[Hutt Bounty] The First, Deenaba the Dug

[Pygmy Sloth]

Frath looked over the controls of The Hammer; everything was still in good working condition. It had been nearly five years since he’d stolen the vessel, which had been known then as The Tug. A few hundred creds and a crooked planetary official later and the vessel was undeniably, legally speaking anyway, his. He’d had to finish replacing a few parts on the NCAP but nothing major. Frath was a good pilot, not a great one, but good enough to get out of his fair share of scrapes. Perhaps it was more the vessels defensive capabilities than Frath’s ability, but so far he’d not had any issues evading capture. Frath’s landing hadn’t been as smooth as usual and he wanted to make sure nothing had been damaged on the way down. After a few moments, satisfied that the vessel was not impaired, he shut down the engines and the main computer.

Frath had recently brought in a Wookie as a bounty to the Cartel. It wasn’t that impressive, the Wookie was especially dumb and the bounty was for the Wookie’s head which made it even easier. On the way out of the Bounty Acquisition Office and Archives on Nal Hutta he decided to just take a quick look at the current postings and see if there was any light or fun work available. There was one that jumped out to him almost immediately. It was a Dug on Tatooine named Deenaba. There wasn’t much information other than that. Deenaba had been fixing races and splitting the profits among some of his coconspirators. The Omega Final was coming up on Tatooine and the intel provided showed that this would be a pot too big for Deenaba to pass up.

The Dug was small and possibly lightly armed, most gamblers were. But Frath had a few ideas already running through his head on how to take down the rouge Dug, so he took the bounty and headed for Tatooine. He’d arrived three weeks prior to the race and was getting ready for the takedown. His plan was fairly simple, he would set up as a small time investor of one of the racers. Hopefully three weeks was enough time for his alias, Jack Booth, to get thrown around and allow him access to Deenaba. He’d make a side bet with Deenaba and, supposing the Dug actually did good work, lose the bet. From there Jack would flee the track, making sure to leave a trail back to his ship. The Dug didn’t have any history of employing guards so hopefully he would track down Jack, a wimpy looking investor, alone. Once Deenabe was on or near the vessel, Frath would make the take down.

The first two weeks went fairly well. Frath was able to get in on a low level of investing with a racer whose pod had been wrecked in the last race. Frath had found out that the Dug had won quite a bit of money on the race and if the Dug was consistent Frath’s racer was sure to be a loser here as well. Frath considered the Dug had been so easy to track down by the Cartel due to his repetitive tendencies. Frath had provided some parts for the racers vehicle in exchange for a co-sponsorship for this race. It was enough to spend the last week up to the race establishing his persona. He wore loose clothing to mask his size and even got into a pretty public scuffle with a sponsor of another race. The other sponsor was quite round and weak, and under normal circumstances Frath could have easily taken the man. But Frath needed to let everyone know that he wasn’t a threat. After getting beat up, Frath made sure to make some public appearances and get the story out into the public as quickly as possible. He made sure to sound humiliated and push off further information when pressed for it by questioners.

With his name firmly established amongst those watching the Pod racing news, Deenaba was sure to be one of them, Frath disappeared for two days to tail Deenaba. During the stalking Frath learned that Deenaba typically carried an old blaster pistol with at all times. Furthermore, as Frath suspected, Deenaba didn’t have any discernable body guards. He did however have several cohorts who helped him sabotage other racers’ pods. The Dug was sneaky, is small size and stature helped him hide in places that Frath couldn’t follow. Frath was pleased to personally get to see Deenaba sabotage his own racers’ pod. He loosened the stabilizer on the left engine. It meant the Pod would last for a while before wrecking, which would give Deenaba time to finish watching the race and collect some of his money before coming after Frath.

Now, Frath was going over the plan in his mind one more time after shutting down The Hammer. He’d load stun bolts into his R5 and place it by the boarding ramp. He’d show up the race, seek out Deenaba and ‘drunkenly’ bet his starship that Frath’s pod would win. When it became clear that Frath’s pod was going to lose, he’d make a run for it. He had a swoop waiting outside the arena to make sure he could make it back to the landing pad. Once he made it he’d grab his R5, wait for Deenaba, and take him and anyone else who showed up down. The landing pad was on the outskirts of the town and far enough away from any prying eyes.

Frath left the bridge and double checked the ammo loaded into the R5 before stowing it near the boarding ramp. He locked up the vessel and swung his leg over the rented swoop. His clothing was very jedi-esque, tan loose fitting tunic with a dark brown robe. While the clothing was plain he’d spent a bit more than he normally would have to help cement the idea of him being somewhat wealthy. The trip took several minutes and by the time he arrived at the arena he was entirely covered in sand.

Well these clothes were a waste of money. Frath thought as he dusted himself off and shook the sand out of his hair. He looked at his chrono and made sure he still had plenty of time to encounter Deenaba and place his bet with the Dug. It didn’t take long for Frath to find the Dug, he was talking down all the other racers and doing his best to get a rise out of anyone who would listen. Good. Frath thought.

“Now you listen here!” Frath said as he slightly stumbled his way toward the Dug. He make an effort to seem intoxicated but not flat out, blathering drunk. “I’ve got ten thousand creds says my man beats yours.” Frath’s eyes narrowed a bit and stuck his chin out daring the Dug to defy him. Deenaba scoffed at Frath and barely gave him a second glance.

“You don’t have ten thousand creds.” The Dug said laughing.

“No.” Frath said slowly and thoughtfully. “But I do have a spaceship at the Boonta Outskirt Pad.”

 

[Pygmy Sloth]

That got the Dug, and everyone else’s attention. Someone came up and tried to grab Frath and pull him away. Frath held out a hand to stave off the alien advancing on him. With his other hand he pulled out his datapad and pulled up a holo of his vessel. “Yeah, now you’re lookin’ at me huh? Whadya say? Are you man enough or are you gunna Dug out?” Frath added a wry smile as if he was especially proud of his snide remark.

The Dug gave him an intense glare and Frath was sure if the pot hadn’t been so sweet and there hadn’t been so many people around the Dug would have attacked him then and there. The Dug slinked up to Frath and put a foot into Frath’s chest.

“You’re on poodoo. My ten thousand against your junk heap. I’ll see you at the finish line!” With that the Dug left and went on into the arena to get ready for the start. Frath did the same but was escorted by his fellow sponsors to their viewing room. Frath did his best to keep up the drunken façade while the race started. There was a grand procession with flags representing the racers and their planet of origin. There were several minutes of cheering and waving before the racers were ushered by their crew to their pods. The next few minutes were spent by the announcers giving information about the pods and their pilots. Finally the race was about to start. All the pilots had started their engines and were focused on the race, the cheering faces and smiles were all gone, it was all focus now. There was a collective breath being held as the countdown started. When the final light lit green there was a roar as twenty pods’ engines kicked into gear and charged down the track and thousands of spectator let out a cheer. All the racers but one made it past the start. One of the pods seemed to be having engine trouble and didn’t make it more than three feet before the left engine caught on fire.

Frath was busy watching the progress of the racers who did manage to get their pods to start. One minute into the race another pod went down. Frath hadn’t been watching close enough to see what happened but the wreckage covered all the screens in the arena. The pods were well out of view by now and everyone was watching the several monitors with numerous angles around the arena. By the time Frath figured out what happened with the first wreck, there were two more pod racers involved in a collision. Frath decided instead of trying to watch the entire race he needed to focus on his racer so he would know when It would be time to bail.

Frath’s pod made it all the way to lap four of five. The racer wasn’t particularly adept and was quickly falling behind the last ten racers that were still flying. As soon as Frath noticed that something had gone wrong he tore through the arena. “Can’t let him have my ship.” Frath said before leaving his fellow sponsors. He shot out of the arena and jumped onto his swoop and sped off towards his vessel.

 

[Pygmy Sloth]

The trip back to his vessel seemed to fly by. The adrenaline of getting ready for a fight was overwhelming and pushed him and his instincts forward. He loaded the swoop into the NCAP and retraced his steps to grab his R5. He’d parked the swoop perpendicular to the boarding ramp which he left down. He crouched behind the swoop, cocked the weapon, and rested the barrel of the gun on the seat of the swoop. The race would be ending about now and the Dug would have realized that Frath, or rather Jack Booth, would have gone missing and tracked him down. Frath checked his chrono and estimated that the Dug would be there anywhere from five to ten minutes depending on how greedy he was.

It took six minutes. It seemed there were only one or two other bets that were of more importance to Deenaba. Frath could hear the landspeeder as it approached and powered down. Frath heard a door shut, a door, the Dug was alone. When Deenaba poked his head around the corner he had a blaster drawn. The Dug leveled his blaster at Frath and shot. Frath shot back. The Dug didn’t have good cover and Frath’s weapon was honed in on him. All it took was one pull of the trigger and the Dug fell. As Frath stood he noticed a pool of dark liquid at his feet. Firefek! Frath thought for a moment that he’d been hit. He began running his hands over his body for a moment before he realized that the pool was oil from the swoop. Frath cursed his bad luck and raised himself from his knelt position. The ten cred swoop had now become a 1,500 cred liability. He’d used a fake name and address to rent the swoop but others had seen him with the swoop and would realize that he’d used several names while in and around Boonta. With the disappearance of Deenaba a damaged swoop and laser marks on the swoop questions would be asked and that was no good.

Frath hurried over to Deenaba and quickly disarmed him. Frath found a vibroblade in the Dug’s belt and took that from him as well. Frath had long ago outfitted one of the cargo storage areas into a holding cell. He’d installed plumbing and a cot after he found his first bounty laying in a bed of his own filth. Frath had to clean out the storage area and once was enough for Frath to spend the money he’d gotten from the bounty to outfit a better holding cell so that he wouldn’t run into the same situation again. After a minute of struggling he pulled the Dug up the boarding ramp and into the holding cell. He found a key to the landspeeder and nothing more on the Dug. Frath closed the holding cell and made sure it was locked. Frath then proceeded back down the boarding ramp, which he also shut and locked, before getting into Deenaba’s speeder. He found a pile of creds in the passenger’s seat. Good, you’ll be the one to pay for my new damaged swoop. Frath thought as he counted the creds while he drove. It wasn’t enough to cover the swoop but it would cover the majority of it. Thankfully the swoop shop was on the other end of town from the arena. It would hopefully prevent him from running into anyone he didn’t want to see at the moment.

Frath parked up the street, pocketed the one thousand credits and scanned the street before exiting the landspeeder. He waited until the street was empty and exited the speeder. He locked the door and ditched the keys along the way to the swoop shop. He pulled his hood over his head and did his best to look nonchalant as he walked up the street. The road stayed empty as Frath opened the shops doors and approached the clerk.

“Hey, I rented a swoop from here yesterday, I’d like to buy it out if I can.” Frath said attempting to mask his voice and keeping his head low so that if there were any cameras they wouldn’t pick up his face.

“Absolutely! Just give me your name and I’ll start the paperwork.” The clerk said in a cheery voice.

“Whitener, Pep Whitener.” Frath replied quickly and quietly. The clerk began working away on the computer and after a few minutes produced a piece of flimsi.

“Alright, that’ll be fifteen hundred creds. Just sign here and it’ll be all yours!” The eagerness with which the clerk was willing to sell the swoop told from that there was going to be more issues with the bike than just a ruined oil pan. Frath handed over the creds wordlessly and signed the papers. “All done!” the clerk announced and Frath left before he could say anything else.

It took Frath hours to get back to the landing pad. With no swoop or landspeeder to get him there he had to walk all the way back to the remote landing pad. By the time Frath arrived it was getting dark and Frath was exhausted. He’d walked well out of town to avoid being seen and circled back around towards the landing pad. As he approached his vessel and lowered the boarding ramp Frath could hear a pounding coming from the storage area. It seemed Deenaba had woken up. Frath strode up to the bridge and from the cockpit closed up the boarding ramp and started up the engines. The pounding was inaudible from this part of the vessel but Frath was certain that it hadn’t ceased. As the engines warmed up he picked up the ships intercom.

“Listen slime bag. You can go ahead and stop pounding it’s six inch durasteel, you’ll break your hands before you get through the door. Sorry it turned out this way, if you hadn’t been so bad at your job I wouldn’t have had to do mine. Anyway, there’s some rations under the cot if you get hungry. We’ll be in Nal Hutta in a jiffy, so you probably won’t even need to eat anything. Anyway, sit back, relax and as always if there is anything the crew can do to make your flight more enjoyable please keep it to yourself.” Frath clicked off the intercom and pushed the thrusters. The Hammer’s engines came to life and the vessel lurched upward into the night sky. If the pay was as good as promised Frath might be able to afford everything he purchased for this bounty and a little left over. Frath took a deep breath as the vessel bounced a bit as it went through Tatooine’s atmosphere. In a few seconds it was over and weightlessness took over the vessel. Frath waited for a moment before activating the gravitational compensator, he always enjoyed the feeling of space. He sank back into his seat and smiled as he imagined Deenaba falling to the ground in the cargo bay. He took a moment to punch in Nal Hutta’s coordinates into the navicomputer and waited for it to calculate the jump to hyperspace. There was a beep and a light began flashing green. Frath tapped the green light on the display and pulled the hyperdrive throttle back. The stars expanded and became infinite lines of light as the vessel launched toward home.