Not even the current criminal landscape changes could stop the excitement from the Mos Espa Pod-Racing Championship.
The town was overflowing with visitors from all around Tatooine, and even some other planets. The streets were crowded, and commerce was flourishing.
It also meant thieves and pickpockets had come out in number. Rumor snatched a hand that had been reaching for his pockets by the wrist, and glared at the offender.
"Scurry along."
Because it was just a kid, he let her go just with that. Otherwise, he would have slapped the thief silly.
The girl didn't waste a second into darting away like a terrorized small animal, and Rumor shook his head. That had been his life for many years.
Raising his head, he looked at the entrance to the Mos Espa Grand Arena. It looked a lot like a football stadium from Earth, but about 10 times bigger.
Once inside, it was even more spectacular. Rows upon rows of seats, with aliens of all sizes, shapes, and colors occupying them. There had to be at least a hundred thousand people inside already, and more were flooding in every minute.
Rumor allowed himself a couple minutes to just take it all in. It was unlikely he would see a sight like it again.
The racers and their teams were already down in the tracks, conducting last minute preparations and repairs.
That included Anakin Skywalker and his mechanics team - his mother, Qui-Gon Jinn, Padmé, Jar Jar Binks, R2-D2, an android who could only be C-3PO, and couple of his friends.
The Jedi turned his head, and Rumor has the distinct impression that, despite the distance and the crowd, Qui-Gon Jinn was looking right at him.
He hadn't met the Jedi or any of the storyline characters since their talk 2 days ago. His time had mostly been spent scouting the Grand Arena in preparation for his plan, and wandering around Mos Espa looking for useful items he could buy.
He hadn't found much except some consumables and miscellaneous stuff. The Mind didn't seen keen on handing anything over that wasn't fought for.
Twice, he had been attacked by bounty hunters, earning him a couple hundred wupiupis and a handful of reputation points, which had pushed him to Well-known with the Hutt Cartel, and to the brink of Reputable with their faction in Mos Espa.
But other than that, it had been fairly peaceful. Eating, sleeping, strolling. Tatooine's 34 hours days left him with a lot of free time.
But that peace would soon end. He nodded to Qui-Gon Jinn, even if the Jedi couldn't see it, and turned around. Instead of making his way to the bleachers like the vast majority of the crowd, he joined the small trickle of people going backstage - the workers, cleaners, vendors, and more.
TING!
His [ Bounty Tracker ] bipped for the nth time today, and Rumor ignored it. With so many people coming to watch the race, there were hundreds of wanted men and women amongst the crowd.
Another day, he might have been interested. Bounties seemed to be a good way to get money and loot at the same time. But the tracker only told him there was someone in the nearby area with a price on their heads. Currently, that area covered tens of thousands of people. Even with the photo and short description of their abilities, it was like searching for a needle in a haystack.
And Rumor had bigger fish to fry. Having donned his headgear and dusty-yellow robes, he looked just like any of the other hundreds of people in the backstage area. Even telling his species was hard.
Pushing past the bustling workers, he followed the signs that pointed to the VIP boxes. He had already been here yesterday to scout the area, so the layout was familiar.
TING!
His [ Bounty Tracker ] bipped again, and, on a whim, Rumor checked it. A predatory smile curled on his lips.
Valemerin had just entered the arena.
[ 'The Scourge' Valemerin - Leader of Mos Espa's Krayt Dragon Gang ]
[ Extremely dangerous. Favors close combat. Considered almost a master with bladed weapons. Approach with caution. ]
[ Reward: 180.000 wupiupis ]
That was the beauty of bounties in the Star Wars universe. Anyone could put one up, as long as they deposited the money for it with their local hunter's guild office. What crime they committed or anything else? Didn't matter.
The Faleen on the photo was bald, with a Ling scar running down the length of his face. His eyes were fierce, and even though it was just a head-shot, you could tell he was huge.
Valemerin wasn't the only one. Soon, Bounty notifications for all the outlaws in the VIP section started to pop up. Jabba the Hutt was a whooping 550.000.000 wupiupis, not that anyone would be bold or crazy enough to try to claim it anywhere in the Tatoo System.
Slipping away from the main throng of workers, Rumor entered a side corridor that led to the kitchens. He was about to slip inside when he saw something that gave him pause.
Where yesterday there were only closed doors, today two aliens were standing on either side of them, clearly standing guard. One of them was a Weequay who stared down every cook and waiter who came and went with fierce intensity.
The other was a Gamorrean, the green-skinned, pig-like alien species. That left no doubt about who their employer was.
The question was, what were Hutt Cartel members doing standing guard outside the kitchens?
The answer was as annoying as it was obvious. Jabba the Hutt was here today, along with any number of his brethren. To anyone who wanted to kill Jabba but couldn't get past the defenses in his palace, this was a golden chance. Poisoning his food would be a safe way to do it, although it was debatable what kind of poison would work on the criminal overlord.
That threw a wrench in his plans. Although he had no intentions of going anywhere near Jabba, the Weequay was checking everyone. And unlike the Krayt Dragon Gang's thugs, although the system described those two as low-level members of the Hutt Cartel, each of them had higher stats than enforcers of Valemerin's organization.
That only reinforced Rumor's conviction that he was far from prepared to mess with the mightier powers of this world. If the Hutt Cartel was already an unsurpassable wall for the him of now, he could only imagine what trying to fight the Republic, Separatists, or the Jedi Order would be like.
Oddly enough, the thought didn't fill him with fear, but rather a growing feeling of anticipation for the day he is able to face all those behemoths on his own.
For now, however, that feeling would stay just that: a feeling. He turned around and left the kitchen area, not noticing the suspicious glare the Weequay gave him.
Stopping at a random corridor to think, he closed his eyes and outlined the path from the kitchen to the VIP rooms. He would have to make his move while the dishes were on the way.
"Hey, you! What are you doing here?"
Opening his eyes, Rumor saw the Hutt Cartel members standing in front of him, fingers tapping the handle of his blaster, his posture tense.
For a moment, Rumor stood shock still. He hadn't heard the Weequay approach. Then his brain started turning as the alien narrowed his eyes, his fingers now curling around his blaster.
"I'm just-"
"He knows what he is doing. There is nothing suspicious here."
The Weequay's eyes glazed over as a calm voice fluttered from the side, and Rumor's eyes widened when he saw Qui-Gon Jinn standing there, waving his fingers in the classic Jedi mind trick.
"He knows what he is doing. There is nothing suspicious here."
The cartel member repeated Qui-Gon Jinn's words in a dispassionate mumble, before promptly turning around and leaving.
Rumor, meanwhile, stared at Qui-Gon Jinn. The Jedi stared back. The tester broke first.
"Thanks. But, why are you back here?"
Not that he wasn't grateful. But there should be no reason for the Jedi to be backstage, instead of out in the track helping Anakin.
"I mentioned seeing you to my companion, and she was worried you might do something stupid. It looks like she was right."
Rumor couldn't even contest the jab. But his mind was on Qui-Gon Jinn's first sentence.
By companion, he had to mean Padmé Amidala. But why would she be worried about him? Was that the power of a relationship level of Liked?
If so, he might have to work harder to achieve it in future incursions. If just Liked was enough to have someone sent a main storyline character to check on your well-being, what would Respected do?
"Please tell her thanks for me. That would have been... Annoying if you didn't send him away. Also... Nice mind tricks."
Qui-Gon Jinn smiled, and inclined his head in acknowledgment.
"I have to be back before the race starts. But that stupid thing you are about to do, hopefully it doesn't involve the Hutt Cartel?"
"No, that was an unfortunate happenstance. I'm here to kill Valemerin, leader of the Krayt Dragon Gang."
Rumor didn't try to hide it. Nor was he surprised when by Qui-Gon Jinn's complete lack of reaction to his admittance. For all Jedis were known as peacekeepers, they weren't peaceful.
"I see. May I ask why? You will be leaving with us tomorrow, never to return to Tatooine as you yourself said."
Rumor chuckled.
"Because I'm greedy and petty. I don't like to leave business unfinished. Especially when there's still more to gain from it."
[ Your relationship with main storyline character Qui-Gon Jinn has decreased to Neutral (90/1.000). ]
Oof! A whole 30 points at once. As expected, such an agressive stance wasn't welcomed by most Jedis.
But it was okay. Rumor never intended for his relationship with Qui-Gon Jinn to go anywhere. As long as it wasn't negative, he didn't mind what happened to it.
"Do as you please. I don't expect I will be able to interfere again, so be careful."
Rumor couldn't tell of Qui-Gon Jinn's tone was frostier than normal or not. But as he watched the Jedi's back when he walked away, he felt quite sure he wasn't his favorite person at the moment.
Shaking his head, Rumor kept walking down the corridor, in the opposite direction of where Qui-Gon Jinn had gone. His objective: a storage room about halfway between the kitchens and the spectator stands.
Slipping inside the room, he left the door open just a fraction. Then he waited.
The sheer of the crowd when the race started was tremendous. Dust fell from the ceiling from all the stomping and whatnot each time a competitor did some impressive maneuver or crashed spectacularly.
Even then, Rumor waited. Workers and waiters passed through and from every couple minutes, but he let them go.
Finally, after nearly an hour, he felt enough time had passed. The race would be ending soon, with Anakin's win - he had to remember to collect his winnings later - and most everyone would be either focused on it, drunk out of their minds, or both.
The next time a lone waiter passed by his hideout, holding four trays - one for each hand the alien had, Rumor stepped out in front of him, and pressed his knife to his chin.
"Careful. Don't wanna waste all that good food now, do we?"
The waiter swallowed and nodded. Under the threat of Rumor's very sharp blade, he entered the storage room.
"Now put down the trays, and don't scream. Don't worry, I don't want to hurt you. I simply need your uniform to impersonate you so I can get to the one I do want to hurt."
It said a lot about Tatooine that that actually calmed down the poor waiter. He didn't make a sound, and took of his clothes on his own without even needing to be prompted.
"You understand I need to bind and gag you, right? You have been very cooperative, but I can't risk it."
The alien looked pained, but nodded. That was better than either of the others options - Rumor knocking him out or killing him.
Three minutes later, Rumor was wearing a too-big waiter's vest with an extra pair of arm holes, and carrying a singular trait of food. Food to which he had added a very special secret ingredient.
Finding the VIP box he was looking for was easy. After knocking on the door, he entered while politely keeping his head bowed, like a good, subservient waiter who didn't want to get in the line of sight of all the criminals inside.
Even them, his gaze was trained on one of them with unwavering aim. A bald Faleen who seemed pissed at everyone and everything.
Valemerin didn't even look at him when he put down the tray next to him and took off the cover. He just grabbed the dish on it, some kind of crustacean, with his bare hands and bit into it.
Rumor had to hold back a laugh. He didn't know who had pissed Valemerin so much, but he would have to thank them. It had made his life just that much easier.
Bowing again to keep his face hidden, he walked backwards until he exited the room. Closing the door behind him, Rumor revealed the grin he had been hiding.
Phase 1 complete.
------------------------
A few hours earlier.
Valemerin scowled as he entered the VIP room to find the leaders of both of his rival groups already there, chatting up Grippa. Neither bothered to hide their smirks when they looked up from their conversation.
"Ah, Valemerin! How are you doing, old friend?"
"Jump in front of a Banta and die."
He didn't have the patience for word games today. He knew everyone in the room couldn't wait to backstab him.
"Grippa, I need to talk to you."
Clearing the distance between them in three large strides, the giant Faleen stood several heads above the Hutt. But Grippa, slobbering like a dog, simply waved her hand in dismissal.
"Later, later. Today, we are here to enjoy the race, Valemerin. Soon I will have to leave to meet with His Eminence Jabba, and I would rather not bore him with work on what is to be a festive day."
Valemerin gritted his teeth. So she didn't even plan to hear him out? His hand itched to pull out his machete and carve the fat slug like she was a womp rat.
But he held back. Today wasn't the day to fall out with the Hutt Cartel. Soon, but not today.
Plopping down on a chair away from the conniving trio, he angrily glared at the race track and competitors below.
"Thinking about placing a bet, Valemerin? Maybe you will win something to help with rebuilding your Krayt Dragon Gang."
"I say, it's about time you get a win, Valemerin. It has been so long, you must be feeling dreadfully unlucky."
The leader of the Agellum Gang, a blue-skinned female alien, smiled mockingly. The Elom leader of the Makeh Syndicate followed with another metaphorical stab. Valemerin's grip nearly crushed the arms of his chair.
He refused to fall to their provocations, and kept his silence throughout the entire start of the race by drinking and eating.
Shortly after the race started, Grippa left to go watch with Jabba, leaving only Valemerin and his two rivals in the room.
Just by their glances, he knew they were talking about him. Probably exchanging tips on how to kick him while he was down.
Bastards.
Occupied with being angry at the world, he didn't even glance at the waiter who brought over the next serving. Just grabbed it and started eating, washing everything down with his fifth drink in two hours.