"You sure they just don't want Prince Xizor and Black Sun mad at them?" Maranne asked nastily.
"You have to pick your fights carefully, Maranne," Riij sighed. "Personally, I think we've already bit off more than we can swallow."
"I suppose you're right," Maranne muttered. "Fine. Let's give Plan B a try."
They had reached the door now, sliding their way through the middle of an incoming group of Duros and heading out into the muggy night air. The Hopskip' s dilapidated landspeeder was parked in the small lot to the left
"Excuse me?" a hesitant voice called.
Riij turned, his hand dropping automatically to the butt of his blaster. A heavyset man had emerged from the cantina a handful of steps behind them, their jebwa flower clutched in a meaty hand. "Yes?"
"You forgot your flower," the man said, lobbing it through the air toward him. Automatically, Riij reached up to catch it
And suddenly there was a small blaster in the heavy man's fist. "Nice and easy," the man said. "Selty?"
"I'm on it," a voice said from somewhere behind Riij. There was a quick set of approaching footsteps, and Riij felt his blaster being lifted from its holster. Another moment, and Maranne had been disarmed as well. "Got 'em."
"Now just keep moving," the first gunman said, gesturing Riij and Maranne in the direction they'd been going. "Let's go take a look at your landspeeder."
The parking lot was dark and deserted. But it wasn't going to stay deserted for long. Even as Riij led the way toward the landspeeder he could see shadowy forms drifting in from all directions. Whoever had gotten the drop on them didn't seem interested in taking any chances. "You want to tell us which one's yours?" the heavyset man asked.
"You want to tell us whose side you're on?" Riij countered.
The other's eyes flashed. "Don't push it, scum," he warned harshly. "You're in enough trouble with us as it is."
"Must be with Zekka Thyne," Maranne said ruefully.
"Must be," Riij agreed, his heart pounding a little harder. So it was definitely to Plan B now. "It's that dirt-brown one over there."
Two of the approaching thugs veered toward the landspeeder, the rest forming a loose but competent enough guard circle around the prisoners and their two escorts.
A double-sided circle, Riij noted with interest, with as many of their members facing outward as inward. Expecting trouble, maybe?
The thugs had the storage compartment open now and with grunts of satisfaction hauled out the two sleight boxes. "Got 'em, Grobber," one of them said. "Couple of sleight boxes, just like the man said."
"All set to fill up, huh?" the heavyset man said, throwing a dark look at Riij. "I guess Kast wasn't blowing smoke rings after all." Riij threw a glance at Maranne, got the same look in return from her.
They'd been right; Kast was definitely playing some crazy double- or triple-edged game here. "Kast told you about this?" he asked.
"Sure did," Grobber assured him. "So what were these for, the first payment?"
Riij shook his head. "Sorry, but I can't help you. We were hired to deliver the boxes and that was it."
"Sure," Grobber growled. "Just deliver the boxes. And if Crisk just happened to fill them up while your back was turned -- well, hey, that's none of your business, right? Promk, what the frink are you doing?"
"What does it look like?" one of the men at the landspeeder retorted. He had carried one of the boxes around to the hood and was in the process of popping the seal with a knife. "A couple of wise guys, a couple of empty boxes; I figured it might be fun to send 'em on to Crisk with their heads inside."
Riij was suddenly aware of his collar pressing against his throat. "I don't think that would be a good idea," he said, striving to keep his voice even. "You don't know where the rest of the boxes are."
"We don't, huh?" Grobber sneered, digging out a comlink and thumbing it on. "Skinkner? Hey, Skinkner, look alive."
"Funny, Grobber, funny," a twisted voice came back. "What d'ya want?"
"You at the Dewback Storage yard yet?"
"Yeah, 'course we are. If you were hoping to report us to Thyne for slogging off, you're out of luck."
"Wouldn't think of it," Grobber said, sending another sneer toward Riij. "Still think we don't know where the rest of the boxes are, hotshot?"
Riij felt his stomach tighten. So much for Plan B. So much, too, for any leverage they might have had against Thyne and his mob. Any chance of rescuing Palror and Trell was now squarely in his and Maranne's laps.
Assuming they were able to find a way out of this, their own private mess. Carefully, keeping his movements casual, Riij looked around the ring of thugs, trying to formulate some kind of reasonable plan --
"Mother of smoke!"
Riij jerked his head back around. Standing beside the landspeeder, Promk had finally gotten the sleight box open... and even in the faint light Riij could see the stunned look on his face. "Grobber -- you gotta -- what the frinking --?"
"Have you gone dust-happy?" Grobber demanded, striding toward him. He got two steps, and then suddenly his face changed, too. "What the--?" he gasped, all but leaping the rest of the distance to Promk's side.
Riij sniffed the night breeze carefully, caught the faint odor of spice. "You were saying something about empty boxes?" he asked.
Grobber ignored him. "Get the other one open," he ordered, pulling out a knife of his own and probing delicately into the spice. "Selty, get over here. The rest of you, watch for trouble."
Selty joined his boss as Promk brought around the second box and setto work, and for a moment the two thugs conversed in low voices over the spice box. The debate was interrupted by the crack of breaking duraplast, and the two joined Promk by the second box. Someone whistled in awe. "Grobber -- are those --?"
"Durindfire gems," Grobber said, lifting his eyes like twin turbolasers to Riij's face. "Let's have it, pal, and let's have it straight and fast. What the frink kind of game are you playing, anyway?"
"I told you before: we're not playing any games," Riij told him. "We were sent to deliver the cargo, and that's it. If there's a game going on, someone else is running it."
"Kast," one of the other thugs snarled.
"Or Kast and Crisk," Grobber snarled back, yanking out his comlink again. "Skinkner? Wake up, Skinkner."
"What d'ya want?" the other's voice demanded. "Frink it all, Grobber--"
"Shut up and listen," Grobber bit out. "You looked in any of those boxes yet?"
"'Course not. Thyne said to just watch them until Crisk's blaster-boys came to fill them with--"
"You idiot -- they're already full," Grobber snapped. "Which means the contract's already been filled."
The voice on the comlink swore. "Kast."
"That's my bet," Grobber said. "Start getting your boys together -- I'm going to raise Control." He keyed the comlink again. "Control? This is Grobber. Control?"
"Grobber!" a new voice half barked, half gasped. "We've been trying to raise you for half an hour -- where the frink are you?"
"At the Mynock's Haven," Grobber said. "Listen--"
"No, you listen," the other cut him off. "We're under attack here, skrag it -- you've got to get back right away."
"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Grobber said. "What attack? Who's attacking?"
"Who do you think? The frinking Imperials, that's who."
Grobber threw a startled glance at Selty. "The Imperials?"
