The Ugly Things We Do

[Hawkins Grime]

Malchiel stood from his cover and fired off a burst from his dual heavy caliber pistols. It sounded like the barking of a three headed dog. The moans that followed indicated the rounds had found their mark but Grime was behind cover himself and the red lances of laser fire that were still coming meant they were not all finished.

e'Drain's eyes were closed, whether from the dust and debris or in concentration, Grime cared not. However, when they snapped open, the man was in action and he just barely turned around the corner, firing off his own return fire from his smaller but more agile slug throwers. Another man screamed. Morrolan e'Drain quickly slid behind his pillar for cover again, glancing over to Grime and then nodding his head towards the half open door they had barricaded upon initially entering the lobby of the hotel.

Grime was sitting with his back against the wall, no weapon drawn. He needed no personal weapon at this point. His most deadly were his henchmen. If Hawkins Grime had to draw his blade, something had gone terribly wrong. Speaking of things going wrong, this whole situation had not gone entirely to plan as it stood.

[Hawkins Grime]

======= Prior to the gun fight in the lobby =======

The morning on Utapau was quiet but for the wind storm raging on the surface above the sink hole city. The Grand Hotel was frequented by tourists looking to gamble and enjoy the view as it was located within a cliff near about the middle of the entire sink hole.

A delivery vehicle pulled around to the loading dock on the far side of the cliff and one of the warehouse workers came out to greet the driver and his assistant. The assistant was a female with a feline grace and her uniform was a bit worse for wear with a few tears in it. The hotel worker smiled and let his eyes linger as he signed for the incoming goods. An extremely large labor droid unfolded itself from the back of the vehicle and began to move crates into the building efficiently while the driver remained in his seat and lit a stim casually.

At the front of the hotel, a sleek limo pulled up to the front. A broad shouldered man with long hair tied in a servant's livery moved around the vehicle and opened the back door. The tall lean figure that stepped out of the limo then moved in a halting fashion. His disposition was well shaded by his wide brimmed hat and his body concealed beneath a long cloak. The servant led the way to the entrance where the concierge greeted them both with a wide smile.

"Welcome to the Grand Hotel of Pau City. What name is the reservation under?"

The cloaked figure ignored her as he looked out across the sink hole before them while the servant managed their arrival.

"The name is under Talon. There is also an appointment arranged in your business lounge between Ser Talon and a Master Quenthz."

"Oh! One moment, while I pull it up. Oh yes, in fact, Master Quenthz is waiting for uh, Ser Talon inside the Executive Lounge, found inside and to the left, down the hallway, you can't miss it..."

The two arriving guests began to move inside before she was finished speaking.

"Oh, well, have a nice stay at the Grand Hotel of Pau City!"

[Hawkins Grime]

Quenthz rubbed the upraised scars that lined the back of his head, under the patchy black hair of his neck and to his shoulders. The crime lord had originally been the insurance plan of predecessor, a clone ready to be harvested due to a serious illness that led to the eventual failure of major organs. Ironically enough, the clone had removed the original. Quenthz II now suffered from rapid cellular degeneration as his shelf life as a clone was not meant to be nearly as long as the actual life span of a human, but no matter. All that did was spurn him on as he watched himself fall apart in the mirror every morning. The doctors said he maybe had around another decade if he was lucky.

The two guards standing at either side of him were quiet as Quenthz examined strands of hair that he was pulling from his scalp, praying they did not fall under his attention at this point when he would be most frustrated and willing to take his anger out on anything he could. They were glad his meeting was soon so he would have something to focus.

The intercom clicked to life.

"Master Quenthz. A Ser Talon has arrived and is heading to the Executive Lounge now."

One of the guards spoke up.

"Thank you. Please, allow them in."

Quenthz snarled as he tossed the hair from his fingers and tried to a more comfortable position in the chair he sat in, facing the double doors before him. There was an awkward silence before anything actually happened, drawing another snarl out of Quenzth before the doors opened.

=======

CENSORED slid another power cell into his carbine as he held his back to the wall. Quenzth stood across the way, discarding the pistol in his hand and drawing another. The wiry man coughed into his sleeve, wiping the bloody saliva from his mouth.

"Que-ball, keep it together. We've still got a Hutt to put down."

Quenthz' eyes turned to slits, glaring at CENSORED with barely veiled frustration. He almost coughed again while he turned the corner around his cover and then a lance of laser fire hit him in the shoulder. Quenthz' combat armor took most of it but he still fell back to the ground, turning away as he cradled his shoulder.

It gave CENSORED the opportunity that he wanted as the guards were distracted. He stepped out from cover as a wall of fire hit where Quenthz had been standing. His carbine spit two small bursts of fire and the room became suddenly quiet as the dust settled.

Quenthz looked up from his shoulder to have CENSORED standing over him.

"Don't quit just yet, we've got a paycheck to collect. I've had a lot of partners, Quenthz, but you... Well, you might just die before I get the chance to kill you myself."

[Hawkins Grime]

"Ser Talon. Welcome to Utapau. Welcome to my hotel."

The cloaked figure creaked into the seat across from Quenthz. A black, metal hand gripped the wide brimmed hat, removing it slowly and handing it to the broad shouldered servant. The voice was like grating metal against flesh. The tongue that flicked between ivory teeth dyed in oil was no more real than the rest of his face. Quenthz almost felt sympathetic, almost, for this contraption before him. The clone took more pleasure in knowing that at least someone was apparently worse off than he was.

"Your hotel, Master Quenthz, is quite a sight... Your obvious progress here is a sign that all of your investments must be in order... I look forward to engaging your interests."

=======

Quenthz and CENSORED sat on top of the dias. The smell would have been overpowering for anyone not used to it but the two men there had bee around the Hutts long enough. None of them had been around a dead one though, until now.

"King for a day, Que-ball. If you, of all people, were king for a day, sitting on this throne, what would you do?"

Quenthz leaned back on his good arm, crossing his legs before him, looking at the muck lining the soles of his boots thoughtfully.

"Ya know... I think I'd buy me a clone. Buy me a clone and fix me up for once. Overcome this..."

With his injured arm, Quenthz gestured to his own body.

"CENSORED, what about you?"

"If I was king for a day? I'd make sure I was king a bit longer than a day..."

=======

"Yes, about that, Ser Talon. Forgive me for bypassing normal protocol in conversation by cutting to the chase."

Quenthz leaned forward, his eyes trying to reach the bloodshot orbs set back behind the pale face.

"How exactly or what could you possibly have that I would be interested in? Let me be frank, you don't exist Ser Talon. In fact, there is nothing real about you, your story or even your body. So go ahead, convince me. Interest me."

[Hawkins Grime]

One of the guards shifted uneasily. Sweat dripped down the side of his face. The other guard, a Bothan, scratched his neck anxiously. As soon as their master, Quenthz, had begun to speak, the room seemed to spike in temperature and the tension mounted. They had both been informed ahead of time that this would likely be a trap and the eight other guards standing by granted a comfortable feeling where this broken machine and his one servant were concerned.

"Yes..."

The figure leaned forward to express a racking cough before it continued.

"Master Quenthz... I apologize for deceiving you. However, I promise that I can hold your interest for a time..."

On the other side, over by the loading dock, the air was tension free. The loading droid had finished moving all the crates. The delivery driver was smoking his second stim, while it would appear that the hotel worker had gotten lucky. The delivery girl had the hotel worker pinned against the wall, his head tilted to the side, eyes closed in pleasure as her lips were locked with his neck.

At a glance it might have appeared that he was lucky. As Valeria pulled away from the hotel worker, name tag indicating him to be Dav, she licked her lips of the blood, revealing the massive gash from his neck to his shoulder.

"Delicious."

She waved over to e'Drain, who flicked away his stim and quickly pulled the vehicle in reverse so it blocked the loading bay. The massive droid shuddered as it seemed to awaken. The head tilted to the side as it analyzed the dead hotel worker. Chroma trudged inside the building as Morrolan put his finger to his ear, following close behind the droid and the vicious feline of a woman.

"The boss is about to get things started, I think."

[Hawkins Grime]

"My name is Hawkins Grime..."

Quenthz seemed to sit up right and lean back all at the same time as he made a cutting motion with his right hand to silence Grime.

"Grime? The peddler from Iziz?! Guards... waste this leper and his dog for their insolence!"

As soon as the guards raised their rifles, the table between the two seated men flew up and into the ceiling. The servant standing beside Grime, Ithiel Malchiel, moved Grime's hat in his hand away from him to reveal the heavy caliber pistol in his other hand. Before the table could come down, the two guards were plastered against the wall behind Quenthz with holes in their faces. The table shattered as it hit the ground and Quenthz was jerking in his seat with his hands at his ears like some startled child.

"I'll give you a head start, Quenthz. Ten seconds..."

Grime's metal hand lifted before him, balled in a fist. The air around it wavered like it might above a rock in the desert.

"Nine..."

Quenthz was scrambling. Malchiel's brow was shiny with sweat. The sound of boots thunking and clumping behind the double doors was obvious; yells and calls for action accompanied them.

"Eight..."

His fist flickered, as if the air was igniting around it. Quenthz finally made it over the back of the chair. Ithiel Malchiel moved to the side, placing his back against a book shelf in the corner that effectively hid him from the initial entry vector of the door way. The voices outside the door were much louder now and numbered more each time Grime attempted to listen.

"Seven..."

Grime turned instinctively to a clicking noise outside the door. Malchiel had both of his massive pistols drawn in each hand; his violet eyes were like slits, as if he were just about to fall asleep. How deceptive. Quenthz crawled from behind the chair to the paneled heater behind him. Neither Grime nor Malchiel noticed Quenthz II as he slipped into the hidden space behind it because the doors exploded about the time Hawkins should have said 'six'.

[Hawkins Grime]

The hotel staff lay more or less where they had stood when Valeria had found them, much to their initial dismay. e'Drain had no clue what weapon she was using at the time but whatever it had been, there was blood meters around in any direction. Chroma, the hulking abomination of machinery, stood in the middle of lobby entrance, holding a security guard's upper torso, and only his upper torso, in one hand. The droid's white trench coat, an item that honestly befuddled Morrolan in it's origin, had black scorch marks where the laser fire had hit Chroma with little effect.

e'Drain had his back against the wall, hand on the console, ready to enter the hall way to support Grime when he heard an explosion that sounded rather nasty. He hesitated for a moment, waiting to hear if that had been the boss' mess or something he had stepped in. All he could hear was yelling. A lot of yelling.

[Hawkins Grime]

Grime was picking himself up off the floor slowly. In his exoskeleton, he did not have much of a choice of how quickly he could move anyways. Two men in black stood over him, blaster rifles pointed at his face.

"Stay down!"

He gladly collapsed back to the floor, staring at the ceiling. He could hear a lot of foot steps as boots crunched into the room. The two standing nearest to him barely had the breath to scream out as they burst into fire though. Another three skidded to the floor, massive holes in their body from Malchiel's slug throwers.

His position in the corner had offered him a degree of protection from the charge the guards had used to enter the room. The two guards on fire rolled and struggled for a moment before laying very still. It was a difficult thing to beat back flames that had erupted from within the body. The other three standing outside were screaming for a status report inside the Executive lounge. One head peaked inside and made eye contact with Grime for only a moment.

Hawkins could see the situation developing behind the man's eyes and then that processing stopped. The guard fell forward with three knives in his back, blood beginning to pool at his mouth. The one on the other side of the door only got off part of a warning to no one in particular as Grime heard the silenced song of e'Drain's slug throwers, a mere whistling of the wind in comparison to the loud barking of Malchiel's weapons.

From behind the wall, e'Drain called out.

"Boss? You alive?"

"Yes."

e'Drain quickly entered, bending over one of the corpses and removing the tactical comm link in the guard's helmet and hooking it into his wrist comp.

"Errr... we better move. Grime. Your boy is bringing the pain."

Hawkins was standing, placing his hat back on top of his head slowly as Malchiel dusted himself off.

"No... I am."

[Hawkins Grime]

Malchiel stood by the opening in the wall. Grime stared at it then at the gunslinger, his life support system built into his back sighed for him.

"Sir, it looks like the shaft goes upwards. No telling where from there."

Grime snarled as he turned, the room instantly heating up again.

e'Drain stood at the edge of the door way, watching down the hall way just in case more security showed up until Grime was ready to move. The boss was taking his sweet time with this. The tactical comm he had was demanding otherwise. He hissed through his teeth as he looked over his shoulder at the other two.

"'Ey Boss... We really should get out of here. We can just blow the place and go. He won't survive. Then we -"

"No."

Hawkins was walking past him, storming down the hall way back to the lobby, a sickening wave of heat following him that seemed to make the lights glow with a yellow tinge.

"I need to see his face... I need to see that face. See it peeled off, plastered against the wall."

[Hawkins Grime]

They entered the lobby to gun fire. Grime quickly slid behind a nearby counter as Malchiel and e'Drain entered, a cacophony of barking muzzles and the successive impacts that followed them.

Hawkins glanced near the entrance where Chroma stood; the massive droid seemed to be assessing the situation solemnly. Grime sneered and pointed to the door across the way, given the blue prints it led to another small lounge and a stair well.

"Chroma, barricade."

"Affirmative."

The droid trudged through las fire unaffected as it picked up a table in one hand and ripped a piece of a column out of its foundation and slammed them against the door. Then it grabbed the edge of the sliding door and bent it back, locking it in place, half way open. The machine jerked into motion faster than one would have thought it could move; its arm suddenly pressed through the open space for a moment. A loud scream could be heard from the other side and Chroma withdrew its arm, covered in blood.

Valeria bounded, like some feral beast, between the pillars, sliding up behind Chroma where she dangled a concussion grenade in front of Chroma before hitting the charge and tossing it in the lobby on the other side of the barricaded door.

Grime leaned against the pillar with his back to the gun fire, almost relaxing as the gun fight developed between the guards coming off the elevators and e'Drain and Malchiel.

[Hawkins Grime]

Malchiel stood from his cover and fired off a burst from his dual heavy caliber pistols. It sounded like the barking of a three headed dog. The moans that followed indicated the rounds had found their mark but Grime was behind cover himself and the red lances of laser fire that were still coming meant they were not all finished.

e'Drain's eyes were closed, whether from the dust and debris or in concentration, Grime cared not. However, when they snapped open, the man was in action and he just barely turned around the corner, firing off his own return fire from his smaller but more agile slug throwers. Another man screamed. Morrolan e'Drain quickly slid behind his pillar for cover again, glancing over to Grime and then nodding his head towards the half open door that Chroma had just barricaded.

Grime gave a head nod to Valeria who grinned devilishly before tossing another grenade inside the room. The shock wave sent a gust of air through the lobby. Grime used the dust and low visibility as cover as moved to the far wall. e'Drain was not far behind, ready for any sign of the enemy to their front as Malchiel took up the rear, laying down suppressive fire.

"Send the droid back. Have Averre make the ship ready for departure."

e'Drain nodded and whispered into his comm unit as they made their way closer to the door. Valeria had already slid through the hole and the noise of melee and blood shed could be heard on the other side. The feline woman was pretty like a sharp knife. Morrolan then put his hand on Hawkins' shoulder as he moved ahead of him, glancing through the hole and making his way through.

Grime clambered up to the door and hissed as he drug his exoskeleton painfully through the passage; his feet came down into a mess of blood and gore, the aftermath of Valeria ripped across the small lobby and the pulverized and headless victim of Chroma laying near by. Malchiel continued to put down suppression fire until Grime could see his back on the other side of the door.

[Hawkins Grime]

CENSORED climbed the stair well, Quenthz wheezed for air behind him.

"Why... did we take the stairs?!"

"Elevators, turbo lifts... death traps."

=======

As Grime made step after step, wheezing with each mounted effort, he thought of the real Quenthz. The real Quenthz would have known, would have known what was coming. Valeria and Morrolan took point, advancing up the stair well, weapons drawn. Malchiel followed behind, waiting for the eventuality of enemy forces coming from below.

=======

Quenthz II sit behind his desk, las pistol in hand. His other hand scratched at his balding scalp, pulling another tuft of hair out. The stress was not helping his degrading state. He hissed and slammed the butt of the pistol against the desk in anger.

"Gimme an update!"

His executive security officer stepped forward from the small huddle of uniformed guards that were standing around the security console.

"Errr... they are in the right wing stair well. I dispatched two more squads. One is still enroute. The other just made contact but were taken out. I recommend we get you to the transport, Boss."

=======

"You know, Que-ball, if I was him... I'd be headed to a ship outta here the second I knew that we were coming for me."

"Dren! Why didn't we think of that before? He could already be gone and out of this place by now!"

"But see, its not me. I'd cut my leg off to get out of a trap. Some people are stupid enough to think their friends might save them.

=======

"What? I'm not leaving! This is MY place! This floor is full of MY men holding MY guns. Send more men after them. Get ready for them at the stair well."

"Uhhhh..."

"NOW!"

[Hawkins Grime]

The guard struggled, his hands gripped on Grime's metal forearm as his legs kicked for any kind of footing. The guard's eyes met with Grime's, lined with blood, set in the porcelain face. He gurgled something from between clenched teeth before smoke and the smell of burnt flesh came from his mouth. The metal fingers released their grasp and the body crumpled to the floor, a hand print seared deep into the flesh of the guard's neck.

"Almost there..."

e'Drain leaned over the railing to look up and confirmed it, with only two more floors to go. He could also hear a lot of loud voices up ahead as well. He wasn't so sure about his odds but he had enough faith in Grime to think the Boss knew what he was doing.

=======

"Almost there."

"How can you tell?"

"Because those last few guards died with desperation in their eyes. And not the normal kind. We're about to start fighting a bunch of rats that realize they've been cornered."

Quenthz hesitated, looking back at the crumpled bodies they had just walked over. He looked back up the stairs to see CENSORED staring down at him.

"You want to take point, Que-ball?"

"You seem to have it pretty well, wouldn't want to ruin your streak."

"I am pretty far up there by now aren't I? I mean, just counting the stair well alone. I'd almost have to ask myself why you're even here..."

Quenthz eyes went wide in momentary shock before CENSORED's laughter rang within the stair well.

"C'mon, Que-ball. Let's get going before the next wave shows up."

[Hawkins Grime]

The guard wiped sweat from his forehead, taking cover behind a turned over table, facing the only doorway to the stair well. His buddy of all of the last two hours was right behind him with a shotgun. He glanced over to him to notice the Rodian was profusely sweating as well. The nerves were getting to them.

The other guards behind them shifted noisily, a metal clang resounding somewhere in the back. The guard might have heard them shout before the door blew out. The door bent and flew towards the ceiling, fire gushed out of it like a bleeding wound. The guard and his buddy with a shotgun fired into the flames.

=======

Quenthz fired at point blank into the face of a moaning gun man that hadn't died yet. He looked up in time to see CENSORED bent over a woman that had been shot in the leg and then disarmed.

"You gonna question her about what's through the next door?"

CENSORED looked back at Quenthz with a look as if to ask if he was kidding. Shaking his head, CENSORED held her face firmly between one hand as she looked up into his eyes. She gasped for air as he put his knee on her chest and lifted her face to the side by her chin. A wicked knife, stained a ruby red, appeared in his hand as he drove it up through her mouth and into her brain.

"I'm not too worried about what's on the other side. I just needed to break for a second from all those stairs."

Quenthz grumbled as he started follow behind the man. He had been surprised enough how CENSORED had managed to sneak through that air duct into the room.

=======

The flames dissipated too late for the guard and his buddy to realize that nothing was coming through that door. Valeria jerked the Rodian's shotgun up and when in surprise he pulled the trigger, his head disappeared. The guard looked up in time to have his face slammed into the ground with a knife stuck through his eyes.

[Hawkins Grime]

Quenthz II could hear it all happening on the other side of the door, in the antechamber to his office. He rubbed his temples with his forefingers, his clammy skin moving more than it probably should.

Who in the world was this Grime?! Who was Hawkins Grime that he would come with his own small army to ruin Quenthz II?! How does one man from a back water dren hole like Iziz come here to his own Hotel and cause so much chaos?! Quenthz II snarled and hit his fist on the data slate built into his desk. His fingers flew across the key pad that presented itself and a moment later, the wall behind Quenthz II came to life.

"So, heh-heh-heh, Que-ball, how much longer do you have?"

The small man spun around, surprised at how quickly the response had been and that somehow the voice had overrode his internal systems and switched to the main screen of its own accord. The big man's face took up the entire screen. His black hair had silver streaks and its shoulder length locks were tied up in the bandana that covered most of his forehead. His left eye was covered by an implant that deceptively appeared to be an eye patch. He was smoking a large cigar between his teeth and his smile sent a chill up Quenthz II' spine.

"He's close, Hydijjer, very, very close."