Port Town
- level 192 -
Sergeant Gaskar Esthamere of the Bespin Security Force had walked this beat for two years, and knew it like the back of his hand. Far from Bespin's upper levels, the inner warrens of Port Town never rated for the pretty eggshell and copper scapes of the skyline. Down here, the view was dirty. It wasn't a slum, not really. Compared to a Nar Shaddaa tenement, this was a royal palace. The people here had jobs, well most of them did. Of course that meant more often than not it was nine Ugnauts sharing a studio apartment to scrimp and cover the rent. The troubles in Port Town were the more palatable sort. Robberies. Drugs. That sort of thing.
Of course, that could always upgrade into a murder case if the wrong person met the wrong people in Port Town. That's why he was here.
It wasn't entirely civic duty that had brought Sergeant Esthamere back around to this part of his beat. A cop's wages only went so far, and they went a lot shorter when you had a string of cold hands at the sabacc table. He wasn't a crooked cop, he was just living in the real world. Sometimes you fall in a hole, and sometimes someone offers you a way out that seems innocent enough. If that was corruption, then everything had to be corrupt sooner or later.
"Hey you..."
Gaskar prodded a sleeping Ugnaut with the tip of a boot, rousing the alien who groused a few curses in guttural squeals. The thing reeked of gin. Passed out in the commons was no way to be. He didn't want to waste his time ticketing public intox. Hopefully the Ugnaut had just passed out before reaching his flat.
As Gaskar dealt with the drunk, a door opened further down the row. Unit AA14. That was the one. The beat cop made sure to keep his attention occupied with the Ugnaut situation, but he also made sure to get a decent glance at AA14's occupant as she settled up with a takeout delivery droid. Brunette. Human. Early thirties by a guess. Gaskar hustled the Ugnaut on his way. Only when he'd gone the other way did he pull the flimsi out of his front pocket to check. The face on the photo was a dead ringer.
Gaskar reached a hand to the right side of his belt by habit, pausing midway. Official comm wasn't going to cut it. This side gig didn't happen, after all. He corrected himself, pulling a second personal comm out of his left pocket, and held it to his lips.
"You wanted me to look into AA14. I think you'll find what you're looking for."
Meanwhile, on the Bespin city skyscape...
"Miss Black?"
I paused in the middle of my dressing routine, midway through buttoning my shirt in front of the mirror. It was the middle of the dead hours before dinner rush. Before the casino would pick up. Best time to change shirts, grab a quick bite, and tie up loose ends. Loose ends like Molly Black.
"Certainly looks the part."
Sergeant Esthemere was playing his part. I had him on the hook for a grand at my tables. This little favor would cut his tab in half. If I got everything I wanted, he'd get even better. As far as buying cops went, Esthemere was very affordable. I liked to work with the locals. You couldn't get white glove service like that with the Stormtrooper garrison. They wore black gloves, after all.
"Look like she's got any heat on her?"
"If she does, they're careful about it."
He was a beat cop, not a professional. Besides, I had my own people close enough to bring in if this went sour. I preferred not to work that way. Cloud City operated best with as little blood as possible. It was expensive, and it ran the risk of Imperial attention.
"Find a reason to take her in."
"I'm putting my neck out with risk like that."
I winced, fingering the next button on my shirt tentatively.
"I know, it's more than I asked. I'll sweeten the pot. You get Miss Black face to face with me, and I'll knock off another twenty-five percent."
"For risk like that, it should be clean slate."
While the man had a point, I didn't like the idea of people in my contact list with settled debts. After all, he might learn his lesson about gambling.
"...four hundred."
The line went quiet while Esthemere weighed the risk/reward. If he was going to walk, he would have told me already.
"I'll do it."
I smiled in the mirror.
"Smart man. Soon to be a debt-free man. Give her a little scared-straight talk for show, and let her off the leash at Carroga's."
Mom and pop Togrutan restaurant two levels up. And not by coincidence, a Company holding. Esthemere was a smart guy, he could do the math.
"Done deal."
"I'm on my way."
Bookmarks