Star Wars_ Tales From the Mos Eisley Cantina - Kevin J. Anderson [105]
But the Jawa was firm. “No. I must have the battle talisman today.” Het Nkik’s voice grew agitated as he spoke. “I will pay the rest in the morning, but I cannot wait until tomorrow.” He stopped, as if searching for a way to convince Reegesk of his serious intentions. At last he said, “If you wait until morning, I will let you have the use of this blaster.”
Reegesk could feel his eyes light with intensity at the very thought of having such a fine weapon.
Het Nkik’s eyes burned into Reegesk’s as he nodded to the weapon he held beneath the table. “Yes, I will let you hold it and use it. I am not afraid to arm a Ranat. Let me leave with the talisman today, and you will have what you need by morning.”
Unable to pull away from the fervor of the Jawa’s glowing gaze, Reegesk reached out one paw to touch the weapon. Did he dare take a risk on the honor of this Jawa? Always pay close attention during a trade, he reminded himself. Finally, he came to a decision.
At that moment, a commotion broke out across the cantina from them. Light and sparks filled the air, along with the sharp smell of singed flesh. When the air finally cleared, Reegesk was able to make out the form of Greedo the bounty hunter slumped over an otherwise deserted table.
Dead? Yes, definitely dead. This was indeed a lucky day for Reegesk. He felt a surge of excitement and his whiskers quivered with glee. “Yes. I accept the trade,” he said to the Jawa, who was still staring at the scene across the room. “Keep the talisman for now. Bring me the price we agreed on by morning.”
Het Nkik suddenly turned his attention back to Reegesk. Without a word, he pulled the blaster away from Reegesk’s paw and stalked away.
“Both traders received the better bargain this day,” Reegesk called after Het Nkik, but the Jawa did not seem to hear him.
Reegesk smiled as he watched Het Nkik walk with such confidence toward the entrance of the cantina. He was pleased to have made such a fair deal. The Jawa threw challenging glances around the room as he left with the DL-44 concealed beneath his cloak, one hand fingering the precious battle talisman.
Reegesk emptied the remaining brew from his cup and stood to leave, inhaling deeply. The smell of the scorched Rodian bounty hunter still hung in the air. Very satisfactory, he thought with a contented sigh.
Moments later, he stepped back out of the cantina into the parched streets of Mos Eisley. Reegesk patted the pocket inside his cloak that held the power pack he had slipped from Het Nkik’s blaster. They had both gotten the trade they wanted today. He had paid very close attention.
And now Reegesk had the perfect power supply for the Ranat tribe’s new ’vaporator.
When the Desert Wind
Turns:
The Stormtrooper’s Tale
by Doug Beason
It took Davin Felth all of thirty seconds on the military training planet Carida to decide that serving in the Emperor’s armed forces was not as romantic as he had thought.
Davin hoisted his deep blue duffel bag containing his worldly possessions onto his back and queued up with the rest of the hundred and twenty other recruits. They filled the Gamma-class shuttle’s narrow steel corridor. Davin was nearly overwhelmed by the diverse cut of clothes, colors, and unusual smells that wafted from the youths. Nervous chatter ran up and down the line of eighteen-year-olds, most of whom were away from home for the very first time. A blast of noise reverberated through the shuttle and the door to the outside sighed open.
Fresh air tumbled in, untouched by atmospheric scrubbers present on the ship; unfiltered light splashed against the gleaming deck, reflecting down the hallway, and for a glorious thirty seconds it seemed that all the hype and rumors about Carida, the planet used by the Emperor’s own guard as a training base for his military, were suddenly magnified. This must be the most exciting place for a ship of eager eighteen-year-olds to begin