Chapter 6.

The mysterious woman may have taken off, first. But, when she saw the Ambush Bugs intercept Gneesmacher's airspeeder, she veered her confiscated swoop towards an alley between two towering high-rise apartment buildings. And if any of the tenants of those buildings had looked out of their transparisteel windows, they would have seen a dark-haired human female, in a black-and-purple unitard, with a purple cape obscuring her shoulders. While simultaneously hiding the upper half of her facial features behind a purple mask fashioned to look like the eyes, ears, and forehead of an Atrisian shredder bat!

Yet, their surprise at this sight would have been nowhere nearly as big as the surprise this young woman felt at the sudden materialization of the Hawk-Batman aboard that same airspeeder.

"What in the name of the Force. . .?"

The rest of her muttered exclamation was cut off by the Hawk-Batman flying past the alley entrance after scaring off the Ambush Bugs. Flying back in the direction of the Multi-Ale'-Inn! So, she decided to follow him.

"Whatever he found out from the bounty hunter," she said to herself. "I'll simply follow this guy and let him do most of the work."

Meanwhile, at a certain free clinic (half a kilometer south of that aforementioned drinking establishment), a female Drall was finishing up the last of the patient visitation reports from earlier in the day. True, the clinic was open round the chronometer! Yet, it was during these lax times that she got most of her clerical work done with the least amount of interruption. So, she could not help but feel a little annoyed when she heard someone clear their throat muscles right in front of her reception desk.

She looked up to behold a dark-eyed Ayrou, in bright purple trench coat and matching round-brimmed hat, smiling at her.

"May I help you?" she asked.

The Ayrou nodded. "I'd like to see the doctor, please."

The Drall picked up a datapad.

"Name?"

"Rek'oj."

"And what seems to be wrong with you, Mr. Rek'oj?"

"I seem to have come down with a case of… infectious laughter."

The Drall scowled. "That's not funny, sir!"

The Ayrou's smile became a positively feral grin.

"Are you sure about that?"

"Really, sir! If you're not here on a serious matter, then I must demand that you... ha-ha! I must... ha-ha-ha! I... HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!"

Two seconds later, the one-and-a-half-meter tall rodentoid was rolling around on the floor, helplessly convulsed with hysterical laughter.

"See?" quipped Rek'oj. "I told you I was sick."

While there was no denying that he did enjoy this particular side-effect of his use of the Darkside of the Force, the intended primary effect was achieved when Dr. Redu C'to came from his office in the rear of the clinic to investigate all the commotion.

"Nurse Hedda! What in the name of. . .?"

". . .'the Emperor', Doc? Is that what you were going to say? I hope-I hope-I hope-I hope!"

The Bith physician stared at this bizarre intruder.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"We have a mutual acquaintance, Doc. A Kubaz info peddler named Drakvaar! I ran into him on the street, just a little ways north of here. And he had a funny story to tell me! Well, at least, it _sounded_ funny. Because, he literally _died_ laughing after he told it to me! In any case, he told me everything a certain bounty hunter had told _him_ about where a certain blaster had come from. A blaster that can decrease the size and mass of any being hit with it! And I find that intriguing. Because, a certain trio of Anomid tourists were able to radically _increase_ their size and mass, just last week, on Coruscant. So, if you're a good boy, and tell me who you got that blaster from, I'll not only spare you from going through the same thing she is."

Here, Rek'oj briefly paused to point at the Drall nurse, who was now gasping for air while still striving to laugh.

"I'll also snap her out of it. But, I won't ask this nicely a second time. So, what's your decision, Doc?"

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"

If Redu C'to had possessed eyebrows, they would have shot up in surprise just like the Ayrou's. For that defiant remark had not come from the Bith. It seemed to have from come out of thin air! And, as it turned out, the question was purely a rhetorical one. Because, the one who had asked it subsequently sent Rek'oj flying across the clinic's waiting room from a phantom blow to the jaw!

It was only at this point that the Hawk-Batman made himself visible.

"Shades of Nozho!" exclaimed the Bith. "Who...?"

"No time," replied the costumed crusader.

The latter then hurriedly knelt by Nurse Hedda's side. Applying a thumb-and-two-finger pinch (known in teras kasi as "the oon-emori touch") to the carotid artery of her neck. This had the immediate effect of rendering her unconscious. Whereupon, the Hawk-Batman stood back up.

"I'll get right to the point, doctor. I'm here for the same information as him."

He pointed to the equally unconscious Rek'oj.

"But, there's one difference between us," he added. "I _have_ the gun he was talking about."

The Hawk-Batman withdrew it from where he had it pinned it beneath the left-hand side of his utility belt.

"At first glance, it resembles a custom-made variant of the KYD-21 blaster. Yet, I know of no technology, in this part of the galaxy, that can allow any such variant to do... this!"

Before the Bith physician could make any attempt to dodge it, he found himself shrunken to one centimeter tall by the subsequent beam of light.

"Now, tell me where you got this... and I'll not only re-enlarge you so you can take care of your nurse. I'll then shrink the Ayrou so the two of you can 'take care' of him!"

Redu C'to wisely opted to accept the offer.

"From a spice-addicted Bimm named Arnwes Kar. He runs a duty-free 'gift shop' at the space port, and lives in an efficiency apartment on the floor above it. In exchange for enough glitterstim, to wean some of my patients off death sticks, I have to use my clinic as a front for dispensing whatever other contraband he brings me. And I sold that particular blaster, two weeks ago."

"To a bounty hunter named Gnort Gneesmacher?"

"That's the name he gave me. Although, he gave his occupation as 'master-at-arms' aboard a Zygerrian* freighter."

The Hawk-Batman snorted in bemusement. "Cute!"

Even so, he kept his word and re-enlarged the Bith before shrinking Rek'oj. Then, just prior to departing for the aforementioned gift shop, the costumed crusader turned and thanked his informant in fluent Huttese.

"Domo arigato, Dr. Reducto."

tbc

*The red-headed humanoids of Zygerria are slave traders.