Glitterstim Of My Eye
Part Four of the 'Game of Chance' Series
The ‘Golden Iggot’ had finally docked.
Carn’s promise of some time away from the hustle and bustle of his organisation had led the cruiser to Gus Treta; a small rocky moon sat at the outermost orbit of Corellia that would hold no real significance if not for the Gus Treta Inner System Market Station that it held within it’s own smaller orbit.
Fortris had only seen the station once before, his old routes having kept him away from the station which was rumoured to have been moved to Gus Treta’s orbit after a pirate cruiser known as ‘Xim’s Scion’ got into a skirmish with CorSec forces a few centuries ago. The wreck was said to have been salvaged by a group of enterprising Corellian’s who towaed the two-hundred and fifty plus remains of the cruiser into an elliptical orbit around the moon and converted it into a refuelling depot with the intents of capitalising upon the increased travel within the sector. However over the years the station was sold, taken over, liberated, gambled away, and resold until finally it was purchased by a Hutt named Gormo Vasadii Grasso.
Now, Fortris was never one to judge a person he hadn’t met, but this Gormo clearly showed the integrity of a Hutt with the genius of a proper industrialist business mogul.
For years the Hutt worked with Hoersch-Kessel Drive, the company that he had traced to originally building the Scion and had seen to the task of stacking modular expansions atop the station resulting in a silhouette nearly triple its original size.
The increased space had created a bustling hive of spacers and travellers that walked both sides of the law within the Corellian system, all looking for the best trades and cheapest spiced ale they could.
Andrasta had gone in search of the latter which had left Fortris to his own devices, a novelty that he had been lacking in recent months, so the Chiss had headed off into the station in search of the one thing that he saw value in in this damn sector.
A good meal.
Bell’s Cantina was apparently the best eating hole on the station, a smaller and darker location than the more mainstream and brand new Blasted Asteroid Cantina chain that sat just outside of the hanger bays. The rumour was the food at the Blasted Asteroid was no more than recycled waste on a plate and while Fortris was sure that his bowl of stew that had just been produced in front of him by a heavy set chef was no different the smell definitely created an instant hunger that had his mouth water.
“Thanks.” The smuggler offered as he took up the dented spoon next to the bowl, the chef did little to reply, just a grunt and let his gaze hover over Fortris who so far seemed to be his only customer of the day. “The Astroid hurting business?”
Another grunt followed by a thud as a cleaver was launched through some dead creature on the bench.
“Yeah thought as much.” Fortris took a mouthful of the stew which went down rather well and was worth the credits it had cost.
With only a quiet Corellian folk song playing in the background and the occasional thud of the chef’s cleaver Fortris found himself able to think on the events he had found himself in, how he had lost everything to stealing an Imperial Frigate with no more than his fists and a crazy Kiffar pirate.
It was a crazy thought, that he would find himself the first mate aboard a ship that actually held a legend about it. The he, a simple transporter exiled from his home would have the chance to make something with his life.
Yeah it was crazy.
“Ah, Mr. Cohl.” The voice of Carn Truuvik soared across the cantina from the entrance and caused Fortris to pause in his eating as he turned around to face the portly figure that had caused him so much trouble since that fateful sabacc game on Corellia. “Oh would you rather Fortris.”
“Just Fortris is fine.” He responded as he gave a nod to Carn’s unspoken request to join him. “I would like to think we are on first name basis Carn.”
“Indeed.” The older Corellian took the stool next to the Chiss and gave the chef a small wave of the hand which was replaced by the same stew that Fortris still had half finished in front of him. “Ah I miss this place sometimes.”
Fortris gave Carn a solid look over before returning to his own stew. “A personal favourite?”
“Ever since I was young Bell’s has been a regular eating spot for me when I’m in this part of the system.” Taking up his spoon as well Carn took a mouthful and seemed to savour it. “Which is unfortunately rarer than i’d like these days.”
Fortris understood the feeling. There were plenty of places from his younger life he thought he would never leave behind, but now he looked back on them as no more than memories. It was a shame really.
“I’m actually glad I found you here.” Carn had turned slightly to look at Fortris as he ate his meal. “I’ve been meaning to speak with you and Sitra.”
Fortris raised his eyebrows slightly and gave a grunt, his eyes never leaving the yellowish slag in the bowl before him. “About?”
“A job.” Carn replied simply.
It was always about a job with Carn, get this here, get that there. It was all good having an employer who offered the amount of jobs Carn did, but as yet Fortris had not seen a single credit for his troubles.
“We getting paid for this one?” Fortris asked, his tone polite.
“Actually yes, I believe it is time you start seeing the profit from your troubles.” Carn offered a smile, crooked and almost scary. “After all you helped me out with the Corson’s, we just received an answer for our ransom and it was more generous than even we were expecting.”
“I’m happy for you.”
Carn looked hurt. “I was being fair Fortris, I’m running a business remember. Now are you interested in work or not?”
Fortris sighed knowing that he really didn’t have a choice, but if Carn was actually paying. “What’s the job?”
“Simple deliver and collect.” Carn took another mouthful of stew. “A client of mine is needing his brother released from a small time Hutt on Tatooine. Now I am in the fortunate position of having already opened up lines of communication with this Hutt through other legitimate means and he is willing to release this man to us if I can deliver a small shipment to him in return.”
“Seem’s simple enough.” Fortris said through a mouthful of his disappearing stew. “What is the cargo to be delivered to the Hutt?”
“Knowing him probably some form of black market goods, haven’t seen the crates to be sure.” Carn replied.
Unspecified goods to and life trafficking back, Carn never failed to raise the stakes.
“You trust this Hutt?”
Carn gave a small shrug. “Not as far as I can throw him, but Teemo is a small time gangster. He lords over a small settlement deep in the sands of Tatooine with enough loyal partners to be considered a player. He isn’t a viable threat. Not yet.”
“Whats the payout?”
“Three thousand credits up front and an additional thousand when you return our clients brother to Corellian space.” Carn placed his spoon down and slid the bowl away from him before regarding Fortris with a blank and serious look. “I do however have an additional bonus available for completion of a more personal objective.”
There was something in the way that Carn’s attitude had changed that put Fortris slightly on edge.
“More personal?”
“Yes, a favour I need to ask.” His fingers and started tapping at the bar. “There is a contact I need you to see, he goes by the name Hurk, or the Old Man. You are to exchange a small package to him in return for another human.”
“Another human?”
“Yes, a female this time. She shall be returned to me personally and I will see to it that you are rewarded.” Carn gave a small smile.
Fortris didn’t answer straight away, he was still trying to judge Carn’s sudden change in mood.
“I guess we’ll be in the neighbourhood.” Carn’s smile grew.
“Exactly. I shall have a log placed onto the data core of the Kestrel for your review. I suggest you leave within the next twenty four hours.”
“The Kestrel is ready?” Fortris sounded surprised.
“Not yet, she is flyable though.” Carn wiped his hands on a napkin and stood to his full height. “You’ll be accompanied by one of my engineers. He will meet you in docking bay twelve.” Turning to leave Carn slid a credit chip onto the bar top. “Dinner is on me. Good luck.”
Fortris stood himself and straightened his jacket before raising his wrist to his mouth.
“Hey Kiff. I’ve got us some credits. Docking Bay twelve.”
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