"Spice!" Amir sat up straight.
He was no stranger to the word. There were many types of spice produced across the galaxy. It was a general term for substances that could be plant-based, derived from animal organs, or even processed from feces. But none of that mattered in the underground world.
Spice was a psychoactive substance. It helped numb the nerves and alleviate pain. Some variants were even used in the manufacturing of high-precision instruments.
However, that wasn't the first thing that came to mind when people heard the word.
Spice was severely addictive. After experiencing the euphoria and the vivid hallucinations it caused, countless people found themselves unable to live without it. They were willing to drain their family fortunes and abandon everything they owned just for another hit.
Wherever the spice trade reached, it destroyed families, corrupted bodies, and reduced minds to flickering candles on the brink of being extinguished.
Charles noticed Amir deep in thought and continued, "Yes, since you know about spice, you should know how much it's worth! This is the finest kind, sought after by countless rich fools!"
"I'm not interested in spice," Amir said flatly.
"Don't say that, kid. No one is uninterested in money. I know what it's like to be poor," Charles said, stroking his stubble as if reminiscing. "It's not good, Amir. Besides, we sell spice to rich people—you know, those bastards whose blood isn't clean. Every palace, every mount, and every credit that passes through their hands is made from the blood of the poor."
Charles spoke through clenched teeth, and Amir could feel the passion in his words.
"Why not make money off them?" he continued, trying to press his point.
"I don't care if those people are evil, and I don't care how you make your credits. I'm not joining you."
Amir stood firm. He liked money as much as the next person, but he believed in earning it the right way. No matter who the buyer was, he wouldn't touch the spice trade. That was his principle. He strongly rejected anything that caused that kind of destruction.
Although Charles had a set of self-deceptive excuses, they were only good enough to fool naive children. Amir had seen too many people on Coruscant turn into walking corpses because of spice. He wasn't about to change his long-held views over a few justifications.
Still, Amir hoped to extract some information from Charles.
He asked, "What does this have to do with the favor you're asking?"
"Of course it's related! That's exactly why!" Charles crossed his legs and fidgeted angrily.
"Originally, only a few smugglers knew about this place. We had a safe spot to harvest the spice, and we made a good profit every time we came here. But this time, some idiot let pirates track us down. When they arrived and discovered the Lumni spice, they took over our former camp. They seized that high-yielding, safe area for themselves! They want to cut us out completely!"
Charles threw his hands up. "As you can see, we're all solitary operators, while they have an entire fleet and more than a dozen men. We don't stand a chance in a fight. This batch of goods has already been collected. All that's left is the extraction process. Everything is stored in that camp, and now it's all gone."
He sighed. "I can only venture into this unexplored area to find new collection sites, and you've ruined it! My ship is gone, and I almost became dragon slug dung!"
Charles looked utterly frustrated.
"So you want me to help you fight those pirates?" Amir looked at Charles helplessly.
"Hahaha, you're really funny. The two of us? I'm not looking to die," Charles laughed.
"Then what do you want me to do?"
"I want to steal back the cargo that's already been collected. By now, those pirates should have finished extracting it, and it's probably no bigger than a small crate. I want you to sneak in, grab the goods, and meet me outside in your ship. I'll be waiting to pick you up."
Amir looked at Charles like he was an idiot.
"All right, um . . . I'll go in and steal it, and you pick me up. We'll split the money 70-30." Charles quickly changed his tune.
Amir sighed internally. Charles seemed like a fool, but he was actually a seasoned veteran. First, he presented a suicide mission that Amir would never accept to lower his defenses. Then, he proposed his real plan. This way, Amir was more likely to agree to the role of the getaway driver, and Charles thought he could gain an advantage in the split.
Ignoring Charles's ulterior motives—and refusing to let him take the lion's share—Amir went along with the plan but negotiated hard.
"50-50," Amir said.
"Fine. Let's work together, Amir. Once this shipment arrives, we'll each get 50,000 credits!"
Though he knew the spice trade was highly profitable, Amir couldn't help but feel a pang of emotion at the number. He thought of the unfortunate man who had been willing to fight to the death for only 1,000 credits. What a loyal brother.
Charles hadn't considered the possibility that Amir might abandon him during the operation. After all, profit was the most important thing in his worldview, and no one would willingly give up a share of such a massive fortune.
The only thing Charles had considered was how to fight Amir over the goods once they were in hand.
"Let's get moving, Amir. Follow my instructions, and the sooner the better!" Charles urged him immediately after reaching the agreement.
Amir couldn't find the entrance, so he headed straight for the cockpit. Charles followed closely behind and sat in the co-pilot's seat.
"Your ship is really nice." Charles examined the control panel, getting a general idea of the Traveler's configuration.
"Of course."
The Traveler lifted off and flew along the fissure.
After a while, Charles pointed to a flat area and told Amir to land. "The old camp is below the fissure ahead."
"What's it like in a camp hundreds of meters underground?" Amir asked curiously. It must be freezing down there without sunlight, and there could be unknown creatures roaming the dark. It sounded oppressive.
"The camp is relatively safe, but it only has basic infrastructure: insulation, lighting, and extraction equipment. No one stays there permanently. They come in, complete a shipment, and leave, waiting for the next batch to mature."
Charles, nearing the moment of action, seemed a bit tense.
"If we have to fire, you must come straight for me! It's pitch black down there. Even if they have more ships, it'll be easy to escape!"
"Got it. I won't sell you out."
"If everything goes smoothly, after I give the signal, head toward my position through the fissure. Then it's time to split the loot!" Charles couldn't help but smile at the thought. "If they've mined a few more batches, we'll make several times more money!"
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