Devil's Circle
by Josh Nolan
-------

Silence reigned in the chamber, broken only by the faint hum of the power 
conduits in the walls.  The occupants of the room did not even breathe as 
they faced off, each squarely in the sights of the other's blaster.

Urrmkz studied the intruder.  A human male, wearing overalls festooned with 
junk - antennae, batteries, power converters, as well as a well-stocked 
toolbelt.  The human was part droid himself - the glaring red of a 
cybernetic eye burned in his left socket, and the hand that was not 
training the blaster at Urrmkz was clearly artificial.  The blaster, a 
Manos Firelance, was well-used and well cared for, and told Urrmkz a little 
about his adversary.  The Firelance was a reliable blaster, small for quick 
handling, robust enough to withstand quite a bit of tinkering, but lacking 
the intimidation factor of some of Manos Arms' larger models.  This human 
was a man accustomed to machinery doing exactly what he told it to do.

Urrmkz settled back on his stool, adjusting his posture for comfort, 
keeping the muzzle of his Runchak  Defense Systems LB-152 blaster firmly 
aimed at the newcomer.  He rested his free arm on the holotable behind him, 
and adopted a blase posture, as if people pointed blasters at him all the 
time.  Certainly, they had, but rarely for this length of time.

Finally, the newcomer spoke.  "Have I got the right room?"  He, too, was 
playing the blase game.

"That depends.  Are you here for Wireheads Anonymous?"  Urrmkz quirked his 
reptilian lips in a cruel smile.

"Only wire to my brain's in my optic nerve, scaleface. Does the word 
'Starflare' mean anything to you?"  The cyborg was doing a good job, Urrmkz 
had to admit.  He was standing, aiming like he could spend all day at it if 
necessary.  He didn't have the benefit of being able to lounge against the 
table.

Urrmkz flickered his tongue out at the insult, then said, "If it didn't, 
there'd be a bit less charge in my blaster.  Come in.  Sit down."

"Don't mind if I do," replied the cyborg, starting to circle around the 
table, keeping his blaster trained at Urrmkz.  The Trandoshan repaid the 
favour by keeping the Runchak pointed directly at the cyborg.

When the cyborg had reached halfway around the circular table, he spoke 
again.  "Are we going to keep this up all day?  It strikes me as 
inconvenient to try to negotiate with a third party while keeping blasters 
on each other."  When the Runchak didn't even waver, the cyborg added, 
"Unless you have a reason to kill me, in which case, shoot."

"There's no profit in it for me," replied Urrmkz.  "But that doesn't mean I 
want to let my guard down just yet.  Tell you what.  You put away your 
blaster, and I'll put away mine."  Urrmkz gave an unpleasant grin.

The cyborg's answering smile was more rueful than cruel.  "Compromise, 
then.  On the count of three, we both put them away.  Sound fair?"

"Most fair," replied Urrmkz.  "Do you want to count, or shall I?"

"By all means, count away."

"Very well, then.  One."

The blasters stayed firm and level.

"Two."

The slightest breath of breeze would have seemed like a hurricane in the 
stillness.

"Three."

Both blasters rose their point of aim gradually.  After an agonising few 
seconds, the blasters were both pointing clear of their intended targets.  
Then, and only then, were they holstered.

"That wasn't so hard, then, was it?" asked the cyborg, sitting down across 
the table from Urrmkz.  He favoured the Trandoshan with a wide grin.  "I'm 
thinking it's introduction time.  Hi, I'm Buran Vlek, and I'm a bounty 
hunter."

"My name's Urrmkz.  I do what it takes."  Something about the cyborg's name 
sounded familiar, and Urrmkz's brow furrowed with the effort of recall.

"Is that a name or a throat infection?"

"Just because there's no profit in it doesn't mean I *won't* shoot you," 
grunted Urrmkz in warning.  "Wait.  Vlek.  You're the droid guy, right?"

"The one and only.  It's good to see my robot army's starting to make a 
name for itself."  Vlek drummed the fingers of his artificial hand, looking 
speculatively at Urrmkz, then snapped the fingers of his meat hand and 
pointed at him.  "*Now* I know you!  You had a bounty on your head, what, 
four years ago?  Muaga the Hutt, if I recall correctly." Vlek put his hands 
behind his head.  "You must have been a real pain in his oversized ass."

Urrmkz grunted and shrugged..  "Who'd've thought Hutts gave that much of a 
damn about their children?"

"I try to keep my thoughts as far from Hutt reproduction as they'll get, 
personally.  Say, whatever happened to Muaga, anyway?  I heard he got 
vaped."

"From what I heard, he took a trip to Roaquel.  The long way."

"What, like, via Coruscant?"

Urrmkz sneered at the cyborg's demeanour.  "No, like, without a ship."

"Hey, no need to get snarky - just making conversation."  Vlek began to 
drum his metal fingers on the table again, apparently oblivious to Urrmkz's 
angry stare.  After a while, he spoke again.  "This is a pretty weird 
bounty, huh?"

Urrmkz glared at Vlek for a moment, then very deliberately turned his seat 
around to face away from him.

A few moments later, a high-pitched jabbering sounded from outside the 
chamber, and two Jawas came scuttling into the doorway, the battered head 
of a black and silver protocol droid held between them.  Urrmkz let out an 
annoyed growl, drew his blaster and levelled it at the scavengers when the 
droid head exclaimed, "Starflare!"

Urrmkz hissed as he raised his blaster to the ceiling.  "You're here about 
the bounty?"

The Jawas began to chitter, and the droid head began, "We represent the 
crew of the free ship Flotsam, and we are claiming a stake in this 
operation.  If - oh, I can't tell them that - are you mad?  Can you see the 
size of that blaster?  Very well, if anyone has a problem with this, they 
may address their concerns out the nearest airlock.  Of course I left the 
profanities out!  If you're not going to give me a body, at least trust me 
on what to say, you accursed -"

"Quiet!" Urrmz snarled.  The droid head shut up immediately, but the Jawas 
jabbered a little longer before taking the hint.  Urrmkz indicated a part 
of the table with his free hand.  "You two, sit there.  If you threaten us 
again, I will personally make sure you regret it before you die.  Clear?"

"Clear as a Keliphan crystal, esteemed sir," replied the droid head 
promptly.  "You hear that?  I told you not to threaten them, but no, you 
had to prove yourselves the big predators.  See what -"

"Droid."

"- sorry, esteemed sir."

Vlek cleared his throat.  "And another thing," he added.  "My equipment is 
not for public use.  If I catch either of you so much as looking too 
closely at my rigout, I'll give you a first-hand demonstration of the 
efficiency of my blaster.  Got that?"  He glanced at Urrmkz, and shrugged 
in response to the Trandoshan's quizzical look.  "I've had troubles with 
Jawas before.  It's best to lay the law down quickly."

Urrmkz humphed, and amused himself by glaring at the Jawas.  They'd rested 
their droid head on the table, and were trying to keep as low a profile as 
they possibly could behind it.  If they'd been able to flatten their hoods 
over their little glowing eyes, Urrmkz was sure they would have.  They 
obviously weren't fit for this kind of job if they were going to cower.

Still, that message had been pretty clear - this was not something a single 
operator could pull off.  And it wasn't like the others would be collecting 
'their share' of the bounty.  They just had to be useful enough for long 
enough.  That was all.

Just then, a voice sounded from the doorway, gruff, loud, and utterly 
unexpected.  "So, this is the Starflare party, eh?"

Even the Jawas reacted, levelling blasters at the newcomer even before the 
voice had finished.  Urrmkz glared down the barrel of his Runchak, 
assessing his target.  Or rather, targets.

The speaker was a Toydarian, gossamer wings keeping him impossibly 
airborne, arms wide above his distended belly.  His small blaster sat 
undisturbed in its holster, and yet he viewed the blasters arrayed against 
him with a toothsome, confident grin.  Some of this confidence could be 
explained by his companion, a massive Gand who stood behind the Toydarian, 
a blaster in each chitinous hand, insectoid face unreadable, poised to 
return fire.

"No need to be like that, huh?" grinned the fluttering shrimp.  "No way to 
greet a colleague, no way at all.  My friend here, he likes people to be 
friendly-like, don't you, Chorro?"  The Toydarian flipped a glance back at 
the impassive Gand, who grunted in reply.  "See?  Chorro don't like... 
hostilities.  So howsabout we all just calm down and act civilised, huh?  
What d'you say?"

"Some might say it ain't too civilised for your friend to come in with 
blasters ready," Vlek observed.  "There's more of us.  Get your friend to 
put his weapons away - and then we'll put ours away.  Deal?"

The Toydarian put his hands to his chest in an exaggerated expression of 
hurt.  "Why, you wound me!  Do you not trust me?"  He gave the assembled 
bounty hunters an appraising glance, then sighed.  "You don't.  Ah well.  
Chorro, put the weapons away, if you will."

The Gand grudgingly holstered the blasters, and the Toydarian flittered to 
land on a stool across from the Jawas, visibly happier once blasters were 
holstered all around.  "So, my new friends," he said as the Gand walked 
over to take his place behind him, "I believe introductions are in order.  
I go by the nom de plume of the Maestro, and my large friend here is called 
Chorro.  And who might all you be?"

Right at that moment, the holotable crackled to life, and the image of a 
hooded and cloaked figure materialised in the centre.  The bounty hunters 
all turned to face it, cutting short the introductions.  Those could wait.  
This couldn't.

"Gentlemen," began the figure, its voice clearly disguised.  "It is 
gratifying to see so many of you heeded my message.  That's good. Forgive 
my guise, but I wish to remain anonymous should this message be 
intercepted.  Now, for merely a twenty percent cut of the bounty, I can 
show you how to retrieve this Mr. Star from the facility that holds him - 
and do it all with a minimal loss of life.  Do we have a deal?"

"We have a deal," grunted Urrmkz, and was echoed by the others around the 
table.  The figure nodded, and began.

While the image changed to the representation of a star system, Urrmkz 
glanced at the rest of the hunters, idly wondering how many of them were 
actually prepared to sacrifice all but a fifth of the take.

None of them, he decided.  He'd have to watch his back.  And kill them 
first.