Urrmkz finished grinding the Terran-style comlink under his heel as he looked speculatively at what the day had brought him. The human lay sprawled on the tunnel floor, his skin covered in soot, his right leg leaking blood. Urrmkz squinted at the human's face, and was reasonably sure it matched the flatscreen pictures he had viewed only a few minutes before.
Topside, there was the sound of sirens, all increasing in volume. Whatever this human had been up to, it had apparently received quite a lot of the wrong sort of attention. Urrmkz growled, a bass throaty sound that the narrow confines of the tunnel amplified and reinforced. He'd need to work quickly.
He slung the unconscious human over one scaly shoulder, tongue flickering out to lap up some of the blood on the human's leg. He growled softly at the burnt taste, and silently moved off towards his lair, navigating by memory and touch.
He finally reached his room and flicked the light on. He glanced around, and kicked a small rickety coffee table out of the way, dumping his cargo in the space thus cleared. He stood up and fetched his toolkit from the other side of the room. He flipped it open and donned his manipulators.
Urrmkz had always felt that the one major disadvantage Trandoshans had in the galaxy at large was their hands. Evolution had barely seen fit to grant opposable thumbs, but had drawn the line altogether at delicate fingers. Trandoshan hands were big and clumsy, capable of gripping rocks, perhaps, but there were even some models of blaster they were incapable of using.
The manipulators had taken some getting used to, but Urrmkz had used them so often they were now second nature. The shiny metallic devices clamped around his wrists and extended past his hands, ending in six delicate articulated fingers, like a Verpine's hand. Ever since he came to this Hutt-turd of a planet, he'd nerf-herded the power supply, since he was reasonably sure he'd never be able to replace the power cell. Still, this was a time he needed them.
He turned to the corpse of the vagrant that he'd been saving as a treat for himself, and his metal fingers danced over it, delicately stripping it of clothing. He then turned his attention to the living human, removing its clothing even more carefully, being careful not to tear any of it.
Urrmkz paused after removing the human's shirt - the human was wearing what passed for armour on this backwater. He removed it, his clumsy Trandoshan hands fluttering and contorting inside his manipulators as he examined it.
Two small projectiles sat lodged in it, and Urrmkz glanced down at the unconscious human. Sure enough, two livid red marks stood out on its torso, one on the ribcage, the other on the stomach. Urrmkz shrugged, and began to dress the corpse in the living human's old clothes, pausing only briefly to drill a hole in the corpse's leg to match the one on the living human.
Finally finished, he typed a quick message to Bill Skywalker, then threw the corpse over his shoulder and headed off into the tunnels, hoping the police search had not spread too far from the entry-point.
Josh came to slowly, and almost wished he hadn't.
He hurt. A lot.
It felt like he'd been whacked in the stomach with a sledgehammer, his leg was throbbing, and he was feeling very cold. He opened his eyes slightly, trying to check on his surroundings without letting on that he was awake.
He didn't recognise the room. The ceiling was rough-hewn stone, but there was a fluorescent light hanging from it. Josh risked moving his head, and saw a computer set up on a desk, over to his right. He seemed to be alone.
He began to sit up, and in doing so, realised two things. First, that his adrenaline had let him ignore the pain of the bullet wound in his leg while he had been running - but in more relaxed circumstances, the pain would hit him full force. Secondly, his clothes had somehow disappeared.
Alone, bleeding and naked in a strange room. Sounds like the title of a very dodgy porno. Josh dragged himself over to the computer, trying to ignore the bloodstains he left on the floor behind him, and looked at the monitor. A screensaver was active, bouncing multicoloured lines around the screen. With a grunt as he shifted his weight, he reached up and jiggled the mouse. The screensaver ended, and a Windows screen came up. Josh glanced at the most prominent window, and frowned.
Bill Skywalker? What the hell...?
"Awake, huh?" said a gravelly voice from the doorway. Josh spun, readying himself for action - and threw far more weight on his leg than he should have.
The last thing he saw before the pain drove him unconscious was a Trandoshan, filling the room's doorway.
"Star here."
"Mr. Star. I am called Lurker Below. I was referred to you by an associate of yours, a Bill Skywalker. He contacted me with regards to a unique cargo you were on this planet to obtain."
"So you are the mysterious Lurker. Your information is correct."
"I have the package in my control at the moment. A little worse for wear, but I have done all I can to ensure it does not expire."
"Very good. The package is of most use to me fresh. Tell me, Lurker Below - what is it you desire in return? I have blasters, repulsorlifts - name it, and your dreams will come true."
"Mr. Star, I feel it is only fair to inform you that I am also not native to this world, so I am not so easily bought. However, there is a favour I would ask in exchange for this package."
"Continue."
"I have an associate who has a death mark on him from Muaga the Hutt. I would like - what's so funny?"
"I believe your associate has nothing to worry about on that score, Lurker Below. By all reports, the last time anyone saw Muaga that blubber-ball was on course to Roaquel the long way."
"No hyperdrive?"
"No ship."
"Well, in that case, I would like five thousand credits, cash."
"Five thousand is a lot for a milk run like this. One thousand."
"Four thousand."
"Fifteen hundred."
"Three thousand. I have expenses to cover."
"Two and a half is as high as I can go."
"Done."
"A pleasure doing business, Lurker Below. Where are you able to meet us?"
"I have a ship. Where would you like us to meet?"
"I have further business to conduct on this rock. I will determine a suitable rendezvous, and my droid will forward you the co-ordinates on this frequency. Is that satsifactory?"
"No tricks. Your package could easily be my lunch."
"No tricks. It's such a tedious way of doing business."
"Right. On this frequency, then. I'll be in touch."
"Delighted to hear it. Star out."