Tales Of The Bounty Hunters 8

The lights came back up and it was spice, all right. Fett scattered it across the top of the canister, and it lay there glowing in the light, twinkling and flickering as the spice was activated. Fett's left hand, hanging by his belt, touched a stud on the belt, releasing the neural toxin, and continued the motion, up to touch his right hand. He worked free the glove, stood there with his naked right hand held up in the air. "Do you mind if I smell it? Real spice has a sharp,
pleasant odor-" Voors glanced at his bodyguards. "If you insist."

The bodyguard nearest Fett blinked, shook his head and blinked again. "Substances that are not addictive," said Fett, "frequently lead to the misuse of substances that are. Doesn't that bother you?"
...
Voors took a deep breath and exploded. "No, it doesn't bother me! My conscience is just-" His mouth shut and then opened again, as though he intended to continue speaking. The bodyguard behind Fett was farthest away from the neural toxin; Fett spun, pulling his blaster free left-handed, and shot the man as he went for his weapon. The jolt took the bodyguard in the stomach; he staggered backward, still clutching his blaster, and Fett moved forward as the guard backpedaled, took aim and shot him a second time in the throat for good measure. He swung back to the spice, to Voors and the other bodyguard.

They weren't dead just yet, of course. They fell and Fett stood watching them; the pickups buried in his helmet were busy recording their death throes. Jabba would want to see the recording-this was one of the first times Fett had taken the Hutt's commission, but Fett understood Hutts; Jabba would pay a bonus for the actual images of his
enemies' deaths. He worked the glove back over his right hand; it was numb already, to the wrist, from exposure to the nerve gas he'd released.-Pg.312