Star Wars - Love is a Warm Blaster - Unpublished by Paul Danner

The clean-cut young man stepped out of Loose Cannon Arms, carrying a small package tucked under his arm. His nondescript face blended seamlessly in the crowd of people wandering one of Coruscant’s nearly endless shopping districts. No one even spared a second glance when he ducked into a small service alley and began speaking to the shadows. “He’s in there. You good to go?”
    A quick check of the hold-out tucked away in her waistband told her the small blaster was fully charged. She knew the feeling well. Daniera Karmony took a calming breath, letting the tension slip from her body. She smiled brilliantly at Cabe. “Good to go.”
    “The General’s counting on you.” Cabe paused and touched Daniera’s shoulder. “We all are. Just be careful. He used to be one of us, but nobody knows why the man left. Maybe not even Cracken. His service records are sealed at the highest levels.”
    She nodded gravely and prepared to go shopping…

    “Can I help you?”
    Daniera looked up from the display of blaster carbines that stretched across the back wall of Loose Cannon Arms. The young woman’s gaze casually traversed rack after rack of glistening black weaponry and finally came to rest on the older man sitting behind the counter. The proprietor of the Cannon studied Daniera with a bemused little grin as he casually sipped from a steaming mug.
    “Actually, I’m just looking around,” she said with a shrug. “Thanks anyway.” She studied him with a peripheral glance. On second thought, he didn’t seem advanced in age so much as spirit. His were eyes that had seen more than a lifetime’s worth. But there was also something else there… a glimmer even the heavy weight of time could not diminish.
    The man nodded serenely. “Well, you just let me know if you
    need anything, hon.” The grin contorted into something more akin to a smirk as he took another drink. “I proudly offer a 20 percent discount to nerfs.”
    Daniera was staring at him now. “Excuse me?”
    “Oh. Sorry. Nerfs… my preferred acronym for operatives of the New Republic Security Force.” He flashed a brilliant smile. “No offense intended, of course.”
    “I have no idea what—” Daniera paused, then shook her head. “How did you know?”
    “Don’t feel bad, sweets. It isn’t that obvious, unless you know what to look for.”
    “Such as?”
    “It’s bad business to give away trade secrets.” He put the mug down. “That’s why I sell customized weapons… and not the blueprints.”
    Daniera leaned on the transparisteel counter. “Humor me.”
    The man sighed with feigned reluctance for a moment. “Well, I don’t get many female browsers in here and the few who do come by usually get caught up with the junk in those cases,” he said, indicating the one she was leaning on. “Cutesy little palm blasters, hold-outs with pearl lacquer finish that fit comfortably in the handbag, that sort of thing.”
    Daniera started to protest, but he cut her off before she could get out a single syllable. “That’s all fact by the way, free of sexist opinion. Anyway, you were eyeing the good stuff on the back wall, appreciating some of my better work, and that means you’re not a casual enthusiast. Then there’s that bulge in your jacket that,” he flashed the grin again, “assuming no odd physical abnormalities, looks to me just like a BlasTech CMP 489 pistol—flavor of the moment for New Republic Security.”
    Daniera folded her arms across her chest. “You’re pretty good, but—”
    He held up a hand. “You didn’t let me finish… however, you’re a bit too much of a looker for standard Security or even SpecForce, so my guess would be NR1. I know how that old bantha Cracken loves to throw folks a curve by utilizing attractive women…” After a final, triumphant sip from his mug, he added, “Well, at least when their mouths aren’t dangling open like that. Kind of subtracts from the enchantress equation.” He sat back in the