There was only one way to buy or sell weapons on this hot little world: hit town with a big splash, rent the most audacious resort possible, throw a huge party with plenty of beauties, good food, and drink — and then wait for the money to come to you.
Which was exactly what was happening inside the magic castle this day. On the top floor of the tallest tower sat the man who had organized the weeklong bash. His name was Rexx VonRexx. Just eighty years old, he was small and thin, with a long, wispy beard, a head fall of braided hair, and a fetish about always wearing black. Suave, charming and, thanks to a reconstituted face, very handsome, he was also extremely rich. In fact, he was among the richest men in this part of the Galaxy.
Moving stolen weapons was VonRexx's specialty. He'd been buying war toys in bulk for the past twenty years, mostly from the enormous black markets farther down the Five Arm. These parties were the means by which VonRexx moved his merchandise, selling them to midlevel customers who could afford his high prices. He'd been laying groundwork for this gathering for weeks. Calling old friends, setting up meetings, replicating the food, the booze, the jamma, and the girls— spending money like water, which sent ripples around the mid-Five like a volcano orgy. That was the intention, of course. This bash was practically guaranteed to produce results.
It would also attract many guests, invited and otherwise.
Ruby Ridge Castle was forty-four stories high. There were nearly 600 holo-girls, 300 or so real females, several hundred potential customers and their entourages on hand with a small army of hired guards watching over everyone. Security throughout the fortress was tight, especially on the ground floor.
This was the hottest party in the mid-Five at the moment, but still, no one got through the front gate without a thorough scanning. Those not meeting a strict set of criteria were turned away and told not to return. If they refused, they were beaten to a pulp.
While most of the raucous partying took place on the lower floors, VonRexx only did business in the top suite during these events. He would stay up for days, schmoozing potential clients, getting them fed and oiled — and in the mood to do some buying. When things got slow or whenever the mood would strike him, he would let word filter down to the lower floors that he was in a selling mood again. And that prices were being reduced. This would bring an influx of moneymen up to the top suites, ready to do business. They had to stop at the forty-third floor first, though, where they would be checked over once again, this time by VonRexx's personal bodyguards. They would be scanned for weapons — ironically, none were allowed on the top floor — and their purses searched to make sure they were carrying real money.
Anyone passing this gauntlet would still have to wait until VonRexx himself approved a face check on them.
Only then would they be allowed into the forty-fourth floor.
The party in the castle had just begun its third day when word *ent through the building that VonRexx was discounting igain.
As predicted, this brought a fresh wave of buyers to the huge penthouse, leaving behind the sinful pleasures of the lower floors. Those cleared by security began drifting into ±e spacious top suite. The lights here were always low, the conversations hushed. With star-jazz music tinkling from everywhere, it was more sophisticated, more mysterious. As always, VonRexx could be found reclining on a large divan in.he far corner of the room, a location from which he could see just about everybody and everything.
He was surrounded not m security men but by a battalion of absolutely gorgeous ¦ omen. It was understood that anyone entering the room had to acknowledge VonRexx with a slight bow or a tip of the hat. Like tribute to a king, it was important to remember just who was paying the bill for all this. Plus, VonRexx loved being the center of attention.
He'd been tipped by his security men that three arms buyers from the nearby system of Slingerlands 7 were on their way op. This was good news. Though the Slingers were usually nolent and volatile individuals, they always bought the most expensive stuff, such as e-mines, sonic torpedoes, and thermo-erenades. And they always carried real money. No chits; no credit sales for them. They were VonRexx's kind of customer.
He saw them coming. Deep Durole uniforms, hieh black boots, lots of tattoos. The three Stingers pushed through the crowd by the door and started making their way across the dark, congested room.
Once the trio was within twenty feet of him, VonRexx waved half of his girls away, clearing a path for the three men to approach. But oddly, they did not go to him. Instead, they veered off for the opposite corner of the room, where a very tight circle of party goers had formed without VonRexx realizing it.
Mystified, he climbed off the couch and wandered over. Music was playing, guests were imbibing, and sexual antics were quietly going on throughout the room — yet an entirely different thing was happening over here. True, the penthouse was dark and crowded, and VonRexx couldn't keep his eyes everywhere at once. But he was surprised he'd missed this.
About a dozen well-known arms dealers were standing around a huge individual under a bare light in the corner. VonRexx himself had OK'd everyone who'd been allowed into the castle's top suite. He could not recall clearing someone this large to pass through. The man had his back to him; VonRexx could only see the faces of those gathered around. They all looked fascinated. Whatever this man was saying to them, he seemed to have put them in a trance.
Two of the arms dealers were having a particularly hushed conversation with the mystery man. Then came a round of handshakes and hugs, and the two men departed. They walked by VonRexx without giving him so much as a nod and hurried out the door. Strangely, each man had a dab of oil on his forehead.
Finally, VonRexx moved close enough to see the big man's face. He was shocked.
He knew him. He was one of his old competitors.
His name was Zarex Red.
Zarex had once been very famous in this part of the Galaxy. A rare combination of gunrunner and explorer, he had specialized in getting weapons to people who were in desperate need of firepower and willing to pay his premium prices. In turn, he used his profits to explore places so deep in the Five Arm, few people ever dared to venture to them. Of late, though, the rumors had it that Zarex was either dead, lost among the stars, or had taken up with a band of rogues who were trying the impossible: the overthrow of the Fourth Empire.
Which was why VonRexx was so surprised to see him here now, a very large, uninvited guest. How had he made it past security? How was it that he could so cavalierly draw the attention of the unsavory weapons dealers and rivet them so? VonRexx studied him from afar, fascinated that so many of his potential customers were hanging on Zarex's every word. The huge ex-explorer was charismatic, he supposed. But he'd never seen him draw a crowd quite like this.
He looked different, too. To VonRexx's eyes, Zarex seemed bigger, if that was possible. More muscles, more height, but there was also a strange glow about him, a halo of sorts around his head. This aura was not the greenish haze that could be seen trailing someone who'd spent a lot of time crashing stars. This was something else entirely.
VonRexx made sure Zarex did not see him, hiding himself in the dark crowd of holo-girls and guests.
The man's presence here was a mystery but also an opportunity. His former dual-occupation had made Zarex wealthy by saving some of the Five Arm's most famous freedom fighters. But it had also made him some big-time enemies as well. Gunrunner and explorer, Zarex was also a wanted man — and not just by the Empire.