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| - Gands were easy to kill. The short stature and ubiquitous breathing apparatus made them suitable targets. Grab them from behind and cut off their air supply until they suffocate. As long as they were caught by surprise, they went down rather quickly. Some would try to hold their breath, only prolonging the inevitable. They would succumb eventually, however, losing consciousness and allowing Pepan to finish the job with a snapping twist of the head. He preferred to kill them quickly, as the amount of lactic acid that would build up in the meat from the lack of air would be considerably lower and thereby leaving the flesh in a more palatable condition. Though, Gands required more preparation prior to serving. The ammonia they breathed collected in the soft inner flesh, giving them the pungent smell and flavor of refresher cleaner. Thus, Pepan was carefully selecting the ingredients for an overnight marinade. Pepan glanced at the carcass on his workbench, stripped and washed, the limbs having been removed and stored away earlier. This one had decided to stay late at an office building in an affluent financial district before stupidly taking a short cut through a dark alley between two speeder parking decks. Pepan shadowed the Gand then grabbed it around the neck, applying clamps to the air hoses. It took a few moments to suffocate, Pepan restraining its arms and disconnecting the close-range audio unit built into the breath mask so that his prey could not scream. Its death throes reduced to a series of clicks and hisses, the Gand went down quietly. Pepan then stuffed the short body into a duffel and took it home. The belongings and breath mask were tossed in a barrel situated by the entry way. Those items will be dumped down a freighter shaft later. One of the benefits of living on Coruscant, Pepan decided, was the ease of garbage disposal. He had originally left his home planet of Kubindi on the encouragement of his friends and family to seek culinary fame at one of the galaxy's finest cooking schools. He had become something of a local legend in the student-run restaurant, his artful presentation and skill earning him the chance to enter into a regional cooking competition. Only, that vermin that claims to have an experienced palate denounced Pepan's dish. The only way such a creature would have good taste were for it to be served in a stew. His snout curled in satisfaction. Calliandro's kitchens had a new secret ingredient after his expulsion. Good eats indeed. Pepan measured and mixed the marinade, a strong acidic pepper aroma wafting from the large bowl. The meat had been scraped from the strong carapace earlier, rinsed thoroughly, brined with a wet cure, and placed on napkins to soak up any excess water. The brine had reduced the amount of ammonia to an extent, the marinade will ensure that the meat would be tender and flavorful. Pepan's mouth began to water at the thought of the masterpiece he would create the next morning. His resiplex would be saturated with the delectable aroma for weeks afterward. Putting the meat into the marinade, he stirred it to ensure even distribution, then covered the dish and put it into the conservator to soak overnight. Pausing to wash the brine marinade off his hands, Pepan crossed the room and turned on the holo-proj for some background noise while he finished processing his game. Unlike most insectoids, Gands could not be permitted to sit overnight without refrigeration as the soft meat would degrade due to the ammonia content. The smell would attach itself to Pepan's clothing. "—outside the district courthouse in Hirkenglade. The court heard testimony from the defendant and several high-profile witnesses concerning the allegations..." Apparently there were other more pressing goings-on in the area, Pepan surmised. At least this time the local news was reporting on a race with a back bone. A better use of the time. Pepan shrugged, sawing through the durable exoskeleton, his focus drifting away from the holo-proj and to his work. That sharp acrid stench once again permeated from the body, stinging his sensitive snout. How horrible the smell! Like the strong cleaning chemicals he used at his custodial job, only magnified and coupled with the sour odor of death. The sooner the meat was processed, brined, and packed away, the better. Pepan shrugged again. Such is the price you pay for what amounts to easy game. The unique flavor of the meat, almost marine in texture, was well worth the extra preparation. He could not get such interesting and exquisite taste from just any species. Perhaps the secret to the delicate undertones lay in the level of ammonia saturation... "—of the testimonies was the one given by Zuckuss, the bounty hunter who assisted in apprehending the suspect..." The movement of Pepan's hands stopped as his attention was seized. He knew of Zuckuss, one of the so-called "Executor Six." It was hard to find a being that wasn't aware of that Gand. How such an ugly, pesky creature could ascend to such heights of notoriety infuriated Pepan. The chubby little grub bore a striking resemblance more to the vermin he's crushed underfoot than to a lawless mercenary. It was criminal, the media coverage that was wasted on this insect. Like a maggot being lauded for devouring roadkill. And the profession, bounty hunting, garnering so much undue attention from the naive population. The scum of the universe. They had no marketable skills, nothing that would secure any type of profitable and socially-acceptable career, so they sell their services to the highest bidder. Essentially blaster-toting prostitutes. And yet, the youth of the galaxy directed their unwavering admiration toward these reckless scoundrels, the media's spotlights focused sharply as well. Pepan looked down at the body on the workbench, then returned his gaze to the holo-proj. As much as he despised Zuckuss and his undeserved reputation, he couldn't help but wonder just what that well-traveled creature would taste like. Tired and stringy, no doubt, the Gand had seen quite a bit of action. Though, with the right seasoning and properly tenderized, the meat could just as well be as succulent as the flesh that Pepan was tirelessly scraping free from the carapace. The high-profile nature of Zuckuss's lifestyle would most certainly be a factor, Pepan had noticed a jump in the quality of the meat compared to his vagrant prey. Perhaps, one day, he would get his chance to feast on the creature perched near the top of the social food chain. After all, Gands were quite easy to kill.
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