"So, I am pleased to welcome you all here."
Climbing onto a small podium so he could be seen from everywhere in the cantina, a small, bald old man carefully scanned the room, paying special attention to me, Kanta, and a few other mercenary groups who had answered the call of this gentleman's money.
Yellowed skin, a huge bald head, and an old, picky face. He looked like the type of grandpa who never likes anything and thinks he could do it better himself... if he could, but his hands aren't what they used to be, though he can certainly scold and grumble; no questions there.
This old man was the organizer of this entire gathering. He was also the owner of a network of cantinas he'd built in the largest villages and towns. Some moisture-harvesting stations belonged to him, and several caravans traveled in his name, constantly plying the desert so his subordinates wouldn't forget who they actually worked for.
Behind the old man's back stood a couple of fighters, quite decent quality even by the look of them. Tall men in worn, uniform armor and carrying blasters. Large-caliber pistols were visible on their belts, and knives, grenades, and other joys of successful mercenaries hung from their webbing. I even noticed a couple of thermal detonators—true luxuries for the wealthy.
The cantina itself was packed with people. All sorts of sentients, many species of aliens; there was even one drone standing modestly in the corner, propping up the wall.
Nearly a hundred people, armed to the teeth and skilled at surviving the sands of Tatooine.
Clean and pleasant-tasting water stood on the tables, clearly purified with fresh filters. Crystal clear—it was an even greater luxury than any of the toys the gathered crowd possessed, and it was likely this fact that made even the most boisterous and stupid listen to what the old man was saying from the stage in a quiet voice.
"Surely many of you know me, but I will introduce myself anyway. My name is Kaoru, and many of you have often performed various jobs for me."
An approving murmur rose from the hall. Many mercenaries knew Kaoru, and it was indeed pleasant to work for him. Punctual, thorough, and ready to pay well if you did everything exactly as he wanted. Despite the crowds of subordinates, he preferred not to risk them and sent mercenaries to perform all sorts of work...
Many of his contracts, as I'd heard, especially at the start of the local magnate's career, had quite a stench to them, so his reputation was twofold.
But I, like many smart representatives of our profession, tried not to get involved with Kaoru, because the flip side of working with him was that if you messed up even a little, he might refuse to pay at all... And with a crowd of loyal and well-armed men behind him, you couldn't exactly pressure him.
Therefore, this entire performance, staged by bribed people who reacted correctly in the right places, was more irritating than anything. The old man knew how to work with people like us. He understood people well and adapted easily to the situation.
He knew perfectly well that every Wompa rat in this part of the desert knew his name. But the show was prepared, and to get the doubters to agree to the proposed job, he would push his line to the end.
"Kaoru's cold calculation"—a catchphrase that perfectly conveyed the essence of the man it was named after.
I think if he had a choice between money or his own family, he wouldn't hesitate for a second.
While I was musing, the old man continued to chatter, talking about how much he cared for this city and how much he was willing to give for its defense. Overall, there was very little lying in his entire story for the evening.
Huge resources had been invested in the town on the edge of the Dune Sea, and Kaoru was one of those involved.
"... Therefore, I am opening a contract for the defense of this city." Extending his hand to the side, the old man instantly received a stack of papers! Which he quickly sent through the rows so everyone could familiarize themselves with the details of the hire. "The price will directly depend on your contribution to this matter. And I promise you, you will not be left at a loss in any case."
Taking the passed sheet, I delved into the reading, and the further down my eyes went, the more they threatened to pop out of their sockets. The offer was damn generous...
I'd even say it was diabolically seductive! The terms, penalties, and rewards—everything was at such a magnificent level that many immediately rushed to sign the old paper as best they could.
The less intelligent were actively putting crosses in the signature box, while other "geniuses and professionals" impatiently listened to what was written in the contract... Not everyone on Tatooine knew how to read.
Turning the page over, I confirmed there were no additions on the back, then cast a questioning look at Kanta. We needed to discuss this, because everything looked a bit too enticing. The offer was damn generous, and I was even afraid to imagine what awaited us...
Turning my head to the side, I facepalmed, because my "brother" was already handing back the signed document, smiling joyfully and maliciously, snickering and drumming his fingers near his face.
"Idiot..."
Following Kanta's gaze, I came across the pretty face of a purple-haired girl in form-fitting armor. Sprawled at a table nearby, she was winking at Kanta, smiling patronizingly.
The girl sat very provocatively, showing off her best features. At the same time, she smoothly stroked the mug of water with her fingers, occasionally gathering drops of moisture from the edges and smearing them on her lips, causing the mercenaries sitting around her to flush with excitement.
Meeting my gaze, the girl licked her lips, winking at me, but...
I simply turned away, feeling no interest in her. I have no problem with women of loose morals—holy liberty had clearly gone to her head... But given her habits, half the desert had probably ridden her, so I'd pass.
My reaction caused the girl to practically hit a wall. Her face turned to stone, and an arctic cold settled in her eyes, which she tried to share with me.
Her posture changed in a second, transforming from a loose girl into a haughty, spiteful bitch... which she likely was in reality.
"And now I will tell you in more detail about those who will be opposing us." Thank God, Kaoru finished the veiled praises of himself and got back to business. The old man cleared his throat with a dry cough, then snapped his fingers a couple of times, and a couple more fighters crawled out from the back room, one of whom was clearly a girl. Kaoru's soldiers hung an incredible, detailed map that covered vast distances. Hundreds of settlements, dozens of towns and mines, routes of desert-dweller movement... A true marvel. "As we have managed to learn, our enemies will be diverse and dangerous, so listen carefully."
The further briefing for the most desperate people in the desert didn't include anything incredible. A set of approximate data, unverified, inaccurate, and lacking reliable confirmation.
Kaoru had likely withheld some of the information, rightfully fearing there might be spies or snitches among us, and then only conveyed general information about the enemy forces.
Where would they appear? When? How many of them? What were they armed with?
Bitch...
It felt like I was preparing for a drop from the Soul of Justice all over again. The feeling was exactly the same. Dress Kaoru in Sergeant Boyle's uniform, give me a couple of "intellectuals" like myself, and we could boldly go into battle for freedom and democracy.
"With courage in our hearts, rushing into the fray. For God is with us, Super Earth, and Saint George himself..."
Whispering under my breath, I felt my fingers automatically beating out the rhythm of the Super Earth anthem. Tapping my foot in time, I felt an inexplicable calm and even tried to listen to the mountain of bullshit Kaoru was feeding to the most simple-minded.
This whole circus continued for another half hour, after which the end of the meeting was announced, and the crowds of mercenaries, militiamen, and other fortune seekers quickly departed.
Less than ten people remained in the hall. Had they been warned in advance, or did they consider themselves that much better than the others? I don't know, but I wasn't particularly interested.
"An interesting company has gathered."
I thought, getting up from the table as I prepared to leave the cantina along with the other mercenaries. The disgruntled Shorty was habitually grumbling under her breath, and I was already thinking about how to appease my friend, but then two thugs blocked my path.
"Hm? I don't want any trouble, guys, so," looking up from the floor, I met two cheerful gazes from familiar faces. The Zabrak brothers, who had stood somewhere out of my sight during the whole meeting, stepped into the light, greeting me with slaps on the shoulder and smiles, "ha-ha. Look who we have here. Good to see you."
While the Zabraks and I were fraternizing, the others remaining in the hall grouped together at one table where Kaoru himself sat down. Casting a glance at them, I saw that the old man was watching us intently, as if waiting for us to finally finish messing around.
"Let's go to a different cantina. I want to know how you're doing." Jabbing a thumb backward, I flash a wide, thirty-two-tooth grin. "Important things are happening here; we shouldn't get in people's way..."
"Perhaps we should ask these "people" what gets in their way more."
Kaoru's voice was laced with venom. The old man had clearly expected something else from me, and in principle, I understood what.
"He wants to talk to you..."
"Take you onto the team..."
"Asked us for help..."
The familiar conversational style of the pair of brothers stirred up nostalgic memories.
"I don't want to get involved with him," I whispered back to them, my words causing a tense expression to cross the faces of the pair of Zabraks, "you must realize yourselves that he's being shady."
"We realize..."
"But the city..."
"Is truly in danger..."
"Damn, you're hitting me where it hurts." Resting my hands on my hips, I realized that this whole business was giving me an unpleasant sinking feeling in my gut. "Fine, let's go chat with the old man. Tell him you managed to talk me into it; maybe you'll get a bonus."
Exchanging smiles, the Zabraks nodded to Kaoru, whose face took on a patronizing and satisfied smirk. The old man had clearly imagined more than was there, but none of us intended to upset him and shatter his naive dreams.
Turning around and crossing the distance between us in a few steps, I found myself in less-than-pleasant company. Honestly, I wouldn't recommend anyone hang around these people, even considering one of them is my "brother."
That debauched girl stood closest and looked at me with pity, contempt, and anger all at once. At least, she wanted to show all those emotions, but deep in her eyes, one could see excitement and amusement at the whole situation.
Kanto had perched himself next to her, looking up at the girl's assets, drooling from under his helmet. For a moment, it even seemed to me that his spherical mask had taken on a lustful flush, so heavily and strained was he breathing in this woman's presence.
Opposite them stood a grim man, completely bundled up and shrouded in a cloak. On his face was a gas mask, and over it, a black hat with long brims... He was dressed entirely in black... Bloody psychopath.
To the man's left stood the aforementioned droid, which constantly flashed its crimson oculus, shifting it from one participant of our little gathering to another. Its thin, I would even say dystrophic body didn't seem dangerous, but that was only at first glance.
The droid had incredibly mobile limbs. The abundance of joints showed that it could rotate its arms, legs, head, and torso in any direction, even three hundred and sixty degrees.
Its chassis was a shiny matte-gray color that blended with the dark decor of the cantina.
"A damn expensive toy to be hopping through the desert. No amount of lubricant would be enough for him—servicing that many parts every day."
The last was Kaoru himself, behind whose back stood a quartet of thugs in identical armor. I don't know if my sixth sense told me or if I was just fooling myself... But it seemed to me that these guys were staring at me with both eyes, literally burning holes in me. Honestly, I couldn't tell for what purpose, which was a bit unsettling...
"I'm glad you changed your mind, Destroyer. A man of your skills will clearly not be redundant in our venture..."
Kaoru was clearly waiting for some reaction from me, but I just stood there and looked at him with a light smile on my face, waiting for him to continue. The old man's cheek twitched with annoyance, but nevertheless, he easily returned to his prepared speech.
"... Therefore, it's time to discuss our plan in full, without extra ears and potential snitches who might blab to our enemies." Snapping his fingers pompously, Kaoru received a small tablet computer into his hands, which displayed a map of the surrounding area. "Of course, even if our technological level isn't the same as in the rest of the galaxy... we aren't exactly barbarians. Though with the fall of the mining station, everything has become a bit more complicated."
The mention of that event echoed in my heart. After an unpleasant sting, the memories vanished as quickly as they had come, waiting once again for their hour to remind me of my own recklessness.
"So here's the deal. In reality, everything turned out to be several times worse and better at the same time than what I said at the briefing," licking his finger, apparently an old habit of a bookworm, Kaoru ran it across the screen, zooming in and pointing out red dots on the blue map, "here, here, and here... possibly here too. These are the camps of these newcomers who call themselves The Cartel."
"The Cartel? Could it be the Hutts? Then why isn't the name complete? Or is it some other group?"
Questions gnawed at me from the inside, but I didn't let it show, trying to remain calm, and judging by the faces of the others, they didn't notice my slightly dilated pupils.
"... Not only are there a lot of these bastards, nearly two hundred people. But they also have almost a hundred drones of fairly good quality." Continuing the list, Kaoru pointedly didn't lift his head from the tablet, while his guards were one hundred percent scanning our state to report back to the old man later. "The most unpleasant thing is that they are excellently armed. Blasters, cannons, detonators, speeders, vibro-axes, and other joys for killing one's neighbor. If we meet them in open combat, we'll all be slaughtered like a herd of sick banthas."
Setting the tablet aside, the old man showed us a couple of photos demonstrating our enemy's power. Resembling flying boats, the speeders of this The Cartel circled around a pack of Desert Demons. Huge insect-like brutes that could give even a krayt dragon a run for its money were being briskly gunned down by blaster cannons mounted on the sides of these yachts.
A shot from the main caliber on the largest speeder left nothing of one of the brutes but bits and pieces, which funnily scattered in different directions.
Throughout the battle, the bandits shouted, had fun, and didn't stop drinking, fucking, and using all sorts of things, joyfully firing in all directions. Do you understand? Only due to the number of barrels, these drugged-up idiots slaughtered a pack of dangerous predators. There was no skill here, no mastery—only raw power, which proved itself perfectly in action.
"It seems to me... that our chances are slim."
Scrolling back a frame, I stare at the size of the demon killed with one shot and estimate what kind of crater that cannon must leave if it fires at houses.
"Exactly."
"What?" By confirming my words, Kaoru triggered a violent and synchronized reaction from everyone. Even the melancholic droid froze and broke off its staring contest, then turned to Kaoru. "Then what's the point of gathering such a crowd?"
"I have a plan. Simple, reliable, and proven." Turning off the photos, the old man switched the map back on and pointed us to the foothills of the Dune Sea, which awaits brave travelers on the other side from us. "This is local sacred ground for the desert dwellers..."
Zooming in on the map, the old man pointed out the places where the sand people roam, set up camps, and pray. And the mountains were literally riddled with these points. It seemed that the Jundland Wastes—that was the name of this place—was one continuous city of desert dwellers, full of caves, secret paths, and their shrines.
"You want to lure The Cartel there? They clearly aren't fools; they won't chase us right away, and they surely know who lives there..."
"That's exactly why we needed all those weaklings. It's on their shoulders that the task of luring the enemy will fall, and yours," poking a crooked, dry finger at us, the old man laughed nastily, "is to drive them to the point where they do it without a second thought."
***
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