On their next mission together, both Grievous and Bearsh wore masks. It had taken Bearsh two months to notch, prepare and paint the wood so that the mask fit properly and he liked it. At some point every Vagaari of high rank made his mask, but he was too young for that at the time and so there were ready-made children's masks. Now, however, when he left the ship with Grievous, the mask painted in red and gold made him so tall that he reached Grievous to the top of his tusks. The Kaleesh ran one of his four thumbs over the material, which continued upward over the Vagaari's forehead to curve backwards in a gentle arc.
"The mask looks good on you," came a compliment from the Kaleesh's stern mouth, and beneath the mask, Bearsh's mouths smiled.
It was about squeezing the owner of a Tibanna gas factory in Cloud City on Bespin. The owner, a human, apparently believed himself and his factory to be so indispensable that he could impose his conditions on the Banking Clan.
The two debt collectors stood in front of a white, perfectly round house whose windows were as round as the floor plan. There was also such a window in the front door, although it was very small and mirrored from the outside. Behind it stood the debtor, who was negotiating with the creditors' emissaries via an intercom system.
"There is no more delay," Grievous said, his voice gravelly behind his mask.
The human's eyes moved from one mask to the other. "But I don't have disposable funds at the moment. Freeing up the funds would cost me enormous effort and fees, which you from the Banking Clan would then miss out on."
As the owner spoke to Grievous, everything around them became strangely quiet. Bearsh suspected that the debtor was no longer behind the door or even on the intercom and gave Grievous a look.
"Yes, I know, he's trying some lame subterfuge now," Grievous reassured his colleague. "But he won't escape us."
They waited and took a few steps away from the house. Just moments later, they saw the debtor stick his head out of one of the round windows - from the third floor. "What's going on here?" the human cried in anticipation of bad things to come.
"Our Magna Guards are swarming to shut down production at your gas factory," Grievous explained dryly. "An outside strike, so to speak."
"The Banking Clan isn't allowed to do that!" the human protested.
Grievous nodded to Bearsh, who said, "Oh yes, absolutely."
Ultimately, it came down to the owner contacting an investment institution, which immediately liquidated a fund so that the owner could use its value to pay off his debts to the Banking Clan.
Bearsh was less pleased with the subsequent conversation with Karsh Tonith in the High Port Space Center over Muunilinst.
"Gentlemen, it is not usual for us to mask ourselves like hostage gangsters or bank robbers during our operations."
"But Grievous also wears a mask," Bearsh justified himself.
"His species needs to protect their faces from the sun and dust, so he has an exemption to wear a mask. However, here the customer complained because he felt like you were both hiding something. This is very bad for the image of the Banking Clan! If only one person wears a mask, then it is an exception, but if two people wear one at the same time, then people feel invaded."
Which they will, thought Bearsh, with or without a mask. "But that's common in our culture," he said instead.
"To attack people while being masked?" Tonith asked pointedly.
"Then in the future without a mask," Bearsh forced himself to say the words.
༺༻
It was a Rodian who had brought Marasha to Affa. She didn't like the smell of him, but she had to admit that it meant the air wasn't quite as sterile as elsewhere. Noggox' fortress on Affa was a huge hemisphere that was transparent in places. Just behind the fortress she saw a factory.
"This is Noggox' droid factory," the Rodian explained.
"He has a factory?" she wondered. "I thought Hutts were more into the entertainment business."
"Noggox is an exception," Meedo explained. "He broke away from the Hutt Council and joined the Republic. That's why there is no slavery on Affa."
"How long have you been working for him?"
The pink Rodian shrugged. "Like this for twenty years. You wouldn't last that long with Gardulla or even Jabba. These Hutts are real bullies!"
"And they practice slavery," Marasha concluded.
Meedo smiled. "And how!"
The spacecraft descended onto the nearly square landing pad. Two Trandoshans and a droid arrived to greet the new arrival. The throne room, in which the Hutt resided on a pedestal with several control panels, was less magnificent than Marasha had expected based on stories about other Hutts.
"So you are Marasha!" Noggox boomed down to her from his pedestal. "Just sing!"
She sang something in two-part way on basic. When she was finished, a few people clapped, including the tan Hutt with the aviator sunglasses on his forehead.
"Very good!" Noggox praised her. "And now in your native language!"
She did that too and now the ovation got even louder. "You will perform at the casino called Three Moons!" said the Hutt. "And you'll get something decent to wear too. And you'll also be wearing hair extensions – black and purple, which will look good on your eyes."
Meedo took Marasha to a room on the east side of the fortress, where she found two beds, a large closet, and a table with three chairs.
"Who else lives here?" she asked.
"No one at the moment, but there may be someone else if the Hutt hires another artist."
"What happened to the last one?" she wanted to know.
Meedo let a snort escape his nose. "Got married and had kids and now doesn't want to sing anymore."
Another question came to her mind. "How's the food here?"
"There is a large cantina in the fortress where there is always something to eat and drink. You can use everything for free. In return, Noggox deducts something from your salary."
Her eyes lit up. "I get paid?"
"Three hundred credits a month! Plus appearance fee!"
The next day after breakfast she was taken to a seamstress who had her studio on the next corner of the street.
"You have pretty short stubby legs!," said the seamstress as she examined her young customer. "You have to put the skirt quite high so that it's not so noticeable. Your hands are pretty big compared to the rest of your body, so we'll do best with wide, flowing sleeves. I'd be interested to know what the make-up artist thinks of your face," the yellow Twi'lek added mockingly as she took measurements of Marasha's chest, waist and hips.
Next she went to the makeup artist. She held out a jar of powder and a brush. Marasha looked uncertain.
"Have you never used something like this before?" asked the human woman.
Marasha shook her head.
"Well, then I'll show you," said the make-up artist, painting her eyelids a light purple and wiping her cheeks and cleft chin with a damp cotton pad. There was a strong smell of cleaning products and the scent coming from the white oval tickled Marasha's nose, making her sneeze.
"What are you doing?" Marasha asked, a little irritated.
"I'm getting rid of this gold stuff," the make-up artist explained. "So that the rouge stays on better later."
"What's rouge?"
"A powder of different colors depending on the species to emphasize the cheekbones more or to soften them, as the case may be."
Marasha shook her head desperately. "But these dots are completely natural."
The make-up artist lowered the make-up removal pad. "What? There is such a thing as nature? Then you probably have a rare mutation?"
"No, everyone of my species has something like that. And so far no one has ever found anything wrong with it."
"Hmmm, strange," said the make-up artist and used a make-up pad to apply creme to her young customer's cheeks and chin. Finally a matting powder covered Marasha's face.
The gold marks were gone, giving way to a uniform brown color.
"I don't want the powder!" Marasha protested. "Then you can no longer see the gold marbling."
"Oh, you like that too?"
"Yes, I like it. And so do other people!"
"Well, if you have to!" said the make-up artist flippantly and removed the powder again with far too rough wiping movements.
"The two mouths take some getting used to; I wouldn't put too much make-up on them, but you have beautiful, big eyes - like a Zeltronian - and a small, nicely curved nose", said the make-up artist graciously and painted Marasha's mouths a strong shade of pink. "That should take away your other flaws if you emphasize it enough."
Marasha's next stop that day was the hairdresser. She had never been to a hairdresser. On their ship, the women always braided each other's hair or wound it into small dreadlocks - according to the respective hair islands on their heads. Now, however, the hairdresser, a purple-colored Zeltronian, had a lot of long, black braids with purple strands tied in next to the barber's chair where Marasha was sitting. Using a crochet hook, he wove the strange braids into her natural hair, fixed them with some kind of glue, and after about half an hour, Marasha had a mat of braids that reached down to her hips.
"The spectators will like this," said the Zeltronian, who had purple eyes just like her own.
After her hair had been lengthened, Marasha went back to the seamstress to collect her new clothes. She didn't like these dresses that the seamstress had made for her. The neckline was too big, there were gaps on the hips where too much skin was visible, but the skirt was quite long, as were the sleeves, which were also very wide at the hem.
"I'm supposed to walk around like this!" asked the Vagaari, horrified when she saw the paper-thin fumbles.
"It's only for on stage. And there are security guards," the seamstress reassured her.
Styled like this, Marasha made her first appearance after just two days. The casino was packed as a new face had been announced.
"Let me introduce … Marasha!", the emcee, a pink-haired Theelin with small horns on his temples, opened the show.
She walked onto the stage, with two Twi'lek dancers behind her swaying to the beat of the music. She had known the songs on Basic by heart for years because they were so well known, so her first evening's program was quickly completed. She decided to sit down with the Bith musicians to rehearse songs in their own language.
"Who wants to hear that if no one understands it?" said one of the yellow sobriquetists to Marasha.
The Bithband drummer waved his hand. "A lot of people are really into exotic things." His yellow hand pointed to Marasha. "Look what she looks like. She could also grunt like a Gamorrean and people would find it exciting and great."
His fellow musician gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Now you're exaggerating."
"Besides, most people don't listen to the songs anyway," said the drummer. "And if they don't understand the text, they can make up their own minds. Some people even find it annoying to pay attention to the lyrics when listening to music, a Baragwin once told me."
"We'll just try one or two songs," suggested Marasha. "I will feel comfortable singing. And people feel that."
The drummer laughed. "I am looking forward to it."
It took about two months before the two songs were ready for performance. Marasha's Vagaari songs were very well received and over time she even performed two thirds of a performance with them.
༺༻
It's been half a year since Bearsh started working for the Banking Clan. In contrast to the other inspectors, who had a home of their own, he only had a mailbox in the Banking Clan branch of the High Port Space Center above Muunilinst, from where he regularly picked up his mail. Otherwise, he lived on the Banking Clan's courier ship, which Karsh Hill had entrusted to him for constant use after his successful mission on Naboo. Bearsh now knew all the commands that a basic battle droid could understand and follow. From time to time he was assigned to joint missions with Grievous, where he subordinated himself to the Kaleesh. Bearsh liked these missions the most, even if they were boring in themselves, as they were completed quickly and without resistance. But he always had an interesting topic of conversation with the other inspector.
One day, his superior Karsh Tonith summoned him to the High Port Space Center to instruct him on the new mission. With him, five other inspectors from the Banking Clan were waiting for new assignments to be carried out, including Grievous. The Muun made Bearsh wait until the end, then the Muun secretary waved him into the room.
"Bearsh, your new mission will take you to Frunchetta. The agricultural entrepreneur Peevy Hodgy has not paid off the loan we gave him to buy new machinery for six months."
Bearsh suppressed a wince when he heard the planet name. Farmers weren't necessarily a challenge for him, but the location was even more so. Tonith's expression became urgent.
"A five-person team from the Banking Clan that we sent to Frunchetta two weeks ago has not returned from there and Hodgy has not been reachable since then. The Banking Clan must investigate. You will begin preparing for the establishment of compulsory administration by forcing them to sign the relevant contracts. To avoid any risk this time, you will travel there with at least two battalions of Magna Guards, as Hodgy may offer armed resistance."
"I'm at your service," Bearsh replied, only to be dismissed from the meeting.
He rushed out of the building to intercept Grievous. He reached the older inspector just as he was about to board his Banking Clan courier ship.
"What's up, Bearsh?" Grievous asked, reading the alarm in the smaller colleague's purple eyes.
"Can we swap?" Bearsh asked, still breathless.
"Where should you go?"
"To Frunchetta, because of Peevy Hodgy, an agricultural entrepreneur. He is armed and a five-man team from the Banking Clan has already disappeared there."
Grievous smiled behind his mask. "Are you a little scared? How many Magna Guards are you going to take with you?"
"Three dozen, but that's not the point."
Grievous raised his upper jaw with his tusks. "What's so bad about that? You will provoke a shootout if he really wants to, subdue him and make him sign. We've already chewed through all of that."
Bearsh slumped his shoulders. "But I can't go there."
"Why not?"
"Let's discuss this in the ship."
Grievous went with him into the briefing room and chased the Magna Guards there into the hold.
"So?" said the Kaleesh, placing a brown-scaled hand on the table.
"Well, a few of my people had done something pretty bad there years ago and if the Banking Clan found out, that would be the end of my job here."
Grievous' amber eyes narrowed slightly. "I think there are none of your people left besides you and your sweetheart."
Bearsh's lavender eyes slipped into another time. "They still existed back then. And on Frunchetta we'll be remembered. That's why I can't show up there, even though I'd love to take down this Peevy if he's as martial as Tonith claims."
"What exactly did your people do back then on Frunchetta so that the whole planet would know about it years later?" Grievous wanted to know.
The Vagaari narrowed his eyes. "You don't really want to know."
"Spit it out or I'll change my mind!"
Bearsh let out a whistle of cautious relief. "We attacked them, stole things."
Grievous raised his eyebrows. "Anywhere on Frunchetta?"
"In some places, yes."
Grievous' mouth turned bitter. "So the Frunchies wouldn't have had to use any great powers of persuasion to convince the Jedi to intervene."
Bearsh shrugged. "Maybe they did, but we were long gone by then."
Grievous's mouth twisted. "Well, have fun on Nar Shaddaa then!"
The Kaleesh gave him the data, Bearsh gave him the Frunchetta data and then they set off on their swapped missions.
The client Bearsh had to work with this time was right up his alley. It was an actor known to be violent who was blackmailed by the Black Sun and therefore had no credit left to pay off his debts to the Banking Clan. Bearsh rode a speeder bike through the shabby streets of the Hutt moon and eventually came to a yellow, cube-shaped mansion. Bearsh peered through the iron bars of the courtyard gate and found that the garden surrounding the villa looked surprisingly neat and clean compared to the rest of the moon. Bearsh positioned the Magna Guards in front of the wall and rang the bell twice. After no one opened the door to him or even spoke to him, he broke open the courtyard gate and had the villa surrounded from within the wall.
Bearsh knocked on the door insistently after realizing there was no doorbell. The door opened a crack and Bearsh looked past the person opening it into a hallway crammed with all sorts of objects that he identified as works of art.
"What do you want?" the debtor, a Theelin, asked the man, who was a head shorter than him, from above.
"I wanted to take a look at your villa, just in case there was something here that the Banking Clan would be interested in as collateral."
Shots rang out from the roof and were returned several times from below.
"There is only one thing here for vultures like you," said the Theelin contemptuously. "A few blaster bolts and death."
"The question is for whom," replied Bearsh, trusting that the Magna Guards would shoot cleanly.
From the sounds of it, the Magna Guards were engaged in a battle with at least two snipers, whom the Theelin must have placed on the roof for cases like this. It took two minutes before one of the two snipers fell down from the roof. Bearsh recognized a human. The armed Vagaari shoved the Theelin aside and pushed his way inside through the open front door. This meant he was able to get to safety from the many lines of fire in front of the house.
"Hey, you can't just walk in here without permission."
Bearsh let the debtor talk, especially since the Theelin made no move to attack him, but merely gestured desperately with his arms and lamented. Meanwhile, the young inspector calmly walked through the hallway into the living room. There he saw a glass standing on a low side table, filled with a red liquid. The smell of wine permeated the entire room, just as the air here was quite thick with smell. Bearsh liked that. He stepped closer and looked around as the Theelin glanced around nervously.
Through the living room window, Bearsh could see a second body falling from the roof, a Twi'lek this time.
"Get out of here! You won't come back until my lawyer is there!" the Theelin shouted.
He tried to drag the Vagaari outside by his arm. Bearsh ducked down, dragging the Theelin, who was clinging to him, with him. He gave Bearsh a swing in the chin as he fell down - and that was exactly what he had been waiting for. A Magna Guard came through the door. He held a comlink with recording function in his hand, which he held out to his master. In his other mechanical claw, he held an activated electric baton with purple-glowing ends - as purple as Bearsh's eyes - all the more reason to like these tin guys.
"Thanks, Zosh," Bearsh said to his droid.
One purple-hot end of the electric baton crackled close to the Theelin's black eye. "Stop! You can't! … This is the Hutt space here. You must ask the Hutt Council first!"
"I know that – just like I know that you just physically attacked and threatened an inspector. The Banking Clan doesn't like to see something like that at all," Bearsh replied coldly. "And now you raise your hands up and show me what's here."
After Bearsh completed the mission, he returned to his ship with nine of the twelve Magna Guards he had taken with him. With the commission he would collect from the Banking Clan, it would not be a financial problem to replenish his force on Geonosis with replacement guards.
༺༻
Grievous had taken three dozen Magna Guards with him when he traveled to Frunchetta, as recommended by Tonith. The planet was mainly covered by fields, with scattered houses of large and middle farmers standing between them. Farmland had even been reclaimed from the sea, evidenced by high dikes that the Kaleesh could clearly see from his spaceship. Thus, over the last few centuries, the world of Frunchetta had developed into an exporter of agricultural products, supplying many neighboring systems. The Kaleesh landed and disembarked with his Magna Guards. He let his yellow eyes roam over the fields. Some had been harvested, some still had the grain or plant of the season on them. But there hung a desolation over the landscape that was familiar to him.
A knot formed in his stomach. The lump grew thicker as he approached the debtor's rather large property. It was freshly whitewashed in places, as if someone had removed traces. Grievous noted this detail and decided to remember it for later questioning of Peevy Hodgy.
He had the house surrounded without any resistance. His Magna Guards searched the house, but only found unarmed civilians who were busy cleaning up or processing products that might, as Grievous estimated, be enough for these people to sustain themselves. He also found that for a farm of this size, there were very few people employed here - too few to effectively manage such a large house and the extensive land surrounding it. He had a feeling that his mission here was already lost before it even began.
The Kaleesh confronted a Frunchie. "Where's Peevy Hodgy?"
The small, green woman didn't answer, just looked at Grievous in fear. "But we have nothing left. The others have already taken everything we had."
"Which others?" asked Grievous.
The woman shook her head and the inspector had an idea. "I'm here because I need to know everything about these others, you know? I want to help you."
"I think Mr. Hodgy knows something about them," the woman said. "He's in the watchtower."
Grievous had already seen the tower when they arrived and correctly guessed that it could be accessed from the middle of the building. It was a narrow, wrought iron spiral staircase that led up from a fairly small, nondescript room inside the house. When the Kaleesh opened the door at the top of the stairs, the master of the house stood at the window and looked at the Kaleesh with calm, green eyes.
"Peevy Hodgy, I suppose," Grievous said to the green man with pointed ears, two heads shorter than him.
He nodded and looked at the green mark on Grievous' chest. "I know what you want."
"So you were hiding up here. What happened to the Banking Clan team that came here two weeks ago?"
"I don't know of any other team from the Banking Clan."
"It was a Muun and four droids. The Banking Clan doesn't take it lightly when someone takes one of their teams out of action."
Peevy shook his head. Grievous had a feeling that the native really didn't know what Grievous was talking about. The Kaleesh found this alarming.
"How about paying off the debt, Peevy?"
The little man stared into the recesses of Grievous' Mumuu mask, revealing his amber eyes. "There is nothing left here that you and your Banking Clan can seize."
"Let's see about that," Grievous replied suspiciously.
They left the tower and went into the warehouses. They were empty. The house itself also looked as if someone had been here recently and had even taken furniture, which was indicated by the lighter spots on the walls in a naturally darker color around.
"They took everything, not just from me," Peevy told the inspector.
"Who took all this?"
"The Vagaari," the Frunchettan-sai replied in a low voice.
"Vagaari?" Grievous repeated.
"They came here six years ago. At the time I thought it was a one-time thing. So I rebuilt everything, got the loan from the Banking Clan, and bought new sowing and harvesting machines. And two weeks ago they came back."
"Who are the Vagaari?" the inspector wanted to know.
"They came with a huge force six years ago." Peevy's voice dropped to a whisper. "I woke up and it was very dark. At first I thought it was a solar eclipse like two years ago. But then when I looked out the window I saw their fleet, so numerous that it darkened the sky. Well, ordinary people like us are not informed about such a massive attack - especially not out here."
"A lot of farms look deserted," Grievous said.
"The Vagaari took many people from here as slaves. They had to help stow the loot before driving them into their shuttles with the blaster barrel behind them as well. We don't know where our people are now," Peevy also provided an explanation for the inspector's observation.
"Approximately how many attackers were there?" Grievous wanted to know.
Peevy thought for a moment. "Back then six years ago, probably several million, if I estimated correctly. Two weeks ago it was maybe…" he poked his right ear with his index finger to jog his memory, "… around two hundred thousand?"
"Then at least the sky wasn't so dark anymore," said Grievous. "What do you mean? What could be their next destination?"
Peevy pulled down the right corner of his mouth. "They are probably still enjoying and digesting the fruits of their raid. And then these Vagaari will move like wandering hayhoppers to the nearest peaceful, poorly armed world to eat it bare and slaughter everything in their path."
Grievous got a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach again. "What do these Vagaari look like?"
"They are about the same size as us, so they are rather small compared to other species in the galaxy. They have brown skin, purple eyes, and short, curly black hair that grows like islands on their heads."
The inspector considered. There were several species in the galaxy that had such characteristics, but in this combination and then as robber barons...?
"But the most striking feature is their two mouths – one on the right and one on the left above their cleaved chin," Peevy finished his description.
Grievous felt as if he had been punched in the stomach. He remembered Bearsh's belittling words about the actions of his fellow species on Frunchetta before starting this mission. We raided them... stole things... In some places, yes. Until now, Grievous had assumed that this was some sort of gang operation involving perhaps thirty people that Bearsh had nothing to do with and was therefore innocent of. Now, however, it turned out that all of Bearsh's people - or at least a large part of them - had devastated an entire planet.
Grievous briefly scratched his long, pointed ear. "You know what, Mr. Hodgy, I advise you to get out of here. I haven't seen you here and I never want to see you again. Go where no one can find you. Settle down if possible, with a new identity. Start a new life."
"Won't you get in trouble if you let me go like this?" wondered the green native.
"I've already had enough trouble," Grievous grumbled, turning on his heel and leaving the stricken Frunchetta.
༺༻
Bearsh went to Grievous' ship to complete the handover of the results of the swapped missions before they had to present their results to Karsh Tonith in the Banking Clan building at the High Port Orbital Station.
"How was it on Nar Shaddaa?" asked Grievous.
The Vagaari smiled with both mouths. "He was so stupid. Allowed himself to be provoked, wanted to push me out of the house, but good Bearsh had proof of his violence, blackmailed him a bit with it, looked at the house with him and now the Theelin is a few credits poorer and the Banking Clan became a little richer once more."
"Well, it's always good to have witnesses to violent attacks," Grievous murmured absently.
"And he also offered me wine," Bearsh continued. "Our fire drink back then tasted much better. I don't understand why Tonith likes wine so much that he drinks it with every meal. Maybe it depends on the species."
"Well, then you just drink your fire potion again," Grievous replied condescendingly.
"I told you my people no longer exist," Bearsh reminded him. "The art of making this fire drink also died. It requires special fermentation over selected herbs. That's all I know about it."
Grievous's gaze became lurking. "But you know other things."
Bearsh's voice became forceful. "What's up? How did it go on Frunchetta?"
"I didn't collect any debts. Peevy is out of the woods."
Bearsh's lavender eyes widened. "What? Didn't you go after him?"
Grievous shook his head, his black hair pulled back. "I couldn't locate him. Neither him nor our missing team from the Banking Clan."
Without a word, the Kaleesh handed the Vagaari the data cards in which he had saved his report. Bearsh inserted it into his datapad and scanned the brief lines that officially announced his, Bearsh's, failure. "And should I present this to Tonith?" he asked, dumbfounded.
Grievous shrugged. "You wanted this exchange," he said laconically.
Bearsh's stomach sank at the other inspector's words. Like this he didn't know Grievous. "Well, at least we didn't have any more casualties," he said between his teeth. "Thanks anyway."
Bearsh entered Karsh Tonith's office with bad anticipation.
"So you have no idea where Peevy is and what happened to our team?" the Muun asked the Vagaari, after reading the report.
"He wasn't in the house, nor did anyone know where he or the team was," Bearsh replied thickly. "It seems to me that the team never even got to Frunchetta."
"You mean they've been ambushed before?"
Bearsh nodded curtly.
"What does this world look like in general?" the Muun wanted to know.
"They cultivate their fields and the dikes hold," replied Bearsh. "Winter is pretty mild."
Tonith smiled thinly. "After all, you have been really on this world," he stated.
Of course I was, even if it was six years ago, Bearsh thought and said: "You didn't think...?"
"One has to take everything into account," the tall Muun cut him off. "But such failure can happen to anyone, even to someone like you. So don't take it to heart."
"Thanks."
Tonith smiled a little more. "By the way, my brother-in-law has the same name as you. And he also has purple eyes. Quite an interesting coincidence, isn't it?"
"Yes Sir, indeed."
"Bearsh, how about doing a little private errand for me?"
Bearsh listened. "A private assignment?"
"It's about planting a listening device in the office of the head of the treasury branch of the Banking Clan without him noticing."
Bearsh's eyes widened. "I would have to go down to your home planet."
Tonith nodded. "The device is supposed to record everything that Tors Hill, the current head of the treasury branch, says for about a month."
"So I'll have to go down to Muunilinst twice," concluded Bearsh.
"No, you're going to stay there for two months so you don't stand out as a newbie when you do the job."
"Applying and removing bugs."
Tonith smiled. "Officially change the beverage containers in the dispensing machines. It would be a shame if someone else did that every now and then and then discovered the bug purely by chance. For these two months you will be assigned accommodation under a staircase on the lowest floor of a parking garage. That should be enough considering your size."
Less than two days later everything was prepared. Bearsh had disguised himself as a member of a company that refilled the drink dispensers in various offices on the Muun home planet. Bearsh didn't like the blue uniform, but he looked with interest at the surroundings on Muunilinst, the towering buildings, the leisurely strolling Muuns, the displays in the shops that offered everything the galaxy had to offer. By this time, Bearsh had already learned that the Muuns had several fully automated Golan III battle stations to keep unwanted intruders away from their tranquil paradise.
As Bearsh expected, Tors Hill, chairman of the treasury branch of the Banking Clan, did not care about the little offworlder who provided a service here on Muunilinst like so many offworlders who were imported here to assist the Muuns in those menial tasks which this species considered beneath their dignity to be dealt by themselves. So on the first day of his covert operation, Bearsh calmly changed the fluid container in the beverage dispenser in Tors Hill's office under the guidance of a Sullustan. After the third such exchange in other offices in the building, Bearsh knew what to do and the Sullustan left him alone.
After Bearsh completed his first day shift as a drink dispenser refiller, he went to the parking garage to spend the night in the cubicle that Tonith had assigned him. It was the tenth floor below ground where the stairs ended, which most parking garage visitors only used when the repulsor lifts were out of service. This lowest stair segment had been covered with wooden planks, creating a chamber that tapered to the floor on the side where the stairs descended, while the jagged stair ceiling at the higher end was almost two standard meters high. There was an old mattress, a light bulb and a small table and only one chair, otherwise Bearsh only had the permaconcrete floor down there and the stairs of the same material above him. The most beautiful thing for Bearsh about this barren and cramped place, however, was the smell that the fuel from the gliders taking off and landing spread throughout the entire parking garage beyond Bearsh's hut.
After a standard week of settling into the official job, on the appointed day, Bearsh discreetly placed the bug Tonith had given him in the gap between the drink container and the filler neck. He was just about to push the drink container back and in front of the listening device when the door opened and a Muun woman came in to look at Bearsh disparagingly. The Vagaari sweated from every pore and stood in front of the water dispenser so that the woman couldn't see what he was doing.
"Are you finally finished?" the woman asked impatiently. "Your predecessor was always much faster."
"I'll get it soon, ma'am, it's a bit stuck today."
"Some foreign species don't know technology well at all", the Muunwoman hissed. "Your predecessor had never had any problems with the device and his predecessor…"
Bearsh let the woman talk. She should go on with her tirade as long as she didn't notice what he was doing.
When Bearsh removed the bug from the device just as discreetly after the month prescribed by his boss, there was no one in the office to disturb him. But even if that had happened, Bearsh had already become much more skilled and, above all, faster at changing the drink containers than anyone could have made him sweat.
He remained on Muunilinst for the remainder of the agreed two months, then flew one of the numerous shuttles from the planet Muunilinst back to the High Port Orbital Station to wait on his courier ship for further instructions from his boss. Tonith let Bearsh stew for a day, then called him into his office.
"Your mission was a complete success, Bearsh. You just earned three thousand extra credits," said the Muun, placing the rectangular discs on the table.
"Thank you sir, it was a pleasure," Bearsh replied in a spread-eagled basic.
"Well then, Bearsh. Then enjoy your well-deserved vacation. And don't spend the credits too quickly!" Tonith liked to joke with a raised long index finger.
Both of his mouths twisted into a smile. "I'll keep an eye on it, sir."
After Bearsh was back on his courier ship, he began to plan a trip that he had wanted to take for a long time and that he could finally afford with the relatively easy money he had earned from the private mission for Tonith. When Bearsh went to sleep that night, he missed the intense smell of fuel that he had inhaled with pleasure for two months down in the parking garage on the Muun planet. And yet he knew that it had smelled much nicer before and elsewhere.
Author's Note: Noggox the Hutt is a character from the comic "Strange Allies", the Star Wars - The Clone Wars series by DarkHorse, Volume 7 (2011) and in the special issue "Opress Unleashed" for the Free Comic Book Day on May 7th in 2011, where Savage Opress is introduced as a new character. The pink Rodian also appears there, but without the name Meedo, which I have him have given.