Spire, the luxurious city of Anthan Prime, floated amidst the blue swelling clouds of the gas planet's atmosphere. It seemed to skip off the top of the slowly undulating mist like a stone on heavy waves. The floating city was a respite for the wealthiest people in the galaxy and home for the even wealthier.
Terrah's red Firespray materialized suddenly from the void of hyperspace and then approached Spire. However, it did not fly to the top disc, where the resort community frequented. Rather, Terrah flew Raider to the underside of the great disc, where many armed structures stretched down into the clouds like the tentacles of a Hydroid Medusa. These were the boroughs of the servant class of Spire; but more than that, it was the borough of the pirate guild as well. Wherever the greedy wealthy frequent, the greedy poor follow; and so in the shadow of the luxurious resort hid the guilds and factions of those that would steal from those above.
The boroughs were cramped living quarters stacked on top of each other around the circumference of the each tentacle structure and were accessed only by narrow double lifts that almost never rested. Shopkeepers ran their small businesses out of their own living quarters. Occasionally, some of the quarters would have a narrow metal-wired deck if it did not interfere with the lifts. These were generally owned by the more powerful of the underclasses, like the heads of the guilds.
Cotrel, the Chagrian pirate, was one of those that resided in a porched suite. His place of business was situated at the top of one of the tentacles, and he controlled the entire level. One lift was allowed to rise to that level and the narrow porch circled the full circumference of the interior. All the doors were welded shut, except for one, and that was guarded by two sharp-toothed male Twi'leks. Inside, the walls of the neighboring quarters had been cut to make doors and connect the circle of rooms. In the furthest room from the door, the blue-faced, black-horned Chagrian sat at a table. His hands were folded onto each other and his chin rested between his draping head tentacles that sprawled on his shoulders. He stared at a small Sullustan. Two of Cotrel's guards stood by his side, a red-eyed Duros on his left and a shark-like Karkaradon on his right.
"I am sorry, that you have suffered, Pug," Cotrel spoke with silver-tongued subtlety.
The wrinkled Sullustan was angry but fearful. He gripped the desk as if he was going to stand, but he restrained himself. "You are sorry?" Pug asked rhetorically but then softened his voice. "Some might think it was your men that wrecked my shop."
The Chagrian wore the mask of shock. "My men?" He looked at the Duros and Karkaradon to each side. They nodded to their boss as if they knew nothing of what Pug was talking about. "Certainly not. Unless my men are liars. You would not be accusing them of that. I know you wouldn't be. That would be absurd." Cotrel let out a low chuckle as fake as the fool's Mythra. "However, I can help you."
Pug swatted at a midge on his neck.
Cotrell continued. "This may have been avoided if you had paid for our protection earlier."
"Protection?" Pug asked. "Is that what you call it?" He slapped at another midge.
The Duros swatted at one of the biting insects as well.
The Karkarodon started waving away the insects. "There has to be a nest for these things somewhere, Boss," he replied.
"They aren't biting me, just deal with it," Cotrell snapped.
The Karkaradon slapped and killed one on the back of his neck.
"And stop the swatting, we've got business here, " Cotrell said bluntly. He looked to re-engage the Sullustan, but Pug's eyes were dilated and blank.
"Pug?" Cotrell asked. The Sullustan's head wobbled then he fell forward, hitting his face on the table.
"Boss," the Karkarodon said.
"Yeah, this one here's high as a Loth-Hawk. Get him out of here," Cotrel ordered.
"Uh, Boss," the Karkarodon said again.
"What!"
Cotrel's lackey held out his hand for the Devaronian to look at. In his gray scaly hand, there was a midge. Cotrel leaned in and squinted his eyes. It was not an insect, but a small droid with a needled abdomen, miniature droid legs, and wings. Cotrel's eyes opened wide at the realization but before he could bark out any orders, the Duros and Karkarodon dropped hard to the ground with a couple of thuds.
Cotrel stood to his feet to get out of the room, but Terrah's red form stood in the doorway. The remaining midge droids flew back to her and inserted into a small compartment on her left forearm armor. Behind her, Cotrel could see other fallen men of his.
Terrah held a DX-2 disruptor pistol pointed at his chest.
"Sit down, Cotrel," Terrah ordered.
The Chagrian slowly lowered himself to his chair. "So, you've come here to kill off the guild, Red Sun."
Terrah kept the pistol focused and steady. "No. Everyone's having a nap. I'm not here to kill anyone." Her face was hidden behind the vague helmet, making it impossible for Cotrel to read her, but he could read the point of a pistol well enough. "You're a good client, and killing you wouldn't be good business. But I will reconsider if your hands don't stay on the table." She pulled out her second pistol and aimed it as well.
Cotrel, who was slowly lowering his hands under the table, quickly placed them back on top.
"Then what are you here for?" Cotrel questioned.
"Information," Terrah said, and put one of her pistols back in her right hip holster. She removed a chip from her belt and threw it on the table. "Five thousand. No hard feelings about your crew."
Cotrel's yellow teeth showed with his smile. A few teeth were missing and replaced with sharpened bone fragments. "You do know how to keep your clients happy, don't you? What do you want to know?" He fondled a jeweled piercing on his horned tentacle.
"Three months ago, who was patrolling this sector?"
"Ah, you want me to give up my members? That I can't do . . . Not for free anyway."
"I need to know who he was and where he's patrolling now?" Terrah said. "How much?"
"If you were anyone else, I'd suspect you were going to the Third Republic to snitch, but not Red Sun. I'll consider giving you the information . . . for a price of course, cause you're one of my favorites," Cotrel said with careful forethought and a mocking smile. "In fact, I'll give you a deal on it. But just for you. Twenty thousand."
"Deal." Four more credit chips were thrown on the table.
Cotrel's blue eyebrows raised. "Huh, must be some bounty you're after. I'll have to ask for more next time."
"Who and where?" Terrah asked as she leaned over the table.
"Lucky for you this pirate has been a problem for me, lately. He's been overstepping his bounds within the guild and could use a little humility," Cotrel laughed to himself. "It's Sleenwai, and he's in Wild Space, now. He generally raids, then regroups in Wild Space. You know, preparing to dump his plunder on the black market in a month or so."
The answer satisfied Terrah and having obtained what she came for, nodded her head and stepped back toward the door. "Pleasure doing business with you, as always." She offered a slight bow and holstered her weapon. "Hope your negotiations with the Sullistan go well. Everyone will be up in a few minutes."
"Sun," Cotrell called out before she stepped out the door. "What are you after?"
"Work," was all she replied as she slipped out.