Sunrise And Neon

[Fondo]

<NAR SHADDAA>

It was too early.

With a grunt, Fondo awoke to a burning cocktail of morning sunlight and neon strips- his freighter smelled of death. The cloying smell of deathsticks and cheap Corellian drinks filled the sticky box with a near-toxic atmosphere; every centimeter of the duraplast interior was sticky to the touch. Striking out with one foot, he cracked open an exit door, the folds of his fur rising and falling as he took in desperate breaths. The cityscape that awaited him was just as disgusting, a hundred-thousand miles of corruption and death.

To him, it all seemed rather beautiful.

Snaking trails of dark smoke filtered off into the heavy speeder traffic above as he lit a cigarra, hunched over on the exit ramp of whatever stolen craft he'd driven here. Wheezing breaths punctuated each release of the blackness, cold eyes of deep purple staring blankly into the distance.

That was when he heard the sound- a quiet, thumping sound, looming from behind.

Slowly and carefully he rose to his feet, unholstering an ugly blaster of Coruscanti make. It was coming from the cargo hold of his ship. Every step he took towards it seemed to make it grow louder, the thumps devolving into wild crashing. It all happened in slow-motion- the instant he opened the door, he was confronted with the impossibly powerful stench of death and rot, dark blood pooling about his feet; there was a dying Ithorian inside his cargo hold.

Now he remembered.

"You very stupid, friend."

The Ithorian didn't offer a response- he knew it was over, cheap bounty-hunting scum he was.

"Next time, kill Fondo while he no see you, yes?"

The Ithorian didn't make an effort to look as Fondo shot him.


Fondo didn't make an effort to shift the body, responding in kind- he simply returned to his rest on the exit ramp, poised far above the slums below.


If they wanted to catch him, more effort was required.


[member="Zatten Black"]

 

[Zatten Black]

Oh, Nar Shaddaa. It was like a home away from home for me. For nearly ten years I'd been coming to this planet to enjoy the good food and strong booze at the Gilded Hutt, my absolute favorite restaurant in the galaxy. But today, I was doing serious business. A certain criminal was havoc in the slums of the planet, and also killing off some of my underworld contacts. That pissed me off a bit.

So, this man was now a target for me. I was going to light a fire under his ass, and then catch him when he came out of hiding. But where was he hiding, in the underworld of this city? He could be....

I heard a blast, and the sound of a body falling to the ground. Was I really that lucky, that my prey was right behind me? I sure hoped so. I dew Bloodtooth, and poked at the door that seemed to lead to where I'd heard the blast from.

"Mister [member='Fondo']... I know you're here."

 

[Fondo]

"Someone say my name!?"

The red lights of his blaster surrounded his tusked face in a hellish glow as he held it close, carefully backing up the exit ramp of his ship.

"Come, friend!" Wet spittle flew from his mouth, catching in the straggly lengths of his hair; slowly but surely he edged for the cockpit of his ship.
"We talk, yes?" Now he unhooked a detonator from his belt. "Come in, friend!" With a whisk it span through the air, rolling against the door.

"Fondo love visitors!" He gave the Aqualish equivalent to a grin and stepped for the cockpit, the detonator beeping like a screaming Dewback.

"Keep coming! We talk civil, yes!"

[member="Zatten Black"]