Tatooine.

Okay, this place sucks sand lice off the backside of a Mechonian slop hog. I have never liked this planet, though some would say this is the place for "smugglers" to find good work.

Good work? Bring this here, bring this there, because you know, I am too coward to do it myself, and the chances of you actually succeeding are slim because as soon as you leave planet I am sending a dozen bushwhacking assassins up your X5 Freighter's exhaust drive to slit your throat so you can't sell the strange worthless to anyone but me item to someone else who would have no clue how it works but would kill you if you didn't sell it to them, Tatooine.

So the next question is how did I end up here?

Long story, and no, that is not a prelude to sitting here for the next four hours telling you a story that at any other time would bore the piss right out of me, much less you. Let us just say that smuggling women across the known galaxy never seems to pay well enough for the problems they entail. Besides, who, just looking at them, would have thought them the masculine form of their species? I tell you, they looked like true goddesses to me. They punch like a Malamar Hit mule though. The husky voice should have given it away.

X5's are not made like they use to be. Okay, truth be told, they may be, but when you are navigating with a broken jaw and a cargo of dead "goddesses" your landing can be a bit off. A long walk through a hot desert filled with Jawa's and desert people does not make life much better. What passes for a clinic here would hardly pass for a cheap rate massage parlor anywhere else, on any other planet, and believe me, I have seen plenty of them. Yet, here I am.

I think it has been only a few weeks. Who can tell though? No one keeps good track of time here. No one. Not even the ones that should be keeping good track of time here. You have to pay for any little bit of information concerning anything that is happening anywhere else except in that small spot you are actually standing. That is why it is so easy to disappear here. Well, that and all of the galaxies unsavory beedy eyes following you around hoping that maybe you are the one that has the biggest price tag in their life time on your head. Trust me, I know about that, been there, done that. Another long story I suppose.

Did I mention I hate Tatooine?

Crotch sand. This place is full of it. What is that you ask? Ever notice when the scums enter a tavern, they leg shake until they are standing in a pile of sand? Where do you think that sand just fell from? This place stinks of it.

And so here we are. You thought to enter this rag tag hole in the wall latrine they try to pass for a high price room and gut poke me with a rusty fruit peeler? You must be a local, if there is such a thing. When you meet whatever god or devil you meet in the after life, the force or whatever crap they call it, let them know Luke Minhere sent you, riding a one way sound suppressed blaster train.

The inn keeper looked up hearing a thud on the floor, his small brain wondering which body actually hit the floor, his ceiling.

Anchorhead

Tatooine

"Nasty bit of business you had last night," the inn keeper called, as Luke passed by. He eyed the man out of the corner of his eye for but a moment, then approached with a handsome smile.

"You might say that," Luke responded, and the inn keeper was taken a bit back at his quick approach to the counter. One look told the man that this smuggler was not just a captain of a freighter. Luke was a very handsome man, with an alarming smile that would put anyone off their guard, but, more than that, his hands seemed to naturally dangle just within reach of the duel pistols that hung on his belt.

The old man was not going to be taken from his own mission here. He knew a body hit the floor the night before, and truth be told he actually figured it was the smuggler that was killed. Also, truth be told, he was the one that told Na'neeno exactly which room this smuggler was in. It paid little more than a tip, but the handsome, well dressed captain before him, was in all probability, not going to be a returning client anyway. If he made it off the planet in one piece, he seemed too much of a dandy to fair long in such a hostile climate.

"Hey, look. I know you gots problems up there, and I know you gots some trash that needs taking out. I tell you what, I can do just that, with no one the wiser. I got some Horkin Hogs I keep just outside of the town that love the taste of, well, anything I toss in at 'em, if you know what I am saying."

Luke smiled, and nodded a bit. He was not new at this, not at all. Smuggling is a dangerous business, and the higher your reputation builds, the bigger the jobs you get. The bigger the job, the more dangerous the job. The more dangerous the job, the more people want to take what cargo you have. Luke, like most smugglers, was always looking for that one final pay day that he could retire on. Of course, like most others, that day always seemed to elude him. Instead of the pay day, he many times over had to simply last the day, and get out of the planetary system in one piece.

Luke tossed some coin on the counter with a nod, though his smile was no longer plastered on his face. It was a stern look of understanding, a look that says don't double cross me.

The only problem was the amount on the counter was not near what the job was worth. The keeper began to shake his head, but Luke leaned in close.

"Half now, half when I return and see the job is nice and tidy and clean," he offered, patting the old man on the shoulder.

The inn keeper smiled a gapped tooth smile. The worse that could happen was the rogue smuggler would not return, and he would only have half pay, and fat hogs. That was not a bad gamble, considering what planet he was on. He also had information to sell, concerning the captain, if he needed to make up the difference.

Ria watched as the man walked up to the bar, his hands always seem to glide near his duel blasters, yet never quite looking like he had any concerns. Most would not even notice such discreet actions, but Ria was trained just for that. He wore a white frilled shirt under a leather vest, though there was something about both that said they were more than just for looks.

He was trim, though not skinny.

He looked fit.

His dark eyes glided across the room as he turned about, a drink in hand, pushed slightly to his lips. No, he would not drink much, he would ever so lightly sip as he scanned the room. The man was looking for something, or someone. Ria looked down quickly at her own drink, at her own table, as those eyes glided toward her. She could feel them wash over her, and she ever so lightly flushed.

Contain yourself, Ria. You are a professional, and this is not like you at all.

Ria looked up, but not at the man. She looked to the door, scanning the entire room with her peripheral vision. She was good at what she did. Some called her a spy. Others called her an assassin. No one quite knew what she did, for sure. No one truly trusted her, but they hired her none the less.

She was sent to simply watch the rogue smuggler. He was known as such, because no one ever really knew what he was up to. Accidents would seem like well prepared planning to some, his well prepared plans seemed like accidents to others. He was an intriguing figure, and as far as Ria knew, he had no idea who all had interests in him. There was, as always, a bigger plot, and bigger schemes, than most of the souls in the galaxy knew. This smuggler was no different from the rest, in that aspect. He was another handsome face, that was good with his guns, and good with a ship. He was, however, luckier than most. This was agreed upon by the string pullers.

Ria's eyes darted to the smuggler as one of the tavern wenches approached him. She was slim waisted, and big busted. The kind that most of the scoundrels went for, and even looked for, when they entered this, or any tavern. Her blouse was cut just enough to give the man a look, without showing anything.

Of course the smuggler was pleased, she was pleasing enough to the eye. Ria was too far away to catch the conversation, but it had nothing to do with her business, she was sure of it. She watched as the smuggler's hand glided to her waist momentarily, and his handsome smile shine. She whispered something into his ear, and he nodded, accepting a kiss on the cheek. She was inviting him to her room. She probably would not even charge the handsome man. It was for her own pleasures.

A sense of relief went over Ria as the woman walked away, as she caught the look on the smuggler's face. The grin told her he would not be taking her up on the offer.

Why Ria was so relieved she did not know. Probably because any distraction would only prolong her own mission. The man crash landed somewhere in the desert. The cargo that he knew he carried was not important, but there was a holo-program that was tucked somewhere in his ship that she needed to retrieve. She followed him across many star systems, always watching from the shadows to insure he made it to his destination. He did, but not quite as planned. Not as far as her clients knew anyway. Who really knew the mind of Luke Minhere?

Ria went back to her drink, but could see that Luke was walking in her direction. It did not concern her, even if he did talk to her. It happened. She was not a bad looking woman herself, though far from being built like the bar wench. She knew Luke was a flirt. She watched him enough to know that.

She did not guess what he really walked over there for.

"You seem to keep an eye on things around here," he said, as he slid into the booth across from her.

Ria looked up, but offered no explanation, and no emotion. She could play the game better than anyone, and she knew it.

"Anyway," Luke said, a smile forming on his lips, " I need a guide".

Well this was sure a strange turn of events, Ria thought to herself.

Deserts of Tatooine

The sand swirled about them as the desert winds kicked up. Ria wondered how she got herself into such a mess. She did not have to wonder long, as her eyes scanned over to the handsome rogue smuggler. His normal smile was gone, and he now wore a deep frown.

"Keep your head down," he called, as he peeped out from their rocky cover.

Ria just rolled her eyes. She was trained for this.

Rock shattered near the rogue's head, and he quickly ducked back down.

"Tusken Raiders, Sand People," he said, matter of factly. She was already well aware of the Ghorfa being out there. She fought them before, but she was better armed and had soldiers with her at the time.

"I am well aware of who and what they are, " she said, a bit of frustration in her voice.

"You are the guide," Luke offered, with a bit of sarcasm. He was well aware that she was not the guide she had proclaimed to be. It was a matter of circumstances that were beyond her control that clued him in. Who would have ever thought she would have run into Snee'Rhada on Tatooine, much less in Mos Eisley. He had drawn the ere of the Hutt as well as the Republic. That was due to a job she did a couple of years back, and while the Republic dropped the ball on capturing Snee, he was forced to flee to parts unknown.

"Give me back my blasters and we can be done with these creatures," Ria called, a look of determination in her own eyes.

Luke looked Ria over a moment, a smile slightly perking up the side of his mouth. So she was an agent working for the Republic. Had it not been for the assassin trying his hand at Ria, Luke would have ignorantly allowed her to lead him into giving up his cargo, that of which he had no idea he was carrying.

While Luke was gone to relieve himself back at the cantina, much had apparently happened. He walked out of the men's room to find an alien creature pointing a blaster at his "new guide". The thing was going on in a very metallic voice, obviously a device to translate from some unknown language to human, about Ria being an agent for the Republic, being a double crosser, and how he down right really disliked her. He was also taking pleasure in making her squirm, though he had little idea she was working her blaster out of it's holster and pointing the business end at his crotch.

Luke saved the assassin from losing his manhood, if that was where he kept his manhood, and indeed, if he...it, was even a male. It was furry, long armed, and stood only about 5'05, maybe 5'02 once Luke's blaster shaved off part of it's hairy head.

Ria looked to Luke quickly as the creature dropped, obvious relief in her eyes, until she saw the smoking blaster pointed at her own head.

No one interfered as Luke relieved her of her blasters, and no one tried to stop them as he walked her out of the place.

Ria knew Luke heard what the assassin said, and no matter of quick talking was going to change the rogue smugglers doubt of her, and her intentions. She just as soon play it out, and form a plan as they tried to retrieve his ship from the grip of the desert. She told him about the cargo on his ship, and that only she knew where to find it. No scanning would locate it, no search would profit him.

"However, I am more than willing to share my reward with you Luke. I am not an assassin and you are not a target. The Republic has no interest in you, for that matter, just your cargo," Ria explained.

"How nice. So you are not a guide, yet you were willing to trapes me out into the desert in hopes to what, somehow stumble across my ship?" Luke eyed her as they stood in the shadows of the buildings just outside of the watering hole. The heat was tremendous, and had been for a long time since the Rakatine bombarded Tatooine into a desert.

"I have maps," she said, producing a square contraption that formed a 3D digital lay out of the land. "And you have some kind of an idea of where you crash landed. We wont get lost, and we may both get rich."

Now she was talking in a language Luke understood.

Yet, now they were no longer considering their possible riches, they were only considering how to stay alive. The Desert People had apparently found his ship before they did, and they were swarming all over it. Luke was able to keep his cool for only a moment, until he watched as one of the Sand People jabbed at his baby with some archaic weapon. It would not harm the ship, but the thought of those filthy creatures laying a hand on her was more than the rogue smuggler could take. The creature fell, dead before it hit the sand, after a well placed shot exploded it's chest.

Being swarmed on by the Raiders did not adequately describe what occurred next. Rifle blasts exploded the rock formation around them, as the two dove for cover.

"I give you your blasters, you blast me while I am tending to the Tusken Raiders. I am not fool," Luke said as he returned fire. He was careful to only fire a short burst, not giving the Sand People the time to aim at him.

"To what profit would I kill you for? I kill you, and end up back in the same situation we are in anyway, with only me against them. I like better odds like anyone else, Minhere."

Luke thought it over. She would actually also be in the same situation as the Sand People, unable to open up the hatch to the Cargo Ship. It only responded to him.

"You best not even look like you will point those blasters at me," he said, and tossed her back her own weapons.

Now Ria felt better. Few were better with hand weapons than she was, and she began to show the rogue smuggler just how good she was as Raider after Raider began to fall.

Luke smiled a handsome smile. Now this was going to be fun.

She stood staring out of the glass, her mechanical eyes seeing more than most. In fact, most did not know she had mechanical eyes at all, most did not know that there was much of her that was cyborg. She kept it hidden, for what reason, none could really fathom. She liked being an icon of health, and spirituality, to the people of Coronet City.

When the Empire swept through it, and removed it from Republic hands, many looked for a bright light, mixed within the darkness.

Madam Ulia gave them that bright light. She was a smile to the down trodden, and a hand to the fallen, much as she had been for a half of a century. Little did the people know, she was not everything she pretended to be.

"Madam, I have a report from our agent on Tatooine," said the mechanical voice. The C1p0 Digital was a rare droid, and functioned perfectly with no emotion chip attached, like the other models. Ulia did not like conversations with droids that amounted to nothing but facts and percentages. There was far more to life than that.

"Engage the hologram, droid," she said, and walked back to her desk. She liked having her office where she could look out over the streets, and watch the conflict of ants as the different factions quarreled.

A pleasant looking 3D image appeared of Ria, the agent she sent to track the smuggler.

"Madam, I have followed the smuggler to Tatooine, but it appeared for some odd reason he has crashed his ship in the desert. I am monitoring him, and will engage him soon, as it appears he is seeking a guide. The cybernetic unlife's are all offline, and may no longer be serviceable, according to my tracking chip. While I indeed know the where a bouts of the ship, I will need the smuggler to open the hatch. I will report my findings to you when I have located the cargo, Ria out."

Ria was such a good Republic Agent, though she did not know that this time she was benefiting the marvelous Empire, and it's Sith leaders. Ulia truly did not care who won the conflict, indeed, it was her way to stay neutral, and assist whichever she felt would provide the funds.

"Establish a connection with Ghor," she told the droid, and it immediately began the process.

"Heru'ghor here, what news have you for me Ulia?"

"Ahh, the Sith Lord of Dread," she chuckled at the title, "I have things under control with the smuggler Luke Minhere. My agent will have the item you seek soon."

Ghor nodded, and paused for a moment.

"You will be rewarded when the item is in my hand, Ulia, and not before," he finally said.

"As always," she finished, and then waved off the connection with no further words. Had she not done so quickly, it would have been her staring at a blank hologram, instead of Heru'ghor. She loved to beat them, the Sith and the Jedi, at their own games of politics.

"Get me my best Rim Wine, droid, and contact that buff guard, what's his name," she began.

"You have noted that 'what's his name' is Derek Bolen, Hal N'Lon, and Sisten Moor," the droid stated.

"Derek Bolen, droid. Have him come meet me. I have business for him to perform tonight. Tell him it will be, all night."

The droid bowed and left. Ulia smiled. Sure, she was over 120 years old, but she was not dead yet.

Pure luck, Luke thought, as the Sand Raiders fled.

Luke and Ria were holding their own, but just. They were definitely the better shots, but the Tuskin Raiders had regrouped and outnumbered them at least 50 to 2.

The battle was at a stand still until mortar started falling on the sand people, exploding and tossing them in the air as charred heaps of death. Another figure, rocket boots lifting them up 10 feet into the air, rained fire down on another group of raiders, setting them ablaze and screaming out into the desert.

Both of he new comers were heavily armored, and heavily outfitted. The one in rocket boots landing right near the hatch of Luke's ship. Ria was ready for another fight, with a far more dangerous enemy, but noticed Luke smile and holster his twin blasters.

"Friends of yours," she asked, looking at the smuggler, and thinking she was definitely in trouble now.

"Yep, and lucky they showed up too. I had no idea they were even on this planet," he said, and held no malice in his eyes or voice toward the agent.

The Tuskin Raiders were completely set into disarray, and the remaining groups fled as if they too were set afire. Luke could not blame them, his two friends were a very impressive, intimidating couple.

Brindon did not know what the fight was about when he and Marcy'a approached the ship, but Marcy'a recognized the ship immediately. It belonged to the rogue smuggler, Luke Minhere. He was a friend of their's, and in fact was the one that introduced them. Brindon did not agree with the smugglers life style one bit, nor his companion's for that matter, but he had to admit that the rogue smuggler had saved his, and many other's lives, on countless occasions, doing countless daring missions.

"Do you see Luke anywhere?" Brindon called into his helmet's transmitter.

"The blaster fire was coming from that hill, wait, here he comes, and he has someone with him. Three O'clock Brindon." Marcy'a replied into her own comm link.

Brindon looked to his right and saw the two approaching. Luke looked no worse for the wear. His companion had holstered her own blasters, and it was obvious she was not the enemy. Brindon relaxed a bit, and scanned the area. The raiders were gone for now, and probably would not be returning anytime soon. He set his T-12 Assault Cannon down, and removed his helmet as he stood in the shade of the ship. Marcy'a removed her own helmet and rushed to Luke. Most men would have been jealous of such, as Marcy'a planted a kiss directly on the handsome smugglers lips, but Brindon understood the relationship completely, and his girl was more as a sister to the smuggler than anything else.

Brindon did note the uncomfortable look of Luke's companion, and somewhat disgust.

Luke patted Marcy'a on the cheek, then flashed a smile to Brindon, who waived back with his own, less flashy, smile.

The smugglers luck held, Brindon thought to himself, and a new adventure was probably about to start. From the looks of the woman with him, this was going to become interesting very fast.

Two days.

That is how long they had been stuck in the desert, and Ria could not help but be happy that the Sand People were nowhere to be seen. It was bad enough she was stuck with the smuggler, the soldier, and the bounty hunter, but she was also stuck with 4 dead bodies that were starting to stink.

"Cyborgs, I should have known," Luke said, looking the females over.

"Not your typical ones either," Marcy'a said, then looked over to Ria. "These were android before the skin and tissue were attached."

Ria shrugged, wondering why the bounty hunter felt she would know such a thing.

"I dont care if they were slugs before they were female cyborgs, just get them off the ship. Bury them in the sand or something. The parts that are human is starting to decay and stink."

Brindon looked the bodies over as well, and looked up to Luke.

"You dont understand. This is not just technology, it is also bio physics. Someone created a life force, albeit not exactly perfect."

"A very twisted someone, if you ask me," Marcy'a said.

Luke looked the bodies over again. They wore typical human clothes, and looked very human, for all intent and purposes. Somehow, however, their creator had trouble getting the voices down. They sounded more male than female.

"Well, ditch them all the same," Luke motioned to the opened hatch. "They are stinking my ship up."

Ria walked over to the bodies.

"They do look real, that is for sure," she said, wrinkling her nose up a bit due to the smell. "Let me help you get them out of here before they cause Luke a tissy."

Marcy'a chuckled a bit, and nodded. The three began to carry the bodies out into the desert as Luke finished fixing his broken ship.

"Testosterone," Doctor Horacio said, looking at his own notes. His lab was well hidden on a moon on the far outer edge of the Empire territory. It circled a dead planet, one that suffered wars many generations before.

The being with him, which the Sith could hardly be described as anything more than just that, simply looked him over.

"Heru'morto, I believe the over load of testosterone that I gave them to insure their ability to defend themselves may well have been a factor in their lack of their good decision making. If you allow me to continue my work," but the scientist stopped dead in his tracks as the Sith simply stared at him, no emotion showing.

"Doctor, your work was hardly a care of ours, even from the beginning. What we had you implant into those cyborgs was far more important than any work you have been doing. That shipment to Hutt Space was going to insure an ally, one that we could ill afford to not gain. Yet, we have not gained that ally. Your work is finished."

The doctor put his notes down, and his eyes slowly moved to the Sith, fear obviously dripping from his very being. It was true, he was not a brave man when it came to confrontations, but many considered him cutting edge, and lacking any fear when it came to cybernetics. He became comfortable in his worth.

Yet now, that comfort had left him.

"Allow me to....." he began, but his words were cut short as he felt his throat begin to close. The Sith never moved, never approached him, yet it felt as if very powerful hands had gathered about his throat. The entire time, the red eyes of the creature before him did not blink, and only stared.

Doctor Horacio was teetering on consciousness when he felt his feet begin to dangle, and no longer touch the hard steel flooring.

Heru'morto did not even acknowledge the assistant that poked her head in to ask if all was okay, upon hearing the chart hit the floor. He kept his focus on the last moments of the failed life of the miserable man before him. Skinny, almost skeletal, due to his lack of food intake, Horacio was a sad specimen, even for humanity. He did have a good mind though, and it was almost a shame that his mind was being denied the oxygen it so craved.

"Decontaminate this facility," he said to the Mandalorian security, and heard the gasp of the assistant, and subsequent clip clop of her shoes running down the steel hall. Heru'morto never took his eyes off of the now dead scientist, even watching as the body hit the cold floor. It would only take minutes for his dozen Mandalorians to kill the remaining scientists, and completely close this facility down.

He loved death. He loved watching it creep up on his enemies, and even his allies, for that matter.

The Zabrak walked into the hall when he heard the last reports of blaster fire. He knew through the force that the only life that remained now was he and his well armored security, even before the metallic voice sounded from their captain.

"It is finished. All are accounted for and dead."

"Alert the clean up crew on my vessel that they can begin. I do not want any documentation left on this facility, do I make that clear?" He asked.

The captain bowed an acknowledgment of his order before racing to accomplish it.

Heru'morto entered the lab once more, and removed a small but very powerful communicator.

"Yes, my apprentice?" came the voice of Heru'ghor, even though his image did not appear.

"Dread Lord, we have completed the work here. Do you have any further orders?"

"Leave the clean up team, I want the place thoroughly wiped of any signs of prior use before I send a new crew. You may return to me on Dromund Kaas for further orders," he said, and the connection was lost before Heru'morto could reply.

Ulia walked out of her bedroom into the living area of her lavished apartment. She chose to spend the evening alone, pouring over her books and wealth. She had accountants that kept her finances stable, even in such an unstable galaxy, but she chose to personally oversee her affairs in Coronet.

Ulia retrieved her own glass of wine, having ordered her C1 to shut itself down. It was such a bore. As she walked into the kitchen, her house robe gently swayed. She felt the silk against her otherwise bare skin, the expensive fragrances pleasantly drifting about her. She enjoyed being alone at times. Men were not meant for anything but pleasure, to the rich aristocrat. Females, while they could be pleasurable as well, were never to be trusted as friends. She was taught by her father, who delved deep into politics, that one must be comfortable in a crowd, or alone, but never with others knowing more of you than benefited.

He was a wise man. She learned much from him, but he took too many liberties with her. When she had him killed, she felt nothing akin to pain, but there was a sadness of loss at such a political mind being put out. She gained his vast wealth, more substantial than even she realized, at the tender age of 20.

Ulia did not enjoy the political scene. It was horrific, to say the least. Her first cybernetic piece was attached after a failed assassination attempt by a rival senator. She spent only 6 years in politics, and then retired. She still had her hands in much about the galaxy, but no longer as such a high profile person, but instead, as a behind the scenes string puller. She enjoyed this much more.

Ulia's holodeck flashed, and she knew it was Dr. Horatio calling. She seductively allowed her robes to part as she sat in the chair, revealing more skin, but only enough to draw the skinny man's attention. She loved flirting with him. While his mind was excellent, and he invented new ways to keep his clients in the latest and best in cyber technology, he was a hermit, and lacked any social skills what so ever.

The face she was met with, however, was not her scientist.

"Ulia, a pleasure as always," Heru'ghor smiled. His smile was, as always, menacing, but this time even more so than usual.

"I was not expecting you, how did you get this channel?" She asked, but was sure to not seem unnerved.

"My apprentice was able to retrieve the code, and I was sure you would be happy to see it used," the Sith toyed, and Ulia knew this was not going to go as she had hoped.

"Where is Dr. Horatio," she asked, as she pulled her robes tighter about her. Even upon asking, she knew the answer.

"He failed us, Ulia, and failure is not something we tolerate," the Sith Lord replied.

Ulia fought to maintain composure. Horatio would be sorely lost, and she would have to find another brilliant mind to keep her cybernetics functioning.

"Then I am sure you did what you must," she said, but she did not feel quite as strong as she was showing.

"Madam Ulia, your agent may still be able to accomplish our goals, if you still have contact with her, that is," he said, his voice menacing.

"Of course I do," she said. "And as promised, she will accomplish her goals."

"She had better," Heru'ghor replied, and the hologram signed off.

Ulia only then allowed herself to breath heavy.

"C1, boot," she called, and noticed a small crack in her voice.

"At your service madam," it said, as it always did upon coming to life.

"Full apartment security scan. Contact security agent Nag Dovish, and have him meet me here immediately," Ulia called as she ran to dress, her silk robe being removed before she even entered her bedroom.

"I saw it, Luke. I saw her cut the stomach cavity open and pull something out of one of those cyborgs when we got them off of the ship," Marcy'a said, while she dried her hair with a towel. She was in a tank top t-shirt and boxers, and judging from the fit of the boxers they no doubt belonged to Brindon.

"What was it," the smuggler asked, looking out into the hallway to insure they had privacy. Marcy'a called him to her and Brindon's room to talk to him in private, but she would not tell him why until she saw him in person.

"It was a cube, but something about it just seemed, I don't know, evil."

Luke nodded, then his expression suddenly changed. A smile crossed his face and he had a strange twinkle in his eye.

"Well, since Brindon is piloting and will be for the next hour, what he dont know," but he didn't finish as he looked down the hall, a guilty expression on his face.

Marcy'a wrinkled her nose a bit, it was very odd behavior, even for Luke. It seemed so, until the agent, Ria, passed by with a look of disgust on her face.

Or was it jealousy?

Luke winked at Marcy'a once the coast was clear.

"We will talk later, good job lil sis," he said, then was off.

Marcy'a nodded, and allowed a smile to cross her own face as Luke left. He was not only the luckiest man she had ever met in her life, but he was one of slickest smugglers in the galaxy. Marcy'a was beginning to wonder if he was really that lucky, or was he really that good.

No one could ever seem to figure that one out. He was known to do a great work for the Empire or the Republic, (depending on who was paying), one day, then lose a whole cargo of expensive items the next. It seemed he was never cautious enough, and open to assassins or bounty hunters wishing to make a quick buck off of a hit one moment, and almost untouchable the next.

She allowed that thought to pass her mind when she considered Brindon was at the controls of the ship. They would hit hyper space soon, and Brindon would have some time that she could steal. With a smile she headed to the bridge.

In a high rise building a very wealthy lady nervously gives orders to her body guards, a part of her knowing that if a Sith wishes her dead, there is not much she can do to protect herself.

On a desert planet a Hutt grows angry, his cargo not having reached him. If these Sith cannot be more reliable, then he will not break his loose treaty with the Republic for their sake.

A lord of death watches a hidden laboratory tumble loosely around a destroyed planet as he races away from it, back to Dromund Kaas. The place is being cleaned up and prepared for the next souls that will perform their experiments, and probably never leave the lab alive.

In the heart of the Empire, the Sith Lord of Dread awaits his apprentice, as they will soon discuss a certain smuggler that has unwittingly caused him a great loss.

Aboard a smuggler's ship two bodies intertwine in their meager sleeping quarters, one a soldier of the Republic, the other a bounty hunter with no loyalty to any government. Two souls very different from one another, yet drawn to each other like circling suns.

A room over, an agent gazes a moment at the cargo she was meant to deliver to her senior officers. A cube, giving off a darkness as if it was the opposite of light itself. She shudders, but even though she feels utter revulsion toward the item, it draws her deeper into it. One last gaze then she puts it away, locked into a personal safe.

At the controls of this same ship, the rogue smuggler smiles as they hurl through space faster than most any other ship in the galaxy. There is a certain symmetry, if one would look for it, to everything, including the chaos that Luke Minhere seems to leave in his path.

A small underground Republic force was left on Balmora to aid in a resistance against the remaining Sith Empire. However, most Balmorrans shared the view that they had been abandoned by the Republic. Surprisingly, the remaining underground resistance prevented the Sith Empire from ever taking complete control of the planet.

Luke did not immediately approach the planet. While his ship was faster than most, he did not wish to have to run from either Empire or Republic forces. Instead he stayed out of view, with complete radio silence, only the bare minimum needed for life support.

"So please, tell me again what you wish to gain from setting us down on this planet," Ria asked, looking at the screen of the blue and green planet of Balmora.

"I didn't really tell you the first time," Luke smiled a handsome smile, as he sat at the control panels, switching frequencies in an attempt to pick up radio chatter. The fact was, he heard much going on, but mostly freighters and such that were actually allowed to set down on the planet.

"Then tell me for the first time," she smiled back at him, with her own flirtatious grin.

"I know a smuggler who can provide parts for me at a, shall we say, discount," Luke said.

The large and muscular Brindon walked in at this point, and gave a snort. He had on a cotton gray muscle shirt that showed off his rather large arms, and was wearing nothing more than his white boxers. He seemed to have no concern that Ria was in the room.

"What he means is that they will be stolen parts and he will probably make a deal with someone to get the parts and then carry all of us, if we let him, across the galaxy to some other odd place to accomplish some goal to pay off the fellow on this planet for the parts," Brindon said, and sat in the pilots seat of the XS Freighter.

"You sound as if this happens often sir," Ria said. "May I ask why you, a Republic soldier, spends so much time on a smugglers ship?"

"No, you may not, however, suffice to say, I am serving the Republic," Brindon said, with only a slight quirk of his brow.

Ria looked to Luke, expecting some kind of reaction from him. Surely the man, who was probably wanted on some small level, would be nervous around such a claim. Luke was not, he was instead, looking bored at the radio speaker that was droning out co-ordinances and requests for entering the atmosphere or landing on a space station.

"Don't look at me, I don't work for the Republic," Luke said, when he noticed her eyes on him.

This brought a laugh to Brindon, who apparently could not picture such a thing.

"Darling, we all have our reasons, same as you," Luke winked, then went back to listening.

Really love the style of writing, sort of reminds me of a Philip Marlowe story. Lots of snark, enough going on to have some mystery and places to go with the story.

Looking forward to more.

Really love the style of writing, sort of reminds me of a Philip Marlowe story. Lots of snark, enough going on to have some mystery and places to go with the story. Looking forward to more.

Thank you very much for the feed back, and the compliment.

Balmora.

How she found herself so far away from her actual goal, Ria could not say. The dark cube was suppose to be brought to a Hutt on Tatooine, probably the safest place to exchange such a secretive device. The Hutt himself had flown there to meet her, and this bump in the road, and the many days that had now passed, would insure she would receive no bonus, if she even received the rest of her pay.

It was not by chance that she was chosen for this mission. Luke was known for his love of women, and it was surmised that he would surely find her attractive enough, allowing her to get inside the ship, and access to the cargo, 4 female looking cyborgs designed to transport and even protect what they carried. What they carried was some kind of dark cube that Ulia Van Collins said was not to get into the hands of the Empire, but instead to the Hutt on Tatooine. She had no idea who this Hutt was yet, she needed the product before this information was passed on to her. Ria knew all records of this mission would be wiped, for security reasons. That also meant all civilians involved would be eliminated, including the handsome smuggler Luke Minhere. It was her duty to kill the man, who she was assured was a traitor to the Republic anyway.

There were problems now with this mission.

She was not so sure that Luke Minhere was a traitor to anyone. The fact was, he served no one. The Republic soldier, Brindon, considered Luke a hero, even though he did work for the Empire time to time. Luke himself said he had no loyalty to either side, but he refused any service that would mean the harm of innocent people. Luke also had a friend who was a very capable bounty hunter, Marcy'a. Apparently she never considered claiming a bounty on Luke's head. Marcy'a was in all probability the most dangerous among the three, and if she checked into Ria, may well have sources capable of finding out who she was.

Another problem was that they were now stuck on Balmora while a rogue smuggler, who was an expert in after market illegal ship parts, retrieved parts to fix Luke's ship, which was damaged in the crash landing, that Luke claimed was a very strategic landing, on Tatooine. Luke promised to bring her back to the planet as soon as possible, as he needed to deal with his own lost cargo and the Hutt that was awaiting it there. Luke felt the Hutt owed him for the female cyborgs trying to kill him, and as such, they would come to terms and call it even. He had no idea the cyborgs were a ruse, and simply the containers for the real product.

This now lead to the problem of Luke being alive. To finish the mission, he had to be dead. Ria would turn the cube over to Hutt and insure the Hutt's cooperation with the Republic for decades to come.

That WAS the plan. Now, Ria was not so sure.

"This took longer than I expected, and I probably now have another stinking bounty on my head for something that really was not my fault. No one expects husky voiced beauties to become psychotic androids or cyborgs or whatever grand borg these things actually were. No one. So why should I be blamed?

Skinnit got my ship back up and running at least. It was a pressure valve and some tubing that got damaged. I told him to keep it to himself, since he was going on about the ship could have easily depressurized in space and killed us all. Brindon and Marcy'a seem to get dramatic about near loss of life, even though I assure them I have yet to die once. That is a pretty good record considering all the folks I know that can no longer claim that.

Now I will be heading back to Tatooine, a place I really do not like. Really. Many smugglers, thieves, Hutts, and the bottom ilk of the barrel love the place, as it is lawless and filled with people who have made looking the other way an art. I don't mind that so much, I suppose, but these folks can learn to freaking bathe once in a while.

The funny thing about me, people think I just look the other way, and pay no attention to what is happening. That can't be any further from the truth. While those on Tatooine have made looking the other way an art, I have made seeing everything that is happening around me an art. Did you really think I would not find out the truth? I know who you are, and I know what you do. I don't know what it is you are trying to get to the Empire, and I don't really care about that. I do have a problem with the fact that I know the Empire and how it works, long before today. I learned to find out what the missions are, and what they wish the end result to be.

Did you know the end result is usually everyone dead? Well, everyone except the higher ups in the Empire. I am not a higher up in the Empire, so you understand my concern about being a pawn in this. I was simply delivering cargo to a Hutt, a Hutt who, in all probability, is no longer alive, so I wont even be able to get any bounty he put on me dropped. They usually try to bribe cooperation with people in power, seduce and corrupt and such. When that does not work, they simply replace. YOU will be replaced, so whatever it is you think you are bringing to them, that item you have hidden in the safe in your room, in MY ship, that you for some reason thought I would not know about, is going to get you killed as well.

Now I want you to understand something, before I remove this gag and let you talk, and no, I wont be removing the other bindings. I want you to understand that if you lie, say the wrong thing, hollar, or anything that I simply do not wish to hear, I will turn your brain into scrambled eggs. Do you understand?" Luke offered a handsome smile, the business end of his blaster pointed at Ria's head.

In return, Ria simply nodded.

Ria took a long breath when the gag was removed, and took a chance to look around. They were in the cargo bay of the ship, more precise, a small holding compartment that if needed can release the cargo into space. It is where smugglers store some of the most dangerous items, things that can explode or cause damage to the ship. It was only her and Luke, so she assumed he had not spoken to the others about what he just told her.

"You are right about some things Luke, but you are wrong as well," she said, looking to the rogue smuggler.

"Careful Ria, I meant what I said about blasting your brains out," Luke said. "No offense."

"None taken," she said honestly, swallowing as she got her bearings.

Apparently he drugged her while she slept, because she could not remember how she got tied up. She was sitting on the floor, leaned up against some unknown crate. The light here was dim, and she assumed it was still sleeping hours aboard the vessel.

Luke just waited patiently for her to go on.

"You were used to get an item, but not the cyborgs" she sighed, looking again to his face. "I was told you were wanted for many crimes, many murders, but you were good at what you did. The Republic wanted to kill two birds with one stone, capture the stolen item, whatever it is, that you stole, and gain the favor of the Hutt, that I was to deliver it to. I wont give you names of contacts nor my mission head, but I will tell you that you have it backwards. I was not working for the Empire, you were."

Luke looked her over, then sat down, leaning his own back against a crate, as he lowered his blaster.

"I am well aware of whom I worked for," Luke said. "However, I think it is you that has it backwards. Apparently we are both working for the Empire."

Ria looked at the rogue, but could not tell if he was being deceiving. She knew he was probably very good at lying, but something on his face, and his eyes, showed worry that she was not sure she had ever seen before.

"Who gave you this mission, Luke," she asked, but was quite afraid of the answer.

"Madam Ulia of Coronet," he said. The fact that a smuggler never gave their source, and the fact that he did without hesitation, sent chills up Ria's spine. Ria suddenly understood, she was not only working for the Empire, but neither her or Luke were ever meant to leave Tatooine.

More frightening was that was exactly where they were headed.

The Hutt was dead, or so the reports claimed. No one really knew when it came to a Hutt if they were actually dead, or if they were in hiding. Luke knew stories of some Hutts even regenerating body parts, including the brain. Still, the smuggler knew he had to be careful. If the Hutt was alive, his assassins would be happy to kill Luke and claim some reward that the Hutt no doubt has offered. If the Hutt were really dead, then whoever killed the Hutt would be looking to silence him as well, and if they actually killed a Hutt, then they were the kind of dangerous that Luke wanted no part of.

"You don't really mean to stick around here and find out if the Hutt is dead, now do you?" Marcy'a asked, and it was a very good question, if she had not asked it in such a condescending way.

"I need to know what is going on," Luke said with a deep frown.

"And you think a Hutt, someone who would pay me very well to bring them your head, is going to tell you. A Hutt, who's name you do not even know because you now have no contact, if that contact ever existed, to lead you to him. A Hutt, a people that are not known for their compassion and kindness, a Hutt....", she continued, but Luke waved her off.

"I get your point," he said.

"So what is this thing," Brindon asked, ignoring the banter between the two, as he always did. He did not touch the dark cube looking thing, but instead went around the table looking it over as if he was judging the engine of a sand cycle.

"I wouldn't touch it if I were you," Ria said, sitting at the table, her hands still bound.

Brindon looked to her questioning.

"Something weird about it. I touched it when I took it from the cyborg, and it felt electric, like machinery, but alive, like something trying to get into my brain", she said.

This caused Marcy'a and Luke to look over to her, then to the cube, which they were now all staring at.

The bounty hunter had seen the X5 enter the atmosphere on his instrument panel. He was pretty sure it was the smuggler with the cargo, and now seeing it sitting out deep in the deserts of Tatooine, he was positive it had to be it. The Duros climbed back on his desert cycle, and headed away from the ship. Now was not the time to collect.