and I moved off to intercept this General
Kenobi.
I saw him several blocks before he noticed me; though by the way he was acting I
suspected he could feel someone watching him. Actually, most humans have some ability
to realise when they are being watched, but assassins and Jedi are better at it than most.
They have to be; otherwise their careers are unremarkably short. Still, the Jedi knew I
was there fairly quickly, which suggested that he was reasonably good at his job. Now we
would just have to see how good he was.
Sure, I admit right now that I could have just sent my droid into the house and
ordered it to kill the Gungan while the Jedi was out. But what would be the fun in that?
No, it had been recommended that I make this dead look natural, and I do so love a
challenge.
The Jedi's path and mine overlapped outside one of the stalls of the many fruit
vendors in Mos Espa, and without breaking stride he muttered softly, "why are you after
me, bounty hunter?"
I could have given him any number of interesting and otherwise witty replies, but
I decided to settle for the truth, from a certain point of view. "I've never really known a
Jedi before", my voice was even, as I bent over to smell a bunch of desert flowers that
reminded me of rotting meat, "are they all as cute as you?"
He was taken aback. Good, it isn't easy to get a Jedi off-guard. I intended to keep
him that way. "So, you wanna go out for a drink tonight?"
This time he stopped walking, looking at me in shock. I tossed my deep brown
hair over my shoulder, shrugging slightly as I did so. He was very attractive, I decided,
and those baby blue eyes would no doubt be able to melt my heart if it wasn't so damn
tough. Better be careful, I thought to myself, this one could be trouble.
"I don't think so", he said in an offended tone, tossing his own hair in a mocking gesture. "I have better things to be doing than worrying about stalking low-lives like yourself."
A part of me had been expecting such a rejection, but it still surprised me. Perhaps because I'd never heard such a tone of condescension and pity before. What a jerk. I didn't need his pity any more than he needed my help tying his boots in the
morning. Actually, considering how rude he was, it was entirely possible that he didn't know how to tie his boots each morning.
I was angry, and anger always provokes me to my best work. Among my other talents, I'm a pretty nifty pickpocket and thief, and as General Kenobi stomped past me to return to the house in which General Jar Jar Binks was waiting for him, I employed those skills to full effect. It would no doubt be many hours before he even noticed what I'd stolen from him.
I set off for my hotel in high dudgeon, cursing loudly to all about how that Jedi had swindled me and was bad for business. Actually, I didn't care about how my ranting might affect his future shopping experience, I just wanted an excuse to rant and scream for a while. Not many people reject me when I make them an offer, and I was going to
make that Jedi pay. I quite wisely chose to ignore that part of my brain that kept bringing
up the topic of the Jedi in my dream the night before. I did not want to think about that.
And it wasn't until after I had flopped back down on the bed with a view to sleeping off the rest of the day that I remembered I'd left my speeder with the droid back by the side of that café. Sighing, I resolved to pick it up in the morning.
The next day dawned bright and clear, much like every other day on Tatooine, and room
service had done their duty in bringing me what I needed to make my plan a reality. I
finished packing up my present for the Gungan, tied it with a ribbon and wrote his name
in big letters on the front of a tasteful card, which read, "for your personal enjoyment,
from your new friend, Top-Az".
There was no way he'd be able to resist this, and no way the Jedi would be able to stop him without displeasing his guest. I added the finishing touches, a microscopic camera and radio transmitter, paid my bills and set out to retrieve my bike.
It was a terribly hot day outside. Gods I hate Tatooine. So bloomin' hot all day, and bloody freezing at night. There was nothing for it but to dress skimpily, wearing a new wig and a new face, along with some flowing new clothes that weighed nothing and seemed to actually keep me cooler than I'd expected.
The walk to the Jedi's place was long and hot and I really wished that I were somewhere else, somewhere colder. In fact, a tropical planet with its humid heat would be more pleasant than this. This was hell.
Anyway, I made it to the Jedi's place without incident, much to my own surprise. I even remembered not to drink the coffee at the café across the road. There was no time for reconnaissance, nor any need of it. My droid had been feeding me uninteresting information all night, and I would be glad to take it back with me. Plus I missed my bike.
I rang the bell on the front door of the Jedi's place, not bothering to check over
my disguise again. Anything out of place here would be noticed, I was sure of that, and
the Jedi's supposedly-hidden cameras that I'd noticed the day before would be checking
me and my disguise out well enough for the both of us.
The door opened wide and I grinned welcomingly. "Hi, I have a package for a General Binks? You him?" I had raised my voice into the upper registers, making my every expression be cheerful and bubbly. The simplest movement of my hand could convey a thousand meanings, and I wanted him to be sure that I was everything I claimed to be.
"No", said the ever-patient pain-in-the-you-know-what General Kenobi, "does he have to sign for this?"
"Yupyup!" I gave a happy little bounce, "it's an important part of the happy ninja delivery service policy. 'All packages must be delivered in person by the happiest of happy ninjas, with a smile and a care for the joy all packages bring'."
He rolled his eyes disparagingly, before leaning back into the house. "Jar-Jar", he called in a bored tone, "you have to come sign for this."
After a few moments the Gungan appeared at the door and I passed over my clipboard, smiling as I did so. "Just sign there", I said, gesturing, "and this lovely looking present is all yours."
"Oh, moi moi, mesa love presents!" The Gungan's barbaric use of basic was frightening, but we would soon be safe from it forever. I was very, very glad of that.
He signed as I'd indicated, and I passed over the box. "Have a nice day", I called as he started to juggle the present while trying to shut the door, "and tell your friend I think he has a cute butt!"
There was a muffled comment from outside, but I was already jauntily skipping outside and across the road to collect my bike. I did however, hear one last phrase from the Gungan as I left the soon-to-be crime scene.
"This says mesa is to open this on mesa own. That means mesa gunna go in my room to do this, just in case this-a private."
I stifled a girlish giggle, still in character. This was going to be good!
My ship was working better than it had in a long time, and for that I was glad. It couldn't have gotten much worse, that's for sure. But still, she was mine and I hers and dammit if we weren't the fastest ship in the galaxy I don't know what was.
And once I was a half-day away from Tatooine, I downloaded for myself the video my camera had recorded, and any related holo-news reports. It seemed that the Jedi Kenobi was being investigated following the death of a certain ambassador General Binks from Naboo. Though tragic, many commentators went so far as to suggest that the Gungan's death was a good personal thing, though traumatic for the people of Naboo. Personally, I didn't care either way, so long as my credit balance went up.
Finally, when I thought the boredom of heading to my next job would kill me, I allowed myself the opportunity to enjoy the video my spycam had captured before self-destructing.
Jar-Jar Binks loomed over the box, staring in shocked disbelief at what lay within. For a
moment he glanced guiltily towards the bedroom door, as if to see advice from the Jedi
without. But no, this was his gift and he would puzzle it out himself.
Reverently, he took the present out of the box and examined it carefully from one end to the other. It was obvious that he hadn't seen something of its kind before, so he was cautious almost to the extreme. If the outcome hadn't been foreordained I would have been tempted to fast forward the recording in order to get to something more exciting.
But finally, after much cautious deliberation, General Jar Jar Binks, formerly of Naboo, put the device to his eye to see better how it worked before pressing the activation switch.
A bright blue blade of incandescent light filled the room, not to mention the Gungan's head, and as his body stiffened in shock at his sudden demise he dropped the hilt. It fell, so that the blade sliced through his already dead body, causing it to fall to the ground in two pieces.
Nothing more was visible from the camera for a few moments, then there came a banging on the door and General Kenobi burst into the room, shock, horror and disgust flaring across his face. He stepped forward and recovered the weapon I'd stolen from him the day before, turning off the blade with a quick flick. At that pre-programmed signal, the microscopic camera dissolved itself invisibly, so that the Jedi would never even know anyone'd been watching.
Grinning to myself, I turned off the monitor, suddenly feeling much better about everything. With a sudden wave of excitement at a job well-done, I found myself wondering if I'd thought to bring any of that good Corellian brandy with me when I'd packed.