Star Wars_ MedStar 02_ Jedi Healer - Michael Reaves [57]
When he’d been a youngling, he’d learned from a favorite aunt a trader’s story: if you have the only case of a rare, vintage rimble-wine worth a thousand credits a bottle, and you want to maximize your profit, drink all but one of them, and put the last bottle in a secure vault. There were many rich people who would pay a fortune for something that was unique, but who wouldn’t bother if there were a dozen, or even fewer, just like it in the whole galaxy. The single bottle would be worth more than the case.
Bota, because of its properties, was already one of the most valuable of drugs. If the possibility of obtaining fresh supplies was gone, what was left would appreciate in value faster than a ship going lightspeed. A rich and seriously ill person would pay a lot to stave off death. How many credits you had didn’t mean anything when they stuck your corpse in the recycler.
Kaird considered his options: he could steal a large amount of the bota and try to smuggle it offworld on a military or commercial vessel…
No. Too risky. Too many elements he could not control.
He could contact Black Sun—assuming he could get his communicator working. He had been unable to make a connection the last few days, and while that might change, it was also a risk. Once the mutation became known, the military would triple the guards on it, and that would make things worse.
Taking it by force would be impossible, of course. Black Sun was a formidable criminal empire, but its ways were those of the poisoned chalice and the hidden dagger, not the blaster and the lightsaber. All of Black Sun’s firepower couldn’t match even that of the Republic’s clone army on Drongar alone.
Kaird reached his kiosk, sealed the entrance, and gratefully stripped off the stifling disguise. He was still reviewing options. He had his agents in place, so the theft itself was doable. But for the escape and transport, he needed a ship—one that was fast enough to outrun pursuit if they discovered the theft before he had enough of a lead.
He’d have to steal one, along with the security codes that would allow it to escape.
His vigo would be unhappy about the situation, Kaird knew. But he also knew that fifty kilograms of still-potent and ever-more-valuable bota would go a long way toward calming him.
He exhaled in relief. Yes. Now that he had a general plan, the specifics would be easier. He could make it happen. People who stood in the path of Kaird of the Nediji never stayed there for long.
He would contact the Falleen and the Umbaran and set up the theft. Then he would find a suitable ship and set that operation in motion as well.
It felt good to be doing something more active after just standing around as one of The Silent for so long. Kaird was always better in motion than when he was still.
When Den awoke, his head was—not to any great surprise—throbbing like a Benwabulan gong. He’d completely forgotten to take a dose of hangover-stop before he fell asleep. Seemed he was forgetting a lot of things lately. Next thing you knew, he’d be losing his sense of direction—
“Good morn,” came a bright female voice.
Den rubbed sleep from his eyes and saw Eyar Marath, standing in his ’fresher, drying off with a towel.
Good morn, indeed…
“Your sonic shower is broken,” she said, smiling at him. “I had to use the water spray. Might take a little while for the heater to warm it up again, if you want to use it.”
Den smiled. So it hadn’t been a dream, after all.
Eyar came back into the main room of the kiosk and sat on the edge of the bed. “I really enjoyed being with you, Den-la,” she said, adding the familiar-suffix to his name.
“Yes, indeed,” he managed, sitting up to watch her. “Me, too.”
“You have wives?” she asked.
“Never had time to get any,” he said, waving one hand as if to encompass the war, his job, everything. “What about you? Husbands?”
“No. I’m still probably a year away from Ready.”
They both smiled as she pulled on her boots.