Star Wars - Love is a Warm Blaster - Unpublished

by Paul Danner

“All of the in-house security equipment is in place. Tech teams are erecting both bio and weapon scanners at each entrance. In addition to uniformed security, we’ll have NRI agents in disguise.” Cabe shook his head in disgust. “However, I still think we should call off the event entirely. It’s too much of a risk. Especially with the life of the Chief of State.”

  “The New Republic has a firm policy in dealing with threats. We will not bow to terrorism.” Cracken’s voice softened somewhat. “Besides, Leia would never have agreed to cancel the event. Proceeds from the Maltesara Masquerade benefit hundreds of charities. It is the social event on Coruscant.”

  “And the perfect place for an assassination,” Cabe countered.

  “It’s our job to make sure that doesn’t happen.” The General handed the figurine back to Daniera. “See what you can dig up at the Vortex… just be very careful.”

  “Always,” Daniera smiled.

  “I’d like to go with her,” Cabe said.

  “Negative, Major. You and I are going to personally supervise the final security preparations at the Grand Ballroom of the Palace.” Cracken stood and walked the junior NRI agents to the door. “We each have our duties to carry out.”

  Daniera pulled the cloak tightly around her as she stepped into the gloomy corridor. Lumas strung haphazardly along the hall offered some illumination, at least the few that were still functioning. She originally had a hard time believing that an exclusive establishment would be found in such a place, but from what she’d recently learned about the clientele of the Dark Vortex, maybe it wasn’t quite that strange after all.

  Not too far removed from Coruscant’s legendary Undercity in location or spirit, the Vortex catered to the movers-and-shakers of the planet’s criminal element. Rumor had it that anything (or anyone for that matter) could be bought or sold at the club. Of course, not all the patrons could be directly tied to organized misdeeds; just as many were the idle rich and powerful who thought it exciting to rub elbows with danger.

  Daniera frowned at the dilapidated hallway with its leaking hydropipes, fungus-covered walls, and the Maker-knew-what brownish slop covering the pitted floor panels. She knew for a fact there was nothing in the general vicinity she intended to rub elbows with.

  Her forward progress was finally halted by a large onyx blast door in good condition. Flecks of white covered the ebony exterior, giving the overall appearance of a starfield.

  The smooth door had no apparent control panel, not even a handhold for that matter. Daniera ran a gloved hand over the surface but could not detect a hidden catch, lever, or other mechanism.

  An idea suddenly struck her and she reached into a pouch. After a few moments of fishing around, she realized what she was looking for had vanished.

  Daniera cursed under her breath and nearly jumped out of her skin when a soft voice emerged from the shadows and asked, “Looking for this?”

  The barrel of Daniera’s hold-out blaster was suddenly pressing against the underside of the man’s chin. “Step into the light,” she commanded. “Now.”

  Grinning, Love did as he was ordered. “Oooh. There’s nothing like a woman with command presence.”

  Daniera tucked the weapon away, eyes flashing with a fiery mixture of anger and relief. “What are you doing here?”

  “Evaluating talent,” Love said. “You passed.” He handed her the Darth Vader statuette.

  “So, the great M’Kyas Love is also an accomplished pickpocket.”

  “There are many, many talents I excel at.”

  “Such as skulking about in the shadows?”

  Love flashed his best grin. “I graduated top of my lurking class.”

  She nearly smiled, but merely turned back to the door. A quick twist activated the miniature lightsaber. The minute crimson blade cast its eerie glow on the door and… nothing happened.

  With a grunt of disgust Daniera prepared to hurl the mini-Vader into hyperspace, but Love placed a restraining hand on her arm. “Wait,” he whispered. “Look.”

  Daniera turned back to face the door and watched in amazement as one of the larger stars in the starfield suddenly began to glow a corresponding red.

  With a hesitant finger, she reached out and pushed the lit panel. The door rumbled and then slowly began to ascend into the celling.

  “Good to go,” Daniera said. A dim corridor stretched ahead into darkness.

  “Watch yourself,” Love warned. “And I know it’s tough, but let me do all the talking. Women are about a step above slaves in this hole and it can get a little rough.”

  Daniera paused, her eyes narrowing to slits. “So you’ve been here before, huh?”

  “Yeah, but not for pleasure. One of my acquaintances owns the place.”

  She put her hands on her hips and glowered. “Then you knew how to get inside all along?”

  Love merely grinned at her and then stepped into the Vortex.

  Daniera was still blustering as they entered a circular greeting chamber. A large black podium was the only furniture in the shadowy room, though a dozen velvety curtains led to places unknown.

  A greasy-looking Twi’lek clad in an expensive black cloak stood behind the podium, eyeing Daniera with a voracious stare.

  Daniera leaned over to whisper, “Is it me or does this species seem to just chum out slimy servitors?”

  Love grinned and added in a loud voice, “Every good little Twi’lek dreams of growing up to be a majordomo for some galactic sleaze-merchant. Isn’t that right, Vab?”

  “Love. I can’t tell you how happy I am too see you,” Vab D’BuuIa snarled, “Because I’m not.” The Twi’lek returned his hungry gaze to Daniera, baring yellowed incisors and a pustulated tongue. “However it was extremely kind of you to bring me dessert.”

  Daniera recoiled from the hideous attendant, but Love walked right up to lean his elbows on the podium. “The only thing you’re going to be feasting on is your own head-tails unless you tell me which curtain that space slug Mah-Luu is cowering behind.”

  Unimpressed, Vab reared to his full height. “Do you have an appointment to see the master?”

  “Sure.” Love reached into his coat. “Here you go.”

  Vab found himself staring down the very large barrel of Love’s very, very heavy blaster pistol. Love put a tiny bit of pressure on the trigger, causing the overpowered weapon to emit an intimidating whine as it charged to fire.

  Vab only had to consider the offer for a microsecond. “Curtain number three. Third door to your right.”

  Love grinned and as he passed Vab gave the Twi’lek a friendly pat on the shoulder, causing the attendant to noticeably cringe.

  Daniera caught up to Love as he drew aside the third curtain. “That was pretty good. Remind me not to play you at sabacc, I’d never know when you were bluffing.”

  “I wasn’t.” He nodded back at Vab. “Last time he spent three weeks in a bacta tank.”

  “I can’t believe you.”

  “You do what you must to get the job done,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder, which she immediately shrugged off.

  “Listen, girl. Things are going to get intense in there.” He nodded to the door down the hall. “Luu-Mah ‘Thermal’ Mah-Luu likes to keep his guests off-balance.”

  After checking the blaster pack, Love finally slipped the gun back into its holster. “Don’t want to appear rude, though…”

  As they continued down the hall, Daniera asked, “What in the name of Byss is that cannon you carry, anyway?”

  “Well, in addition to having an amazing olfactory and auditory abilities, we Latarzians are also highly adept weaponsmiths. Our soul weapons are more than merely guns, they are statements of who we are.” He glanced back at her, a bit embarrassed. “But I won’t bore you with our silly little customs.” He paused for a long moment, then handed her the gun like a cadet offering his weapon for inspection. “Base Calban Model X Heavy Blaster Pistol, with added side blaster sight, galven pattern upgrade, energy converter valve
adjustment, and half a dozen other little tweaks that few people know about.”

  Daniera turned the bulky weapon over in her hands, nodding in appreciation. “It’s amazing.”

  Love beamed like a proud father. “I’m thinking of adding a droid brain and vocabulator.”

  She handed it back. “A talking gun?”

  “Yeah,” he said as he holstered the blaster. “Neat, huh?”

  Daniera could only shake her head. “Oh well. You know what they say… big gun, little—”

  “Problem hitting the target,” Love interjected as they arrived at the correct door. He reached for the control panel, but she abruptly stopped him.

  “Hold on a sec,” Daniera narrowed her eyes to slits. “Why do they call him Thermal?”

  “Oh. You’ll see.”

  Daniera should have been very comfortable. She was seated in a plush replihlde chair, the air filter controls were at the perfect setting, and she was sipping from a warm mug of juice (well, holding it on the saucer in her lap because the last time she took a drink, her hand was shaking too badly to successfully dock with her lips).

  She glanced sideways at Love, who was seated beside her, but his attention was focused on the obese Ubese behind the unique desk. It was apparently constructed purely of fused bone matter. Daniera counted over two dozen different species represented. And as if that wasn’t quite disturbing enough, she now knew how Mah-Luu had earned his nickname.

  The Ubese businessman was holding a silver sphere in his hands, universally recognized as a thermal detonator. Mah-Luu was playing with it, like a being with a nervous habit. Only this habit was making Daniera nervous.

  Mah-Luu would slide the firing trigger into position, arming the device’s built-in six-second delay. Then a few seconds later, he would thumb the trigger back into its original position, deactivating the device. Unfortunately, at times, Mah-Luu would get lost in thought or caught up in the conversation and his finger would stay slid into the armed position.

  Time would tick down quickly and Daniera would hold her breath and prepare to get acquainted with her long-gone ancestors, but then the deactivation would come within what she was sure was the last fraction of a microsecond.

  If that wasn’t bad enough, Mah-Luu had a tendency to giggle at inopportune times, such as when no one had made a joke. Daniera hoped the Ubese had a malfunction in his vocalizer that was causing the outbursts. Either way, from what she had seen so far, “Thermal” Mah-Luu was altogether not the sort of being you would ever want holding a thermal detonator under any circumstances, except possibly if you happened to be really far, far away… as in the next galaxy.

  Actually, Daniera wasn’t sure what bothered her more, the thermal detonator or the fact that Love didn’t seem the least bit perturbed by its presence.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Love held up the Darth Vader figurine.

  Mah-Luu merely shrugged. “Plenty of guests keep souvenirs. I can hardly be expected to recall every being who crosses the threshold of my fine establishment.”

  “Why not?” Love demanded to know. “You probably have vid cameras rolling 36 hours a day for future blackmail purposes.”

  “You wound me,” Mah-Luu said, switching on the detonator. “Come now, you know I cannot reveal the membership of my club under any circumstances. That’s bad business. And my sort of bad business is only good for getting you dead.” He started giggling, then switched off the device. Just as abruptly, he re-activated the timer. “Not to mention, I have certain ethical responsibilities as the owner of this establishment. A bond with my customers. One of trust and mutual confidence that what occurs within these walls never sees the harshly judgmental light of day.” When he finished his soliloquy, the detonator was returned to standby mode.

  “I already know that the being in question had a membership. I even know why. I could smell the cheap perfume from one of your girls all over him.”

  Daniera’s eyes widened, but she remained silent.

  Mah-Luu leaned his bulk forward. The detonator was switched on… “Then why, pray tell, are you here, Love?”

  “I want to see the girl.”

  “It’ll cost you just like everyone else.”

  “Fine.” Love reached into a pocket.

  The Ubese’s finger hovered anxiously over the still-active trigger.

  Love held up a cred stick.

  The detonator switched off. Mah-Luu held out a corpulent hand for the stick and carefully studied the amount held inside. His giggle broke the silence.

  On went the detonator. Away went Daniera’s breath.

  Love locked eyes with Mah-Luu and a noiseless test of wills seemed to stretch on for too many seconds.

  Off went the detonator. “Who?”

  “Senator Luralon Odaay.”

  “Ah, yes. The Turian.” Mah-Luu touched a recessed button under his desk and the door swung open. “Thermal” gave a high-pitched giggle. “He just loved Induki.”

  “I bet he did.”

  The cred stick vanished out of sight, but the Ubese still played with the detonator.

  Love walked to the door, shadowed by Daniera. “So much for those pesky ethics,” he said.

  “I have to hand it you, Love. You are still pretty good at what you do… for your age, that is.”

  Love glared at him. “Is this the part where you give me the recruitment speech?” Mah-Luu giggled at that. “You? Hah! I’d as soon hire a Luudrian lockjaw. At least when its eyes turned red, I’d know it was going to turn on me. I doubt you come with any similar safety features.” The Ubese focused his gaze on Daniera. “Your companion doesn’t say much… I like that in a female.” The Ubese leered at her. “What do you say, sweetmeat? Looking for a job?”

  Already annoyed at having had to play the subservient mute, Daniera strode back to the desk and pointed her hold-out right at Mah-Luu’s head. “Are you looking for a third eye?”

  The Ubese merely tittered even louder. “Oooh. Feisty, too! I must have her. Come on. Love… how much?”

  “She’s not for sale, ‘Thermal’. And even if she was…”

  Daniera gave him a look over her shoulder.

  “…You couldn’t afford her in a million years,” Love hurriedly finished.

  Mah-Luu looked annoyed as he tossed the cred stick back at Love. “Even trade. Her for Induki.”

  Love shook his head. “That’s not an offer.”

  “You’re right,” Mah-Luu said, triggering the detonator. “It isn’t.”

  Two burly Rodian bodyguards appeared at the door, dressed in scarlet-colored cloaks and brandishing blaster carbines.

  Love glared at Mah-Luu. “We had a deal!”

  “So much for those pesky ethics,” Mah-Luu giggled as he switched off the detonator.

  Daniera had not moved her weapon. “In case you forgot, there’s a blaster pointed at your head.”

  Mah-Luu chuckled, nodding to his guards. “And one pointed at each of yours. With reinforcements on the way. Not the best odds.”

  Love’s right hand was snaking into his coat as he talked. “I always prefer to play the hand I’m dealt.”

  “Too bad I don’t feel the same way.” ‘Thermal’ began to chortle wildly. “House rules, you know.” He touched a bloated finger to another button under his desk, opening a comm-Iine. “Vab, take Induki for a vacation. Now.”

  Daniera locked eyes with Love. He gave her a quick wink and then suddenly dropped like a wounded bantha, landing flat on his back. The heavy blaster was already cradled in his hands and before the first guard could lower his own weapon to draw a bead on the now-prone enemy, Love pulled the trigger.

  A deafening roar echoed through the room as a pulsing blaster bolt exploded into the Rodian merc, knocking him off his feet and more than a meter backwards. The guard slammed into the wall and crumpled to the ground, his chest smoldering and blackened.

  Without taking her eyes off Mah-Luu, Daniera whipped her gun arm around a
nd snapped off three rapid shots into the remaining merc.

  Mah-Luu tried scrambling to his feet, but Daniera already had the barrel of the gun re-trained on him. “Oo-ta goo-ta, Tubbo?”

  Love grinned as he joined Daniera.

  “Rescind that last order,” she demanded. “Tell Vab to bring Induki in here.”

  The Ubese merchant sneered at her. “Surely you wouldn’t shoot an unarmed man…”

  “No,” Love answered for Daniera, “but I would.” And he unceremoniously shot Mah-Luu point-blank in the chest.

  Daniera cried out in shock, spinning around to face Love. “Love, you are a maniac!”

  “Thank you.”

  “How could you—”

  “Relax, sweets,” Love said as he twisted a knob on his blaster back to its original setting. “This thing does have a stun setting, you know.”

  She looked back at ‘Thermal’, who had flopped back into his chair and was on the starspeeder to unconsciousness.

  “Great, but what about Induki?”

  Love suddenly cocked his head to the side. There was the distinct whine of repulsorlift vehicles close by.

  Before Daniera could even open her mouth, Love started for the door. He paused in the hallway for a split second, then hurried back into the room and punched the stunned Mah-Luu in the stomach. The thermal detonator in the Ubese’s hand popped up into the air, and Love easily plucked the device from its ascent. He then spun on his heel and sprinted out into the hall.

  Daniera was right behind him. “Love, you are certifiable!”

  “Thank you.”

  She gestured frantically. “That way is a dead end. We’ve got to go back the other—”

  The words died on her lips as she heard the sound of many booted feet approaching from that very direction. “Love! We’re about to have some company.”

  Love was still running for the wall at full speed even as he thumbed the switch to activate the thermal detonator. He sent the device spinning ahead of him and began to count out loud the six-second timer delay.

  Closing in from behind, Daniera realized what he was doing. “Stay out of the blast sphere, you lunatic!”