A Simple Question

[IsawaMitaka]

He awoke in complete darkness. After a second or two of confusion, he realized he was blind-folded. He tried to stand, but his hands and feet were held fast by binders. He heard movement.

 

"My lord, he's awake." The blind-fold was removed with about as much care and attention as you would give a loose tooth in the mouth of a toddler. The lights in the room blinded him for a moment. As his eyes adjusted, he could make out a shape walking towards him.

 

"Who..." His voice cracked. He tried clearing his throat, to no avail.

 

"Who am I?" A woman. Her voice held a hint of Corellian amid a strong Imperial accent. "You may call me Lord Hamashko."

 

Lord? He blinked away the last of the blurriness from his eyes. She was a Zabrak, with a face so heavily tattooed, her skin looked black. Something in her eyes frightened him, and he looked down. That's when he noticed the lightsaber at her waist.

 

A Sith! His heart began pounding in his chest. His mind raced, trying to think of why a Sith would want him. "Please," he begged. "Don't hurt me! What ever you want, it's yours!"

 

Hamashko laughed. "Oh, my dear Azar, of course I won't hurt you."

 

Now, he was really terrified. She knew his name! "Please, I'm just a simple trader."

 

"I know exactly what you are." She traced a finger down his cheek. "Officially, you are a trader of rare, and extremely over-priced, alcoholic beverages to elitist snobs on Republic worlds. Unofficially, you're a black market dealer who would sell his own mother if the price were right. Through intermediaries, you have also provided me with some of the most delicious slaves from a half-dozen different worlds."

 

She's a customer, Azar thought. A happy one, from the sounds of it. I can deal with this. He took a deep breath, and put on his best salesman voice. His voice only shook a little. "How may I serve you today, my Lord?"

 

She clapped her hands and giggled like a schoolgirl. "Oh, I do so love someone who is willing to cooperate! Now, then, I am going to ask you a question," she replied. "If you answer honestly, I will reward you with enough credits to buy a new ship."

 

He smiled. "My Lord, I will endeavour to help you in any way I can."

 

"I know how much you enjoy the finer things in life, so I know you will." Her smile evaporated like ice on Tattooine. "If your answer does not please me, however..." She raised a hand, lightning crackling between her fingers. "...I will bring in your wife and two daughters. I will torture them, in front of you, for three days. After that, I will kill your wife, slowly, then infect your daughters with the Rakghoul plague, and leave you in here with them. Am I clear?"

 

Azar didn't trust his voice anymore. He just nodded.

 

"Excellent," she sneered. Just as suddenly as it vanished, her smile returned. "Now, then, where is the best restaurant on Nar Shaddaa?"

 

Azar began to sob.