fino - (Affection) Talos's gift was...crap I need a thesaurus cause I keep using cute and adorable when writing responses to these Aldria/Talos stories. Aldria doing some relatively benevolent scheming - nice

 

fino - (Celebrations) Goodness, that's quite an unexpected reaction there. Poor Talos

Talos is adorable. There is no other word for that man. Well, perhaps squee. Because I sure squee'd every time I talked to him.

I don't think either of them were expecting that reaction. Especially not Talos. It does get better though, I promise.

@fino D:

It gets better!

Things, whatever they were, had come to a standstill. And it was his fault. He was distracted now, muttering to himself as he paced circuits around the cargo hold. He shouldn’t have tried. He should have left it alone. She said she didn’t want to be paid back, but, technically it hadn’t been a payment. It had been a gesture. A gesture of goodwill and kindness and caring. A gesture between friends. That’s what friends did, right? Oh, dear, he was so behind on the times. He should have consulted one of his books on operating within Sith society. Oh, if only he had done that before he had made a fool of himself. Then again, Aldria was always more… accepting and laidback. Much like her pirate friend.

Oh, damn of damns. He had left the door wide open and now he was under siege by prying eyes. He could feel them. It wasn’t Khem. Khem’s stares always felt like someone sizing up a meal and just how many bites it would take to finish it off. Ashara’s stare felt like a curious little nymph and Xalek’s felt similar to Khem’s, but with less eating and more outright murdering. And that left Andronikos. He halted his spewing thoughts lest he be overheard, but he continued moving in his agitated state.

“Rough day?” Andronikos asked from the doorway.

Talos stopped his pacing and turned toward the door. “How could you tell?” he asked. That wasn’t like him. There seemed to be more bite in his bark than usual.

Andronikos smirked. “I heard you using a lot of words that would qualify for cursing considering who you are.”

Talos smiled and nodded. “Yes, a rough day indeed.”

“Come on, I’ll pour you a drink.”

A drink sounded nice. Talos was quick to follow Andronikos to the galley where a bottle and two glasses were already waiting at the table. Talos shook his head absently and sat down. Andronikos sat down across from him and poured two fingers worth of whiskey into both glasses.

“So,” Andronikos hedged, picking up his glass and taking a healthy drink, “you do somethin’ silly in the tomb today?”

Talos gingerly picked up his glass and cupped it between his hands, much as he had the little cake he had presented to Aldria.

“You could say that,” Talos said quietly.

“The Sith came back all in a tizzy,” Andronikos said. He watched Talos for a reaction, but the man was stone faced and staring at the amber liquid in his glass. “I took her to bed and got her straightened up.”

That got a reaction. Talos turned his eyes up and stared at Andronikos. A war of green on brown erupted between them. He really shouldn’t be upset. At all. He had no right, and, yet, he was. She had made her choice and – what was he thinking? There was no choice. Their relationship wasn’t – but it could have been. It had started to seem that way. He read it wrong. That’s all. He read it wrong. It happened. It was no different than mistranslating a tablet and causing a bit of a ruckus with the initial translation.

Andronikos looked away first. “Alright, alright, I was baiting you.” He finished his drink, poured another one, and sat back. “I did take her to bed, but not for what you’re thinkin’. She and I… we’re not like that. So don’t worry about me. Your little charm has her well protected from pirates.”

Talos nearly dropped his drink.

“I may be a pirate, but I’m not stupid. So why don’t you do us both a favor?”

Talos arched a brow and waited. What sort of favor? He didn’t like the sound of that. He raised his glass to his lips and took a very small sip. Strong. It made his lips feel numb wherever it touched.

“I can tell you’ve got a little crush on our Sith,” Andronikos said casually. Talos sputtered into his glass. “Use some of that tomb explorer courage you’ve got an’ tell her already. The tension is killing me.”

Talos felt his face heating up and wished he had enough alcohol in his system to justify such a state. Is that what this was? A crush? Romantic feelings for his – no, that wasn’t possible. He respected her. That was all. Even if he did think she was rather adorable as she poured over texts with him. And her differing perspective was refreshing, clear, and confident. He admired that. He admired her. Could admiration turn into something more? Oh, what did it matter? She was his superior, a Sith, and out of his league, if he even thought about leagues for romantic liaisons and he didn’t. At all. Nothing of the sort. Ever. And, dear stars, where had his drink gone? Had he needed to occupy his mind so much that he – yes, yes he had and the whiskey was now settling in his stomach.

“Look, Talos,” Andronikos said. Talos continued looking at him. “I’ll be straight with ya, I think the Sith’s got a thing for you too. You’re both p*ssyfootin’ around and it’s messin’ up the air on the ship.”

“You truly think so?” Talos asked, finally adding his voice to the conversation.

“Hey, have I ever steered you wrong?”

“Well, there was that incident with the potato salad recipe…”

“I apologized profusely for that one.”

“You did,” Talos replied with a smile. “Alright. I’ll… try talking to her. Perhaps when she’s not as… upset with me.”

Andronikos shook his head. “It’s not you, but that’s her story to tell.”

Talos nodded in agreement. It was her story to tell and hearing it second hand, especially if she didn’t want him to know it, seemed a violation. Of all the things he had no desire to do, it was violate her trust and he felt as if he were on thin ice already. Yes, he would talk to her. Or try. He hopped he wouldn’t babble her to death. He was awfully terrible about babbling at people about things when he really wanted to say one thing and say it well.

Now, if he could wrap his mind around one idea and stick with that idea, things could go smoothly. First, apologizing.

Bright- I really enjoyed the conversation between Vierce and the doctor. Some reason I found it really funny.

Fino- I think you've nailed Talos and Andronikos perfectly!

Irrissa- I'm loving all the little details you give. Good stuff.

Yoshi- I laughed quite hard at the end where he finds the detonator in his pocket. I dreaded the results if Kaliyo would have if she had found that detonator.

Bright-It was gonna be one of those "oh no" moments but I just could not bring myself to do it.... Not yet...

iamthehoyden-Glad you liked it!

Armond walked down the gray dull corridors of the republic cruiser with the rest of his squad in tow. "So boss have you heard anything about why they called us hear to this backwater system?" a short stocky twi'lek asked inquisitively. His dark blue eyes eagerly searching Armonds pale white face for anything resembling an answer.

Armond shook his head and continued walking forward in silence, he was just as in the dark as the rest of his special operations squad.

Finally the group came upon a large open room with a holo projector standing in the center of the room, surrounded by rows of chairs."This looks like a briefing room if I ever saw it!" the twi'lek said in his overbearingly snide tone.

"Ah Delta squad!" an older red haired woman exclaimed in a shrill voice from across the room, a rather large data pad was cradled in her arm.

"Glad that you were all able to come here on short notice. I am your new liaison from the SIS and have been given orders to brief you all on your next mission."

"What happened to Herb? He's been our handler since I took command of the squad." Armond asked as his squad spreading out taking their seats all across the room.

"Herb... is Indisposed at the moment. Do not worry he will be quite alright.. The woman said a fake smile covering her face." Bah I forgot to introduce myself! Silly me. The name is Sylph."

"So what's the deal with deploying us all the way to this backwater system? We're front line fighters not some security force" Armond said sitting down leaning his chair back.

Sylph shook her head "Your capabilities as excellent fighters is what made you our first option for this mission."

"Which would be what miss spooky spy lady?!" The twi'lek chimed in from the far side of the room.

"I was getting to that Corporal Vernon. Now if you don't mind lets keep the conversation serious from here out." The room darkened as the holo projector activated showing a large aerial map of a barren expanse of desert.

"Twenty two days ago we deployed Rapier squad with a doctor Morgana Shilvrez to Tattooine to perform weapons testing at one of the republics recently abandoned facilities. Since that time we have had no contact with them and are now afraid of betrayal from both the doctor and the team.."

Sylph walked over to Armond and handed him the datapad. "As you can see Captain that is the squad and the doctor.. Now tell me who are they talking with."

"Seems to be Mando's ma'am" Armond said staring at the screen analyzing every miniscule detail. "Looks like they're selling them weapons and... Datapads?"

" This photo was taken by one of SIS's elite operatives. Given the sensitivity of this project SIS has given approval for their elimination. We have to move on them now delta squad. Before they decide to sell anymore of our secrets."

The map zoomed in to reveal a lone standing structure in the middle of the desert it was a rather small looking building no bigger than the average house on Tattooine.

" You will be deployed from the northern perimeter here" Sylph pointed a bony finger at the map indicating the spot she had spoke of. "After that you will make your way into the building from the hidden entrance here"

She then moved her finger down a few inches on the map pointing at a small rocky outcropping."Once inside you are to kill everything that moves and retrieve any sensitive data. Then you are to blow that building to the ground. Understood?"

A single loud "Yes ma'am" erupted from the entire squad.

" You will be deployed as soon as you grab your equipment from the armory. Good luck. You are dismissed."

The squad stood up and walked out of the room, towards the armory each of them now psyching themselves up for the battle at hand.

"You really believe that picture was of our guys and not some trick?" said Mouse, a small frail looking woman with a medics insignia tattooed on the side of her neck. She nervously ran her fingers through her red hair as she awaited an answer.

"It was them not a doubt about it. It's not an easy fact to accept but sometimes money overcomes duty for these kind of people." Armond said robotically almost as if he was a spokesman for an internal affairs unit.

The group geared up and walked towards the hangar bay. A tall lanky man was in front now his armor almost falling off of him as he walked along. "Hotshot when are you gonna get armor that actually fits?" Vernon teased.

"Well I reckon i'll get some requisitioned when all our supply orders stop getting changed from armor and other necessities to Corellian brandy!" Hotshot replied in his deep farmboy accent.

"Noted private I'll ensure your order isn't changed this go around" Armond said glaring over at Vernon as they boarded the shuttle. Each of them quietly muttering a prayer or three to themselves as the shuttle door closed behind them.

"Let's all be safe and come back alive. Don't go out there taking any unwarranted risks. That means you Hotshot." Armond said jokingly knowing that no matter how many times he would order the man to not rush in with his gun blasting every way imaginable that it would still happen.

"Aww boss I forgot you cared." the man grinned widely at Armond his bright green eyes filled with an odd amount of joy for someone riding into a high stress mission.

"This is the spot gentlemen" The pilot yelled lowering the shuttle door, the hot dry air rolling into the cabin of the ship laden with sand.

Armond stood up first placing his helmet on and walking out the door his squad at the ready behind him. "Alright delta form up lets go in the back door and give these traitors a surprise they'll never forget!"

Like a well oiled machine the team moved forward towards the rocky outcropping described by Sylph. They soon found the door and it's control panel. Both were fried. "Blow it up Vern!" Armond yelled as he shuffled out of the way.

Vernon slowly walked forward to the door placing a rather large charge on the door and then moving to a safe distance with the squad.

"Three... Two.... One... Booom!" Vern exclaimed as the bomb erupted into a enormous fireball blasting the door and possibly everything else around it down.

"Move it people they know we're here!" Armond yelled charging forward towards the door and into the breach. The hallway was dark and relatively ill lit and gently sloped downwards.

"Looks like there might be something down here, possibly a warehouse, keep alert delta!" Armond commanded

Strange sounds echoed through the hall but there was no enemy attacking them yet. As they came upon a intersection Armond gave a signal with his hand indicating his squad to spread out and search. Hotshot and Vernon each picked a direction, carefully each member warily made their way forward. Armond stepped slowly down a hallway Mouse quietly nipping at his heels. When suddenly flood lights flickered on and blaster fire erupted from a large open room.

"Get down!" He yelled taking cover behind a durasteel crate while Mouse ducked behind a corner. He activated the com link connected to the entire squad and peered around the corner then quickly ducking back.

"I've got all of em down this hallway! Vern I want you and Hotshot to get over here as fast as you can!"

He didn't hear a response, yet he didn't care. He knew he would have to keep the enemy down until help arrived. Leaning around the corner Armond took aim and blasted the first man he with his blaster rifle. More shots were fired at him and he quickly returned to the now fleeting safety of the crate.

Just as the crate was about to fail, a loud enthusiastic "Wooooo! Get some!" in Hotshot's familiar accent came bellowing down the hallway followed by a hail of blaster fire. Hotshot ran past Armond, Vern not far behind him. Armond was now taking full advantage of the chaos caused by his squads antics to take out the remaining enemies with lethal precision.

Armond stood up as the chaos quickly faded and checked himself for wounds. "I'm good is everyone else okay?" he said concerned for his team's survival. "Yep I'm good" Mouse squeaked her body trembling in excitement and partial terror.

"I reckon I'm fine" Hotshot said leaning his rifle against a wall. Vern simply nodded as they begun to check the bodies for identification and any critical intel.

A few minutes elapsed as the group searched through the bodies of the traitors. All seemed perfectly well until "Boss you need to look at this!" Mouse screeched as she frantically backed away from a body."What is it?" Armond asked running Mouse. "Look at the dog tags sir. He's your brother..."

Armonds heart sank as he walked over to the body turning it over. Just as he removed the helmet he saw the face of his younger brother Hadock. "You're joking right? Really this is some sort of sick twisted joke!" He yelled in disbelief.

Walking away from the others not quite sure how he was supposed to act. Minutes passed like hours until he heard another scream from mouse.

"What now?" He asked in a truly empty voice Mouse looked over at him a bewildered look on her face. "He just... breathed."

Armond walked over kneeling down next to his brother and leaning his head on his chest. "He's got a heartbeat. But that doesn't matter... Let's go." He stood up a determined look on his face as his team stared with the most confused look on their faces. "You heard me lets move out! Vern place charges on the supports bring this place crashing down on these bodies."

As the team walked towards the door a faint whisper stopped Armond cold in his tracks. "Brother... Don't... Go."

A moment or two passed as Armond thought his decision over thoroughly. He had no choice in this matter and he knew it. Orders were orders ,even if they condemned people he loved, he had to walk away leaving his brother to a certain death.

The team exited the way they entered. With Vern placing charges every few feet on key supports.As they reached the surface mouse stopped Armond as the others continued forward "You're really sure about this... We wouldn't say anything if you went back for your brother."

Armond shook his head a tear in his eye as he walked away condemning his now traitor brother to death. A quiet Mouse then followed him until they reached the shuttle. As lift off was completed Vernon pressed the switch on the detonator. A massive explosion was heard as the shuttle lumbered through the atmosphere heading back towards the cruiser.

"This is good stuff, trust me," Jaci hated having to convince people to buy stuff she'd already paid for. Well, paid in the loosest sense of the term. In fact, closer to stolen. "Top quality merchandise, finest tailors in the core worlds."

The man behind the counter narrowed his eyes, nearly to slits. Jaci kept her cool demeanour, even if side-eyeing Nautolans were her least favourite of all Nautolans. He flipped over a pair of trousers, examining the seat.

"You're supposed to be able to poke your fingers through there, part of the charm."

He glared at her again, but stopped trying to pry the leather straps apart.

"You really think this'll sell so close to the border?"

Jaci leant against the counter and but on her brightest smile.

"Are you telling me that there's not one person in this sector who wouldn't jump at the chance to bend an Imperial Officer over their knee and give 'em a good spanking?"

Gathlix opened one eye wide, the Nautolan equivalent to a raised eyebrow. He did not question her logic, however, and merely nodded.

"What colours did you say you had?"

Inwardly, Jaci cheered, her smile also becoming that bit more sincere.

"Well, I've got grey, dark-grey, grey-black, black-black and white," There were no other colours in the Empire, after all. "There're details, the little ribbons and stuff, but those are changeable. Got a big box of red, white and gold," Gathlix's gaze flicked across his shop; taking stock, no doubt. Time to go in for the kill. "Fifty units, standard sizes, each."

"Of all colours?"

"All colours, all styles."

"That's a lot of stock."

"And a lot of credits," Jaci rubbed her fingers together, the universal sign for money. "I can guarantee that--" Gathlix held up a hand to shush her, pointing toward the window. A Sith woman and her Twi'lek lady companion were standing just outside, having a somewhat heated discussion.

"Now, do you really think I can sell these, with that on my doorstep?" He shushed Jaci again as she went to respond.

The Sith was leaning against the now-open door, still talking to her lady friend.

"I know I said we'd go dress shopping, and we will," She paused and listed to some inaudible muttering that passed as a response. "Yes, I know you wanted to go somewhere fancier, but this place is fun!" The Sith - Pureblood, that was the word - was a little shorter than Jaci had expected. With her jewellery, short cut hair and maniac glint in her eye, the woman hardly seemed as threatening as all the rumours had had her believe. The bruised-puce skin just added to her firm cuteness.

The Pureblood bounced the door off her hip and swanned up to the counter. Jaci guessed her smile to be somewhere between 'free ice-cream' and 'revenge against a disappointing ex'. Gathlix kept his eyes down, switching between the counter-top and the floor.

"Hello, shop keep," She popped the 'p's, taking delight at Gathlix's flinching. She grabbed the trousers from his hands and snapped them out. "Ooh, what have we here?"

"Finest tailoring in the core worlds, that's what," Jaci grinned and wrinkled her nose as the Pureblood stuck her fingers found the secret part of the trousers. "That's supposed be there."

"P-part of the charm..." Gathlix was trying very hard not to look afraid. It really showed.

"These aren't your standard Imperial uniforms..." The Pureblood's smile sent a chill down Jaci's spine. Even the nastiest of gangsters had never been that casually terrifying. "Do you have any in my size?"

Gathlix sagged, visibly relieved that his head was still attached. He nodded a little too enthusiastically and reached into the sampler box. Within a few moments, the Pureblood was parading around in tight black trousers and a modified officer's jacket. Though she seemed extremely pleased, her Twi'lek friend was less than impressed.

"Stion'n, this is a formal gathering, you can't wear... that to our meeting."

"Oh, I'll just throw my frumpiest robes over the top," She stretched and smiled, her numerous pieces of jewellery catching the light. "None of those stuffy Moffs will get a surprise, unless they want to, of course." She twirled, showing off the little pointed spines that ran all the way down her back. Everything about her was sharp edged and pointy and Jaci was quickly reassessing her first impression.

Perhaps a hasty retreat was in order.

"See? I told you these were good," Jaci grinned and nudged Gathlix with her elbow. He trembled like a leaf. She lowered her voice a little, talking under the argument Stion'n and her friend were starting to have."You've got nothing to worry about," Jaci waved an arm out, making sure she rippled with joy. "And these beautiful, wonderful ladies are your first and finest customers!"

Gathlix nodded nervously and Stion'n just beamed. Even her teeth were sharp.

Jaci slipped her drop box details along the counter. "Half now, half if you live." She whispered into Gathlix's ear. He gave her all the money and then some without hesitation.

Jaci left the shop just as the foreboding question: "Do you have any toys?" left the Pureblood's lips.

No, Jaci decided, she would not be running novelty items again for quite a while.

Dha was strolling down the hall of his home, a traditional Mandalorian underground building that was more fortress than house and yet retained a feel of comfort, when he heard a voice. He frowned. Turning, he headed for the medical room.

Inside was the comatose Gault. He had been injured several months before, even before the birth of Dha's daughter. He had saved Mako's life during a cave-in, and Dha had felt responsible for him since. Once the doctors had confirmed he would live, Dha had immediately transported him home.

Beside Gault, sitting on the bed, was Skadge.

Dha ducked back out of view before Skadge caught sight of him, and listened.

"So, yeah," Skadge muttered. "Where was I? Oh, yeah. We went to Hutta a few weeks ago, and Dha got in a fight with this smuggler." He chuckled. "Pretty funny. The baby, the baby's doing good. Cute little youngling, looks just like Mako but with Dha's horns. Adorable." A smile slashed open his blubbery face. "Of course, not as adorable as Houk babies. Hmm. That reminds me. One of these days I need to find me a nice, fat woman to settle down with, have a few seedlings...a pod of my own. Huh. Well, thanks for listening, Gault. I'm going to go find something to eat. Haven't had anything since lunch ten minutes ago. I'm famished. Get better soon, okay, brother?"

Dha dashed down the hall silently before Skadge exited the medbay. He turned and silently entered the baby's room. She was cooing contentedly in her cradle, apparently having just awakened from her nap. Mako hadn't come in yet, so obviously the baby had just awakened. Dha knelt next to the cradle and looked down at the baby's face. His daughter caught site of him and grinned, her adorably large eyes glistening happily. She gurgled and reached up to grab one of the horns atop his head.

"Hey, baby," he said quietly. "How you doing?"

The baby cooed, and Dha melted inside all over again.

So, yeah. Two moments here, one with Skadge and another with Dha. I don't like Skadge any more than the next player, especially those of us who made our BH's honorable Mandalorians, but he's got to have some redeeming qualities, right? Well, I figure hanging out with this crew long enough has made him as close to a family man as Skadge can be. And baby cuteness, of course, because I have a soft spot for babies (who doesn't?).

Might be a stretch, but I think this could fit the idea of hiding something. And I always wished there was a scene where the rest of the crew finds out about the IA’s romance. I’d imagine their reactions would be entertaining.

Kaliyo felt smug, leaning nonchalantly against the wall outside the crew quarters. It was well near dawn, and Vector had finally emerged from the agent’s room at the front of the ship. She stayed out of sight, watching as he proceeded to slink back to his bunk. Fine, maybe he didn’t slink, Kaliyo thought. But he might as well have.

But he wasn’t the one the Rattataki was interested in. She gave up trying to fluster Vector long ago — he was impervious to all attempts at riling him. So...infuriating. Kaliyo unclenched her fists, a subconscious habit that bubbled up whenever she had to deal with His Hiveness, and waited.

A minute later — and entirely predictably — the agent’s door opened and she quietly crept toward the refresher, dressed only in the blue robe she’d made a fuss about getting last time they visited the market. Clearly she thought no on else was awake. Just as she was about the turn the corner, Kaliyo stepped out from the shadows.

“Aren’t we up early?” she purred in the most cheerful voice she could muster.

Kinka nearly jumped out of her skin. A cheerful-sounding Kaliyo had that effect, no matter what time of the day.

“Kaliyo! I didn’t realize you were up.”

Kaliyo licked her lips and set at her goal. Kinka thought she and bug boy were so sneaky with their sordid romance, as if no one would catch on. For a woman who specialized in covert operations, the agent was horrible at keeping her relationship with Vector a secret. Kaliyo had first noticed something was up not long after they departed Hoth. She had no sooner crashed near the holoterminal after a celebratory cantina crawl on Nar Shaddaa when the agent emerged from her quarters.

Thinking she was about to be reamed out for either the noise or the debauchery, Kailyo feigned unconsciousness. She was too exhausted to deal with any of that. Instead she heard the agent’s startled voice.

“Kaliyo’s there,” Kinka whispered to someone, sounding more startled than usual. “She’s out of it, but you should probably go.”

“We enjoyed tonight,” a soft voice said. Vector. They kissed once more and parted ways while Kaliyo fought the urge to retch.

Of course, she had thought. It was no surprise that those two had finally gotten together. She knew the agent had been infatuated with the off-putting bugman from their first meeting on Alderaan. It’s not that Kaliyo cared where the agent got her kicks; emperor knows she had no interest in Vector. Shudder. It was the sneaking around that was so amusing. And if they were going to fumble around so carelessly, she was going to have a little fun at their expense.

Despite all the evidence that the two of them were together, they refused to come out and say it. Instead they would play like everything was professional, the agent retiring to her quarters, and Vector pretending to meditate in the cargo bay. But Kaliyo had been watching, noticing. After all, no one had been with Kinka as long as she had. But even the others were starting to catch on. Well, everyone except Ensign Sunshine. That girl had her head stuck so far in the Imperial command book, it was a wonder she could dress herself without consulting a higher authority. That’s a rant for another time, she thought to herself.

“I heard...noises,” Kaliyo said coyly. “Then I noticed Vector passing this way. You should probably make sure there aren’t any bugs on the bridge. He was coming from that area. Did you see him?”

The agent’s brown eyes widened slightly, but to her credit she quickly regained her cool. “Actually, I heard something, too. Good to know it was only Vector. I’ll have to tell him to be more quiet when he’s up late. I’d hate for everyone’s sleep to be disturbed.” Kinka turned and quickly retreated to her quarters, as Kaliyo smirked behind her.

“Of course, agent.” she said to herself, sarcasm dripping from each syllable. “Until next time.”

"First election I ever voted in was the question of Kegled II joining the Republic," I said. "I was twenty. Last electon on Kegled before then was when I was six."

"Six? And you let that stop you?" said Vik. "I'm disappointed, boss."

"I don't remember there being anything about ice cream or toy blasters on the ballot," I said. "What else was I supposed to care about?"

"What about you, Dorne?" asked Jorgan. "First election?"

"There was nothing for me to vote on during my Imperial service," she said. "Nor have I cast a vote here, but once Personnel Division clears me for full citizenship I'll be able to participate in elections."

"Three years, you ought to be a citizen already," I said. "I could go slap your Captain Kalor until he gets on with that if you want."

"I don't think slapping him would help," she said, and while her voice was exasperated she did have a little smile.

"What?" I said. "It's for democracy. Sort of."

*Start of normal decoding algorithm*

…..........

*Decoding complete*

Extract from Report 15C/4

SIS Archives

Subject: Human girl

Project: - deleted-

Reporting Agent: presumed KIA

I have observed the subject by the name of “Xania” for some time as instructed by Master ********. I am not sure why he is so interested in a five year old girl save for the fact that, apparently, she is force sensitive. So far, I managed to get to know her parents by posing as a business associate of her father. He trades in droid and vehicle parts and it seems to be a rather profitable trade.

Nothing unusual has come up. The child is following normal studies and has yet to show any sensitivity to the force.

I will continue to monitor the situation.

Extract from Report 15C/7

Nothing new yet to report. I have contacted Master ********* and he simply asked me to continue playing my role. From my side, however, I am confident that I will gain her father's trust thus allowing me to be closer to the family and the subject of my observations.

Extract from Report 15C/15

I have managed to earn enough trust from the subject's father that he now considers me as a friend. Having been at their home multiple times, I was able to get a clearer picture of the girl.

She is a rather smart, fun-loving kid as could be expected from most of the children of her age. She also seems rather sociable. However, I have yet to see any signs of force sensitivity. Master ******** is convinced that she does have such gift, if it can be called that way, and that she should be monitored as she will need “guidance” once her powers manifest. By “guidance” I assume that he will bring her to Tython to start studying the ways of the force and thus begin her Jedi training

Extract from Report 15C/28

It has been six months since I started this mission and, for the first time, I witnessed, first hand, the subject's strength: during what could be considered a tantrum, I was surprised to see furniture flying across the room.

Her parents did calm her and were quick to assure me that it was nothing serious although, her father later admitted that it was not the first time it had happened. I did suggest to him the possibility that she may be force sensitive but he did not give a straight reply and quickly changed subject of conversation. I decided to drop the argument but I will have to observe further developments.

I did report the incident to Master ********* and he seemed pleased. I will have to find more information on his plans after this assignment is complete.

Extract from Report 15H/1

During the past five years I completely integrated myself within the small community of farmers/traders on Dantooine to the point that I am considered a good friend by most people. Of course, there are always those that are less trustworthy but they are of no consequence for I have done nothing that could jeopardise my cover.

So far, the subject has shown increasing power but her parents have always been quick to respond to any “outbursts”.

There are rumours going on every so often between the community that she is somewhat “different” but I have worked against such rumours and this far, people have accepted my opinion as the subject has never shown her growing abilities outside of her household.

Extract from Report 15H/5

Last night I was able to record a conversation between the subject's parents: it would seem that they are not her real parents but, instead, they adopted her while she was a baby. Her adoptive mother has grown very attached to her and she has been actively trying to hide the subject's force sensitivity, fearing that it might attract an interest from the Jedi. She does not want her adoptive daughter taken from her.

The father, however, believes it would be best for the child to follow the Jedi training.

The subject has shown increasing control over her abilities, however.

….........................

*EoF – further data unrecoverable*

Aboard the corvette class ship “Guardian” orbiting **********

Officer Vero was standing on the bridge waiting for the only other person present to speak. He wanted to ask so many questions but, throughout the years passed on Dantooine, he learned that the Jedi he had been working for was more of a mystery than the young girl he had been observing for so long.

Ten years had passed since the first time he had met her and she was now an attractive teenager. In some communities she would have been considered a woman already but his focus was on her no longer. He did what he was supposed to do but his real interest was to understand Master Zairos' true intent. Why had he been so interested in one girl?

“Is she ready?” the Jedi asked, interrupting Vero's train of thoughts.

“If by ready you mean if she is ready to join the Jedi, I believe that you know the answer better than me.” he paused, wanting to see a reaction, any reaction from Zairos. But then, he smiled to himself. What he was trying to do was simply stupid, trying to get a reaction from a Jedi.

“No Officer. I do not know the answer since I was not there for the past ten years.” he turned around, a strange smile crossing his lips “If I knew, I would not be asking”

Pompous son of a Hutt, Vero thought “She is strong. Happy?”

“Yes. That's what I was expecting” Zairos began to move across the bridge towards Vero. He stopped just a few feet in front of him “Now, for the last part of the plan”

“Collect her and bring her to Tython?”

“That would have been the correct procedure but, you know as well as me that she may be a bit too old for Jedi training now.”

Vero started to dislike where the conversation was going “Different plan?”

“Of course.”

There was a brief moment of silence but Vero was tense, ready to spring. His SIS training was sounding the alarm in his head; something was not right.

“Considering that her family and herself will be travelling two days from now to Coruscant on a trading route, I have arranged for their vessel to be attacked by pirates.” Zairos paused “She will then be taken prisoner and sold into slavery.”

Vero had to force himself from leaping and the Jedi's throat. How could he have been so naïve as to believe the man in front of him? He did not see this? How?

“I did not know that Jedi had a sense of humour, albeit a very dark humour”

“This is no joke, officer Vero”

“You are completely insane” Vero's hand quickly moved to his blaster and he pointed it at his opponent. In response, the Jedi raised his arm with an outstretched hand. Vero found himself flying backwards till he hit the wall behind him, the force of the impact knocking the air out of his lungs and the blaster out of his hand.

“Fool. I will not have you ruin what I have worked for all this time.” The Jedi made a gripping motion with his hand and Vero felt his throat being crushed, slowly.

With gritted teeth, he just managed to ask “Why?”

“Her slavery will either kill her or unleash her true potential. But if she does survive, she will be my revenge.”

The last thing that Vero's eyes witnessed, was the Jedi's hand closing. A cracking noise. A neck snapped.

Darkness engulfed him.

A bit on the origins of my SI Xania is only mentioned and the two main characters are Officer Vero and a certain Jedi Zairos.

Prudii wiped the sweat from his head as he packed up his hunting tools–rifle, knife, assorted animal-cleaning items–and the animal in question, a fat roba that would make a fine meal for Prudii and his whole family. All of sixteen, Prudii had taken the responsibility for hunting while his father and older brother, Dha, farmed, and his mother took care of their adopted baby sister, Briika.

Prudii grunted as he lugged the animal over his shoulder. He'd have to come back for his pack, so he slung it high in a tree branch where no curious animals could get it. Then he set out for home, the large animal weighing down on him.

He had just left the forest and entered his family's property when he heard blaster bolts.

Instantly, he threw the animal to the ground and ran back into the forest, retrieving his hunting rifle and knife. Then he sprinted back out to the field. Sighting up, he scanned the horizon. His heart sank as he saw smoke. Sprinting through the field, Prudii hoped against hope that his family was all right.

Ahead, he heard the sound of blaster bolts. Dha and their father were standing back-to-back in full Mandalorian armor, firing at unseen enemies. Prudii approached them.

"Prudii!" his father yelled. "Go! Protect your mother and sister!"

Prudii started to protest, but his father had already leapt forward, ramming his knuckle vibroblade up into the chin of an enemy. Sighing, Prudii sprinted toward the house, hoping his father and brother could hold their own. He reached home to find his mother kneeling on the porch just outside the door, firing a blaster pistol.

"Mom–"

"Prudii, get down!" she yelled.

He dropped just as a volley of blaster bolts shot over his head. Whirling, he opened fire, taking down two bogies. He rolled across the ground to the cover of the half-underground porch.

"Briika?" he asked.

"I sent her down the escape tunnel," his mother said. "She's already headed for Clan Ordo's homestead."

"She's six," he said. "What if they dig into the tunnel?"

His mother's face sank. "You're right. Go. Protect her."

"No, mom, you–"

"Prudii. Please. I can hold them here longer than you can. We are Mandalorian warriors, son. Fight well, die well."

Tears filling his eyes, he nodded. "Fight well." He couldn't bring himself to say the rest. "Good luck."

He sprinted down the tunnel at the back of the house. He found his baby sister, barely up to his knees, toddling along down the tunnel, tears streaming from her red eyes. He knelt and patted her on the head. She was a beautiful little Chiss that Prudii's parents had taken in after they'd found her orphaned on a battlefield.

"Mother and father–" she started.

He nodded. "Don't worry. Just go."

An hour later, it was all over. Prudii dropped her off at the Ordo homestead and returned as quickly as he could. His house was fully ablaze now, and he felt tears stream down his face at the sight of his mother's body. Rage filled him and he charged into the fields. He found his father's body, too, along with those of three of his killers. Dha was nowhere to be seen. Biting down on a scream of sadness and rage, he rolled over the body of one of the killers, determined to see who had killed his father and mother.

It was an Imperial trooper. The Empire had betrayed them–

Prudii jolted awake, sweat streaming down onto his pillow. He glanced over at Elara. Not surprisingly, she had been awakened. She sat up.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes," he panted. "I...I'm fine."

"All right. Good night."

"Good night, Elara. I love you."

I spent some time my medcenter room going through the rest of my mail. There was way too much of it; price of being out for three weeks, I guess.

The protocol droid blipped in the doorway. "Captain Savins, you have visitors."

I switched the holo off, checked my hair, and followed the little droid into a visitation room. There were two people in there. "Sergeant," I said. "And – Mama?"

Dorne stood up in a hurry. So did my mother. I got a queer uncomfortable feeling wondering what they had found to talk about.

"My boy." Mama rushed up to hug me tight. When she backed off she gripped my arms and checked my face. "Whatever they've been feeding you, they'll need to give you more of it."

She always did worry. "I'll get more now that I can use forks instead of tubes." I bent to kiss her forehead and then looked at Dorne. Mama stepped aside to let me go to her, but I felt stuck in place. I nodded. "Sergeant."

"Leftenant, sir. Since we got home."

"That's great. Congratulations."

"You're a major as soon as you can sign off."

"Yeah. Good. I'm just glad to be breathing."

"I'm glad to see it myself, Major."

Mama cleared her throat. "I'm sure you two have squad business to catch up on. Vierce, I'll call you later?"

"Absolutely. We should have supper."

She smiled, bright-eyed. "I wouldn't want to take you away from your squad."

"My squad doesn't get to take me away from you. Nobody does. I'll call you in a bit."

"Until then, Vierce." Mama gave me a last smile and headed out, leaving me and Dorne alone.

I looked around. It didn't feel like anyone was watching. So I closed the distance in two steps, swept Dorne up off the ground, and kissed her.

"I didn't mean to end our last conversation that suddenly," I told her.

She wrapped her arms around me as if she were afraid I might let her fall. "They said you might not wake up. Frankly, my initial evaluation led me to fear as much myself."

"I couldn't just leave things where they were."

She smiled a little shakily and kissed me again. Then she hid her face against my shoulder and just held on.

I freed up a hand to stroke her beautiful loose hair. There was a wave to it you'd never know was there when it was tied up in her day-to-day bun. "Jorgan hasn't been working you too hard, has he?"

"No. Hardly enough to keep my mind off things."

"Huh, and I always took him for the drill-sergeant kind of commander."

"He's been shaken, sir. We all have been."

"You can call me Vierce. Instead of 'sir'."

She gave a small nervous breath of a laugh. "That won't do in the company of others."

"No one here but us."

"Very well. Vierce." She was looking at my mouth instead of my eyes. Well, fine then. I kissed her forehead, then her lips, and touched her hair, her back, reassuring myself that she was here, with me, and safe. She was checking the same of me. Every touch sent a little thrill through me.

She pulled up closer and took in a tiny sharp breath. "In all fairness, Vierce, you should call me Elara when we're alone," she whispered, and got back to kissing me.

"Anything you want, Elara." The words took a while to deliver in the tiny breathless breaks we were occasionally taking.

"Anything." She smiled, then suddenly nipped my lower lip, startling a gasp out of me. "I like the sound of that."

"I could get used to it myself," I said. Once I got over the fact that Elara Dorne was flirting with me (and then some) and the fact that I liked it. I could definitely get used to it, just as soon as my head stopped spinning.

I had a question, though. I broke away. "Do you know when I can come back on duty? The droid was saying weeks. That's not acceptable."

She sobered a little. "It's the same thing I would recommend for any other person," she said. "It's only responsible for them to say three to five weeks."

"That won't do. Can't I get a doctor's note from you clearing me for duty?"

"I have repeatedly stated that you reliably outperform all physical requirements of the job," and she gave me both a tiny smile and a speculative look that damn near destroyed my ability to think, "but they won't take my word for it. Just demand the chance for a physical at the first opportunity. You'll be able to handle any tests they try to put you through. That is…" and she got serious…"I hope you can. Don't push yourself beyond your limits. Your condition was very dire."

"Yeah. But you were there to make sure I got out alive."

She laid a hand on the undamaged side of my face. "I was and will be, sir."

When I remembered how to talk again, I managed to say "You know something?" Dorne – Elara – raised her eyebrows and waited. "I've been waiting for…it's months, now, to tell you you're beautiful."

I had already seen more shades of her smiling in these last ten minutes than I had in the last year. Here was another one, dazzling, excited. "Thank you."

"I should take you out someplace nice before I go back full-time. Any place would be an upgrade after Hoth and the Gauntlet; I'm thinking 'not even a little bit fatal' for the next outing. Just for variety."

"That would be appreciated." She hugged me tighter. "Welcome back, Vierce."

She was at once new and completely at home in my arms. "Glad to be here, Elara."

I sat down to lunch with Jorgan so he could fill me in on squad operations. The two of us had a little table looking out over a big courtyard not far from the Senate plaza. Pretty place. The holostatues and moving crowds were soothing to look at. Anything that wasn't a kolto tank would've been nice to look at just then.

"Looking over my own med report," I said, "I am a little surprised I'm not dead."

Jorgan snorted. "Nah. Dorne had you in hand the second we reached the ship. Actually, she didn't sleep the first few days. Wasn't anything she could do once you were stabilized in kolto, but she stayed up anyway."

"She shouldn't have worried." I hated thinking that I'd made her do it. "You guys got me out in time."

"Yeah," said Jorgan. Then, carefully, "If it's not one thing with you two, it's another."

I didn't say anything.

He waited for a while, then stood and made to leave. I kept looking down over the courtyard. "Whatever happens, I wouldn't compromise the rest of you on her account," I said.

Jorgan thought about it. He nodded. "From you, Savins, I believe that." Then he walked away.

No way to get around the fact that a relationship in a work situation like this can become a liability at any time.

Two months is months, plural. After Vierce started paying attention there was a week on Quesh, two on Hoth, a third week on Hoth while she's out of order, three weeks in kolto...okay, almost plural months.

In other news, Elara Dorne is the classiest lady ever to strike me as having some startlingly forward flirts. I love that about her.

Poor Jorgan has been forced to track "the Dorne cycle" ever since she came on board, largely so he'll know when to duck. His trepidation at that whole problem thing of theirs turning into an even higher-intensity problem of theirs has got to be enormous.

Prudii strode away from Clan Ordo's camp, tears streaming down his face. He'd left poor Briika in the their care. He couldn't take care of her, not on his own. He dashed the tears off his face and hopped on his speeder. He was done here. There was no way the Empire could have gotten onto Mandalore without someone's help. Someone important. Besides that, they had a contract, one the Empire had broken, and their "glorious leader" was ignoring this blatant violation, buying the Empire's excuse of the attackers being rogues. Rogue my shebs, he thought.

He arrived at the spaceport, logged his exit, and flew out of the Mandalore system without a second thought. He didn't know where his brother was, and he couldn't find out by himself. Not now. But he could get revenge. Pulling the hyperspace lever, he made for Nar Shaddaa.

Prudii looked up, bleary-eyed, at his squad. They sat in the main hold, listening solemnly to his story. Jorgan and Vik had steel in their eyes. Dorne had tears welling. Yuun, as usual, managed to look both sympathetic and totally emotionless in a way that Prudii couldn't explain. Forex stood in stoic silence. HK-51 was shut down in the cargo hold. There was no reason for him to hear this.

"But the Empire was lying about them being rogues," Jorgan said. It wasn't a question.

Prudii nodded. "Yes. They were. Actually, it was a training mission, a kriffing training mission, meant to improve the soldiers under the command of a certain Dark Lord."

"Which Dark Lord?" Dorne asked.

Prudii glanced at her, haunted. "Tormen."

* * *

Dha awoke with a start, seeing again Darth Tormen strangling Mako from across his desk, dispassion evident on his face. He glanced over at her, relieved that she was alive, very much alive, and she was his wife, and they had a child that was healthy.

He went back to another time, a time when Tormen had first nearly ruined his life.

Dha blasted the Imperial trooper in the gut, turned, and roundhouse kicked one in the chin. Then he rammed his vibroblade up another one's gut. He panted heavily and stood back-to-back with his father. They were surrounded, more Imperial troopers pouring in to the field all the time.

Suddenly, the blasterfire stopped.

"Well, well," a rasping voice said.

Dha turned. A red-skinned being strode coldly into the field. He was clad in the robes of a Sith. Dha snarled and trained his blaster on the Sith's head. The Sith waved a hand and Dha's blaster went flying. Then he reached out and began strangling Dha's father with his blasted Force.

"Stop!" Dha's father rasped. "If you're going to kill me, do it like a man!"

The Dark Lord glared at him, hate filling his eyes. Then he turned to one of his troopers.

"They are not worth my time," he growled. "Kill them."

"Yes, Lord Tormen."

As Tormen stalked away, Dha leapt forward, firing his wrist blaster at point-blank range. He took down three Imperials before they killed his father. Dha roared in hatred and ran as fast as he could. No point dying now. He reached his family's home and found his mother's corpse, too. He shouted for his brother. No response. Turning, Dha ran for the barn at the back of the house, where he kept his modified star-skimmer. There was nothing here for him now. But he still had his skills. He'd make something of himself yet...

Then had come his meeting with Braden, and the Great Hunt, and Mako. And he'd regained his lost honor and rejoined the Mandalorians. Only after being framed by Jun Seros had he met Tormen again...and been robbed his chance for revenge when Tormen threatened to kill Mako. And he'd finally gotten it right, taken his revenge, when he'd killed both Seros and Tormen. All was right. Feeling better, he let sleep take him again.

There should be at least one more of these. Dha's part in this has been explained, so all that remains is to tell how Prudii joined the Republic. Look for it, coming soon...

Prudii stepped out of the Club Vertica Casino, feeling odd in the less-than-heavyweight armorweave he'd taken to wearing since he left Mandalore. He'd been making his living as a bounty hunter and soldier-for-hire for the past four years now, and he still couldn't bury his feelings. Nor could he force himself to return to Mandalore to care for his little sister, or search for his lost brother.

He had just finished a contract bringing in an Imperial officer to a gangster who had been cheated out of an arms deal by the officer. With that done, Prudii was without a job. What would he do now? Scowling, he kicked idly at an empty can of ale. And then he heard it.

Someone was shouting, and there was the sound of blows of a fist against someone's face. Prudii whipped out his blaster and stepped toward the alley. A pair of off-duty Imperial troopers were beating an innocent-looking man. They were obviously drunk. Prudii stepped into the alley, seeing an opportunity to vent his rage.

"Step away from him. Now," he commanded.

One of the Imperials whirled, scowling. He reached drunkenly for his blaster, and Prudii fired. The blaster bolt took him in the hand. He shrieked in agony and dropped his blaster. The other reached for a vibroknife, and Prudii jumped forward and slammed his fist into his face. His eye instantly blackened, the trooper dropped. Together, the Imperials turned tail and ran. The man they'd been beating rubbed his head.

"You all right?" Prudii asked.

The man nodded. "Uh, yeah. Fine."

"Name's Prudii," he said, extending his hand.

The other man took it. "Andronikos Revel. Good to meet you."

Prudii looked at the man's uniform. "Republic?"

Andronikos nodded. "Yeah."

Two Republic soldiers in combat vests ran into the alley, rifles trained. Andronikos looked up and waved to them in greeting.

"Captain," one said. "You all right, sir?"

Andronikos nodded. "Yeah, fine."

One turned to Prudii. "We caught those Imps running. Your work?"

Prudii nodded. "Yeah."

The trooper patted him on the shoulder. "Good work. You got something against the Imps?"

"You better believe I do."

"Good. You ever think of joining the Republic Army?"

Prudii hadn't. But it sounded good. "I'll think about it."

"Magnificent." The trooper grinned. "Come with me. We'll get you signed up."

"Shortly after that," Prudii said, "I found out that Captain Andronikos deserted. Despite that, he was the one who was ultimately responsible for my joining the Republic. A few years later, I got signed on to Havoc Squad, went to Ord Mantell...and the rest, as they say, is history."

The rest of the squad considered that in silence.

"Well," Jorgan said. "Now that you've got that off your chest, maybe you can get some sleep."

Prudii nodded, rubbing his eyes. "Yeah. Maybe I can."

"Good night, crew," Jorgan said. He returned to the dormitory.

"Night," Vik muttered, following him.

"Rest well," Yuun said.

Forex saluted, returned to his usual resting place, and shut down. Prudii glanced at Elara.

"Ready to get some sleep?" Prudii asked.

"Let's," Elara agreed.

Once upon a time, not too long ago, there was a bounty hunter. Now there are many bounty hunters in the galaxy, some are swift and some are strong, some are brave and some are shrewd. Our hero was…

…the most cunning hunter in a long and proud line of Mandalorians.

…strong and noble despite the fact that the hunter's family was disgraced among Mandalorians.

…all of these things and not Mandalorian.

A successful hunter must be a number of things, part businessman, part soldier, part negotiator, part spy, but every hunter excels or fails based on what he or she values most. Which is why when the Great Hunt was called, and the best in the galaxy were invited, our hero…

…answered it, knowing that winning would bring glory to the clan.

…answered it, hoping to restore the family name.

…ignored it, having nothing to prove.

The Great Hunt progresses in secret, but the targets appear to be regular bounties. Each target is given to at least two hunters, but anyone could learn of a particular bounty. That is how our hero came face to face with...

...a pair of worthless hunters unworthy of a place in the Great Hunt.

...another Mandalorian, who cared nothing for the honor of the Great Hunt only glory for himself.

...two Mandalorians, both contestants in the game.

Remi sat with her feet propped up on a console watching martial forms holomovies. The comm beeped and she answered with her foot. The image of Ardun Kothe appeared above the holoprojector. "Grey, good to see you."

"Kothe," Remi answered warily putting her feet on the floor.

"Are you familiar with the Great Hunt?"

She paused wondering how much he already knew, "If certain cryptic job offers I’ve received were true, I was invited to try."

"I take it you declined."

"I don't hunt for sport." She replied shortly. She did not care for making a game out of taking lives, no matter the tradition or culture behind it.

He nodded sympathetically, "I need you to track down one of the participants."

"Sorry, I can't right now, I'm working on something."

"He’s a big shot Mandalorian bounty hunter and he doesn't seem to care about collateral damage. His last mark died in an explosion along with about a hundred civilians."

"Sounds like a job for solid operatives and some military backup. Not a mercenary. Who is busy." She said pointedly.

"He's in neutral territory right now, we think it’s the final round. Only this time the mark isn't a person, it's an object. A lightsaber."

“In a museum?" She asked hopefully.

"Carried by a Sith."

Remi sighed, "I don't do Sith, Ardun." She put her feet back on the console.

"We don't care about the Sith," Kothe said to what was probably a projection of her boot, "But if you find the mark you’ll find the hunter. I'm sending you the target's data."

"What part of 'No' are you not hearing?"

"Just take a look at it, we'd prefer the hunter alive, but use your best judgment."

The comm winked out leaving Remi staring at an empty terminal that blinked with new messages. She grumbled to herself but read the files. The Sith had no powerful associations and his name was not given, he was a Lord not a Darth, and moved through neutral territory seemingly at random. She sent his image to her holoprojector.

"Crap." She muttered and dove for the hyperdrive controls, plotting a course for the target's last known location.

The target was a lightsaber carried by a Sith. His origins and identity were something of a mystery but the lightsaber itself was part legend. Centuries ago a Sith fought an ancient Rancor, a demonstration of his power to a young Hutt. A tooth from the powerful beast was used to craft the hilt. Whoever held the lightsaber was owed a boon by the young Hutt, who by now was well established on Nar Shaddaa.

Hutts do not like debts unless it is one owed to them, so after years of waiting he sought to reclaim the hilt promising to treat the bearer as the hilt’s rightful owner.

A boon from a Hutt is no small thing. The value of such a bounty meant that...

...the hunter would have enough to build a massive power base, one that would rival Mandalore’s.

...the hunter would be able to clear his family's debts and join the elite among bounty hunters as Champion of the Great Hunt.

…the Hutt would never stop chasing the lightsaber even if both contestants were eliminated.

It is unlikely that a Sith would simply give up his lightsaber even if he was unaware of its true value. The hunters would have to study his movements and strike when he was vulnerable.

Unfortunately, he would not fall prey to the distractions that worked on an average man or Sith. He had no interest in the cruelty of slave pits or the enticement of brothels. He ignored local rumors about holocrons and artifacts. He was careful with his defenses and uncanny about traps, it was as if his entire existence was one of joyless paranoia.

After weeks of watching and planning the hunters were ready to move.

Remi watched her quarry from a tiny ledge high up on the side of a mountain. She had been tracking the Mandalorians for weeks knowing that they not only hunted the Sith but each other as well.

The man on the clearing below was quiet, careful, and polite to the locals. He worked alone and had a keen tracking sense. Now he waited, staring down the scope of a high powered sniper rifle. He was not the one she was after.

A single pebble rolled down the mountainside followed by a high pitched whine. The hunter rolled to his feet leaving his rifle in place and dove for cover as his perimeter defenses exploded revealing half a dozen mercenaries who opened fire on his former position.

Remi focused on her target who led the gang of newcomers. He was loud, aggressive, and deceptively cocky. His entourage consisted of slicers and thugs, not true Mandalorians. He had planned to let his competitor do all the work then take the spoils for himself. It was apparent now that the sniper had used this remote location to draw out his rival. Another pair of explosions eliminated most of the combatants leaving only the Mandalorians to square off.

Remi scanned the area for more explosives. Finding none, she threw a flash grenade at their feet and shielded her eyes. Even at a distance the grenade would blind, at point blank the concussive force would knock them both cold, even through beskar. At least that's what her supplier insisted.

She made her way to where the fight had ended checking for survivors. Finding Kothe's target alive, she froze him in carbonite then waited for the sniper to wake. The man was quick to recover and even quicker to his feet but he did not attack, instead he assessed the situation. His helmet had slipped off and his eyes flicked to the frozen statue of his former adversary then to the pile of his weapons just out of easy reach.

"What do you want?" He asked finally.

"I want you to win the Great Hunt," Remi replied.

He frowned, "It will be easier to defeat the Sith without having to watch my back for that chakaar but I didn't need your help earlier and I don't now."

"You're after a lightsaber not a Sith."

"You can’t separate one from the other without death."

Remi held up a lightsaber with the tooth of a rancor embedded in the hilt.

His frown turned into a scowl at the implied insult, "You can't just pass off any lightsaber, there are ways to identify the tooth."

She tossed him the hilt, "Do it."

He gave her another hard stare, but scanned the hilt with his datapad, it read positive. He gaped at Remi’s faceless mask. "How did you do it?"

She shrugged and they traded silent stares.

"So tell me," he said holding the lightsaber almost nervously, "Why not turn this in yourself? The bounty is worth more than ten lifetimes of hunting."

"No one can know I'm involved. Your silence is my price."

"And what about him?" He pointed his chin at the carbon statue.

"There’s a bounty on him too, I'd like you to turn him over to the authorities."

"What if I kill him?"

She shrugged again, "Your choice, I’m not sure he'd go to something better if you turn him in."

"So I collect on two bounties I didn't earn in exchange for my silence. What do you get?" He eyed her speculatively then looked at his sniper rifle, "The Sith? He something to you?"

"He," Remi hesitated, "He saved my life once. I owe him."

He studied her for a long time. She could not guess what a Force-blind could read from a still figure in full body armor. "A life debt then, fine, you have my silence. I'll turn in that shabuir, leave him to me."

Remi nodded and moved to leave.

"You know," The hunter said before she could fire her jet pack, "He should be back soon, you could use that to see him." He pointed to his rifle.

She faced the young hunter, apparently he saw more than he should. She shook her head, "He was never going to return to that bunker." She sped off before he could say another word.

"And that is how your father was sent to a Republic prison colony to serve out two life sentences. The hut'uun that dares call himself a Mandalorian hired outside help to defeat your father. Then like a chakaar he made a deal with that Sith to get his lightsaber, he could never have defeated one in combat." The fierce woman looked down at her child, he had still been in her womb when his father joined the Great Hunt, her husband's unpaid debts and many enemies had ruined their family name. "When you grow older and stronger, you will kill that aruetii and reclaim our family's honor." The young boy nodded seriously, his eyes shone with Mandalorian pride. His father's armor stood in a corner, returned to them as a sign of pity by the one who had destroyed them. One day soon he would wear the armor and begin his own hunt for honor and revenge.

"And so your father won the Great Hunt restoring honor to our family name." The woman smiled down at the little girl in her arms. She was too young to understand the story but she knew that it made her mother happy. The woman looked up to see her husband, the Champion of the Great Hunt, watching them. He wore a bittersweet smile. She would never understand why he always looked sad when she told the story of his triumph.

Itotta the Hutt watched the newly crowned Grand Champion of the Great Hunt walk away with a deed to a lush hunting zone on a remote planet, everything a Mandalorian clan could ask for. When the man was out of sight the Hutt handed the saber to his droid. It disassembled the hilt revealing that the rancor tooth was hollow, it was also empty.

"Echuta!" the Hutt swore flicking his tail. The droid crumpled from the impact and the lightsaber pieces flew in every direction.

The Hutt looked around trying to find another target for his rage. The pieces of the saber began to float. They rose from the floor circling the Hutt briefly before reforming into a lightsaber. The weapon drifted to the hand of a figure hidden in the shadows.

Lord Scourge emerged igniting the saber, "It was not wise to put a bounty on my head for all to see, Itotta. Did you think I would not notice my own face on a bounty board?"

The Hutt reached for the emergency button on his platform.

"Your guards are unable to respond, they are all quite dead."

"Karking Sith, I only wanted my life back," Itotta slumped in defeat, "What are you going to do?"

"For now, nothing. You are still useful to me." The Sith turned and walked away, the Hutt let out an audible breath, "But remember, Itotta, usefulness has its limits." Scourge clenched his fist. The Hutt squealed and doubled over batting helplessly at his face. The power of the Force squeezed one of his large reptilian eyes until it burst. "Think on that while your eye regenerates. Then think on what else I will do to you if you betray me again."

"And that is how Hunter Grey saved the Sith." Scourge said to the child in his arms. Koa's golden eyes blinked up at him his expression full of wonder. Hunter Grey stories were his favorite.

"Da?"

"Yes?"

"What was supposed to be in the lightsaber?"

Lord Scourge chuckled and carried his son to the bed tucking him in. "That, my son, is a story for another day." He kissed the boy's forehead and ruffled his hair. "Now go to sleep." He said in a mock commanding voice. Koa giggled and kicked his legs a few times then settled closing his eyes obediently.

Scourge turned to leave and found Remi leaning against the doorway watching them.

"You shouldn't fill his head with tales like that," she admonished softly.

"They are not tales," Scourge replied shutting the door, "However, I did wonder how Hunter Grey was able to obtain the Sith's lightsaber."

She tiptoed to kiss him. "She knew he had a spare, identical to the one he carried with him. How she stole it and when is also a story for another day."

The smile that touched his lips contained equal measures of love and heat, he scooped her into his arms, "My hero," he whispered.

Mando'a

beskar - Mandalorian Iron

chakaar - thief, petty criminal, scumbag; Literally: "grave robber"; general term of abuse

shabuir - extreme insult - "jerk", but much stronger

hut'uun - coward

Hutteese

Echuta - general expletive

I hope the formatting makes sense. If not quick explanation:

The story, in italics, is slightly different based on the person telling it. Each story is told almost exactly the same way except where the color of the text is different. Between the italic parts is "what actually happened"

Red is the guy who went to prison, Green is the guy who won, Grey is Remi.

They were contradictions that contrasted, but even so, the hulking Rattataki with the grace of a schoolteacher and the scrawny Coruscanti Sullustan accompanying him drew no stares from the diverse populace of Tatooine. Slaves, children, and slave children scuttled about unimportantly while hardened criminals strode purposefully through and around them and the spice addicts stumbled around.

Kouhun blinked against the sand that the constantly present hot breeze blew everywhere. Rizantos fared worse with his large wet eyes; Kouhun pitied him, one of the only reasons he hadn’t ditched him with the credits. They stood at the top of the steps to the spaceport, taking in Tatooine.

Empty cargo carriers and deactivated lifter droids situated near the bottom of the stairs indicated a large moving had occurred recently. Grabbing a passing security guard, Kouhun asked about it.

“Yeah, that mess over there is Czerka’s work. Enlisted most of my shift to help them get their junk off this rock and then paid us their minimum wage.”

“I assume that wasn’t much?”

“I would’ve made more doing my real job.”

“You mean standing there and staring at people leaving the spaceport?” Rizz interjected rudely.

The officer appeared to get angry for a second but then his eyes took on a different shade.

“That reminds me, I forgot to charge you two the customs tax. That’ll be two thousand credits, each.”

Kouhun stared at Rizz in his peripheral vision as they proceeded down the spaceport stairs and into the thin throng of people. Most of them avoided eye contact, and those who didn’t quickly glanced away.

Sometimes even giving someone a wrong look on this planet was enough for them to pull a piece and shoot you just for fun.

“We can still probably find an okay flat to stay in.” Rizz said, trying to rectify his blunder.

Kouhun didn’t respond as they continued walked aimlessly.

“Look, I’ll go find us a cheap place while you look for a job.” Rizz suggested, stopping Kouhun and pointing towards a nearby cantina.

“Fine.” The Rattataki said simply and altered his course to head towards the cantina.

There was no guard at the door. A wave of music and the assorted voices and noises of an uncountable number of species hit him as he descended down the stairs to the main level. New smells and tastes also invaded his senses; Kouhun was almost certain he would get permanent lung damage just from inhaling the air in this place, let alone eating something.

As was outside, most of the denizens innocent and criminal alike in the cantina avoided the hulking alien for their own safety. A Jawa sitting at the bar quickly skirted away as he approached the bar counter.

The bartender was a bored-looking male Devaronian. Kouhun had taught one of those before and it always confounded him as to how they told each other apart, looking so similar.

“I am looking for work.” Kouhun stated.

“Is that so?” The demon-like alien replied in a flat tone.

“Quite.” Kouhun replied sharply, irritated with the lack of attention he seemed to warrant.

“Alright friend, calm down.” The Devaronian replied, his eyes lightening up a bit in alarm and automatically searching for an escape route from his own bar.

Noticing the action, Kouhun softened his tone. “I’m just looking for a job for my friend and me.”

The Devaronian stopped to think for a moment, a clearly feigned action.

“Well, the mayor is looking for some knuckleheads to do a couple of odd-jobs for him. I suggest swinging by his office.” he finally drawled out.

“Thank you.” Kouhun dropped ten of their remaining credits on the counter and turned to the exit, seeking to escape the claustrophobic atmosphere of the bar.

Now to find Rizantos.