Wanted: Dead or Alive (a SWTOR tale)

[sinaedh]

I've been feeling now and again that I need to write... usually when I should be working on school powerpoints or grading papers. But I have given in to the urge, and since I've been mostly playing SWTOR lately, that's where this is coming from.

[sinaedh]

I’ll warn you straight out, this is a love story. I didn’t know that going in; I was young and on top of the world, and strangely enough that didn’t mean I was thinking about love. But life’s a love story, and I’ve lived a lot of life. There’s some who won’t believe me, and I probably wouldn’t have either, until I felt it. Those who don’t believe will find out, or end up dead or in prison. Makes no never-mind to me.

When I say love story, I don’t mean those mushy holo-tales, either. I mean deep ache in your gut, howling in the wild alternating with contentment so great you’re convinced the Universe does whatever you want it to. That’s what I’ve lived. That’s love. That’s life.

It all began when I was twenty-two. I was at the top of my game, or so I thought. I was quite a hand with the blasters, and not too shabby with my fists. I’d fought in the Cauldron now and again, and in the side pits, and I won enough that friends and enemies alike began to make arcane signs with their fingers behind their backs when I walked by. I won enough that a challenger invested in sorcerer’s potions to poison me. After I got done puking my guts out and bloodying my fists with his face (some things just have to be dealt with using fists), I began to think maybe it was time for me to leave my homeworld. Time to leave before I began worrying my brothers and sisters would be targets used to keep me from winning more.

I’d saved enough credits to have freighter fare offworld, and that’s where the message finally found me. I’d heard of him by then, news does travel, even in the Outer Rim. He was an old bounty hunter, and impressive simply because he’d lived long enough to retire. And he’d heard of me. That was a massive stroke to my ego. He wanted me to be his entry into the Great Hunt.

Now that wasn’t a thing too many got the chance for. Mandalorians, sure, they had an in if they wanted, but outsiders had to have a sponsor, and it cost plenty of credits, so sponsors were selective. But he thought he had a way in for me. And I’ll be damned if I didn’t think once I was in, I’d win the Hunt outright. Just shows how little I knew, and how much I had to learn. So I scraped together what I had and got myself to Hutta. And I first laid eyes on her.

It wasn’t a gut punch, not right away. Sure she was pretty, in a sort of human way. And smart. Efficient. But at my advanced age, I put her down as young. And he, without saying a word, let me know that she was by all rights save genetics his daughter, so I’d best watch my step. That didn’t matter too much to me, I had a lot of work to do and there were always chippies around the cantina who’d believe you’d give them enough credits to buy passage out of Hutta if only they’d put out for you. And some who didn’t need credits, too.

So I began my work. I had to convince one of the most conniving worms in the Galaxy (and by that I mean a Hutt) that I was the best choice for him to enter in the Hunt. Things started out fine. I truly was a master with a blaster. But tragedy struck, and with it, my understanding of life changed.

[sinaedh]

“Stop right there, Rattataki scum!”

I turned slowly, a tenuous grip on my temper. I’d been slogging through the marshes of Hutta, grimacing as acidic polluted waters ate into my armor and that didn’t put me into the best mood. Even though I’d completed the rather menial job the Hutt had sent me on, I didn’t feel much pride in strong-arming the local tribal elders to get information about stolen metals, nor a great satisfaction in returning that cache to the fawning arms of the Hutt’s manufacturing droids. I had to impress the Hutt so that I could get the chip naming me as his entry to the Great Hunt. If that meant wading through all the muck of Hutta, then that’s what I’d do. But all I wanted then was to shed my armor, clean it up as best I could, and maybe swallow a few dozen ales in the cantina.

The Imperial Lieutenant rocked on his heels then rose up on the balls of his feet as he watched me, two troopers stationed behind him at the ready. I thought probably the very shiny insignia on his collar were new. He had something to prove, and had to look way up into my face to find some way to do it. I had to decide if he was going to get the chance to impress his superiors at my expense, and decide quickly. Then again… my goal here was the Hunt. If I got tangled up in Empire business, or had them on my tail, I’d probably never get the chance to prove my mettle. Though I’ve been accused of cursing and kicking things first, I do on occasion think. This was one of those times. So I nodded slowly, with what I hoped was sufficient respect. “May I help you, Sir?”

That set him back a bit. “I… er…,” he ducked his head and consulted a datapad. “You are Vorgren Dallu, of Rattatak, in the employ of the Chiss Daan’tzan’aradi?”

I frowned. “No.” It seemed strange to me that such a mistake had been made. “Name’s Vraxan Saros.” I didn’t see any reason to hide my identity, the Imp could find out quickly enough if he cared.

Now the young officer was truly flustered. “But the Rhodian said…,” he glanced over his shoulder, back toward the spaceport. There were milling beings there just like normal, but no Rhodians that I could see. “Ahem.” He shook his head and looked back at me. “Well, tread lightly, Rattataki. And if you see this Vorgren, contact Imperial Intelligence immediately.”

“Of course, Sir. Is that all?” I truly had to bite my tongue to refrain from commenting on Imp Intell. The Great Hunt. The Great Hunt. It was a mantra that was keeping me out of trouble I didn’t need.

“Yes.” The officer’s face reddened and he gestured with one hand. “Move along.”

“Yes sir.” I turned, but with an itchy feel in the middle of my back. You never could read the eyes of Imp troopers, not with the helmet hiding any expression they might have. Even though I was pretty sure I could cow the officer, you never could tell if you’d run across a gung-ho trooper trying to rise above the ranks. So I walked quickly toward the Hutt’s offices to collect my pay and to get myself out of the sight of the Imps. It was only after I had entered, turned a few corners and was deep in the opulent riot of the Hutt’s inner sanctum that I finally relaxed. The Hutt didn’t have anything to gain by turning the wrong Rattataki in to the Imps. If he had, I’d probably be languishing in a cell already.

She was waiting there, standing in a hallway she probably knew I’d have to pass through to meet the Hutt’s major-domo. “I’ve found out some more information about the Hunt,” she said without preamble. “And also got a line on some ordinance that will be of use.”

I nodded, and now I did smile. “Thanks, Darling.” I ignored the quick flush and grimace, knowing she didn’t really mind, or if she did, I’d hear about it from the aged hunter. “You’re indispensable. But all I want just now is creds, clean armor and a few ales.”

“Do me a favor and talk to Darden first?” She walked along with me as I turned in my chit from the droids and collected my pay from the Twi’lek who worked for the Hutt.

After confirming with the Twi’lek that there were no current jobs the Hutt had for me, I turned and walked with her back toward the buildings that surrounded the Hutt’s palace. “What’s so urgent?”

She frowned and shook her head. “He sent me here to wait for you. It’s only been about an hour, but… I haven’t heard from him or Tantru since.”

I looked down at her. She was frowning, walking quickly toward Darden’s workshop. “Hold on. You think something’s wrong?”

“Well, they don’t communicate with me every moment of every day, but…,” she tapped the implants near her right ear. “Things have gone too quiet.”

“All right then.” I pulled my helmet back on. “I go in first. Stay behind me, and stay quiet.” I unholstered a blaster and took her arm, reinforcing the order, then hit the switch, opening the outer door to Darden’s shop.

[sinaedh]

We knew something was wrong right away. The acrid odor of discharged blasters mixed with a whiff of blood. I knew the smell, and it seemed she did too. She pushed up close to my back, but I still had one arm back, fearing she’d rush right in. After a gulp and shudder, she eased back and let me go ahead. My respect for her doubled right there.

Darden was sprawled on the floor near a console. He at least had his blaster out, but I didn’t think he’d gotten off a shot. Tantru, the elder Trandoshan who had been Darden’s partner for years was close by. He’d gotten off a shot, I could tell by the scuff and jumble directly across from him. A pile of droid components had been scattered, and a few were scored and blackened. But whoever had done this was gone. After a careful sweep of the shop, I holstered my blaster and glanced at her.

“Darden!” she cried as she raced forward. “Oh no!” She collapsed to her knees by the old man, taking his hand in hers. I shook my head. There wasn’t really anything I could do just now. But inwardly, I promised her. There would be payment for this.

She looked up at me, tears streaming down her face. “Who did this?”

“You have monitors installed?” I glanced pointedly at the corner, where I knew there was at least one device. “Let’s check.” I knew it would be hard for her, but I needed to know. I needed a hard target.

She nodded and rose, moving to a computer console, then frowning. “It’s been compromised, but…” Biting her lip, she worked with the machine, her fingers dancing over an input. “There,” she murmured and looked at the holoprojector.

I watched as two heavily armed humans walked into the shop. Darden turned quickly, confronting them. The older of the two, scarred and tattooed, grinned evilly as he explained his purpose. “Mandolorians live by a code of honor, as you know. I’m not allowed to flat out kill opponents until the Hunt begins. But there are other ways of crippling a rival. Say you were to decimate the crew… then the name Randal Forte will be added to the list of winners of the Great Hunt. So you backed the wrong hunter, old man. Time to retire for good.”

“Shoot to kill, Tantru!” I watched Darden and the Trandoshan pull blasters free. Tantru missed his first shot, but scored on the younger of the intruders, sending him flying into the droid parts. But Darden and Tantru were outmatched, and fell. I looked at her, and without thinking put my arm around her, pulling her close. “This Randal Forte will pay.”

She looked up at me and nodded, tears still streaming. “Thanks. I… I need to make arrangements for Darden… and Tantru. But it will take the last of our credits. And we still need to get you in with the Hutt.”

I smiled, though I imagine it was more feral than I intended. I had my target. “Take care of them. Do what you need to do. There are bounties out there. I’m going to take most of them, get them done. The Hutt will see what I can do. We’ll get in. And I’ll take down those bastards.” I gestured to the now-quiet holoprojector.

She looked up at me and wiped away the tears. “You know, I believe you will.”

[sinaedh]

Over the next few days I settled into a routine. I’d visit the Twi’lek in the den of the Hutt, ask after jobs, take those that suited me, and slog out into the swamps. I hunted down an accountant who’d fled to the opposition, finding that Hunting had its own moral dilemmas. Should I take the head of the small man and dump it at his wife’s feet as the Hutt wanted, or should I let the squirming accountant flee?

This was a quandary I’d never had to face in the gladiatorial pits of Rattatak. There, one either fought in payment for a misdeed, or for a trainer, who might enter his charges in entertainment matches or as part of the judicial system. I’d entered the pits as a petty thief, but after paying my debt, was in the employ of a famous trainer, and became successful in my matches. But there never was a decision in the pits other than win or lose.

So what to do? Again I found myself required to make a decision without much time available. Did I complete the bounty, visiting the wrath of a Hutt who had been deceived on an employee who was stupid enough to hang around after crossing his boss? Or did I show mercy, telling the accountant to get off Hutta with his family before I changed my mind? That would make me the one who failed the Hutt. Plus, the Great Hunt and retribution for the death of Darden and Tantru was foremost in my mind. So the polluted swamps of Hutta were slowly cleaned of those who had double-crossed the Hutt.

She kept working as well, putting my name in the Hutt’s lieutenant’s ear so that I acquired more important jobs, and searching out improvements to my weaponry and armor. By the time the pain of Darden’s passing began easing somewhat, the Hutt was relying on me more and more to solve his problems. To a Hutt, that meant money and business. And thanks to me, this Hutt’s business was prospering. So I requested a meeting with the big worm himself after retrieving some technology his competitor had stolen and installed in his own factory. I'd only blown up a few buildings in the process.

The Twi’lek led me into the Hutt’s inner sanctum muttering out of the side of his mouth. “Do not approach until Bar’du gestures. Do not speak until spoken to. Tread lightly, Rattataki. Even though you have done service for the Great Bar’du, you are nothing to him.”

I nodded. I was prepared to be subservient if it got me into the Hunt. Plus, I knew there were sharpshooters hidden around the room, and it wouldn’t take much to overwhelm me if the Hutt wanted it. For my part, blasters or fists weren’t a solution here, unless the Hutt wanted it that way.

I followed the instructions, and listened to the Hutt call me his ‘little hunter’ as he discussed things with his lieutenants. Little? I towered over the Twi’lek and most of the others, but I supposed it was a term of endearment of sorts. I had done a great deal for the Hutt, and he knew it. But he wasn’t going to let me hold that over his head. Finally, his booming voice was directed at me. “So, Hunter, you have served well. We have paid well. But you remain. What is it you seek here on beautiful Hutta?”

I bowed stiffly. “Great Bar’du, you promote one Hunter each time the Great Hunt occurs. I want to be that one. I will bring glory to your name and credits to your accounts when I win.”

My heart sank as the Hutt burst out laughing, the tip of his tail twitching. This wasn’t going well. I worked on keeping my face expressionless as the servants joined their master in laughter, and stood straight and still before him. I couldn’t fail. I couldn’t. Darden had depended on me, and died for me. Slowly, my fingers curled into fists.

Abruptly, Bar’du’s laughter stopped, and as if on cue (or more likely due to practice) so did that of his servants. “Little Hunter,” he boomed, his voice shaking the elegant Alderaanian chandeliers hanging about the room. “You have served me well. I believe you might achieve the boasts you speak of. But I have already given my token to another.” He looked around the room. I watched the tip of his tail, having learned that this was a signal to the emotions and plotting of Hutts. Suddenly the tail stopped moving. I focused on the Hutt’s face. “You are strong,” he boomed. “Should you defeat the one I have given the token to, I would support you as my entry.”

“I will achieve this,” I swore to the Hutt. “Who is the one you’ve given your token to?”

Now the tail began twitching again, and Bar’du gestured to his Twi’lek lieutenant. “Sleetak the Rhodian,” the Twi’lek said. “He remains on Hutta, preparing for departure to Dromund Kaas.”

I nodded. In giving that information, I’d been told, albeit not directly by Bar’du, that there would be no repercussions for any action I’d have to take to get the token from Sleetak. I didn’t know the Rhodian, but I was determined, and once again I had a target. I bowed. “I am grateful, benevolent Bar’du. I will represent you well.”

The Hutt nodded quickly. “That or you will die. Farewell, little Hunter.” With that, I was dismissed to make my way toward my destiny.

[sinaedh]

I found the Rodian’s ship in a lesser used (if you were Imperial—probably more used if you weren’t) section of the spaceport. I eased down to my haunches, watching from a distance as the small green creature worked. His ship was an older Corellian freighter, with assorted newer modifications. I didn’t speak Rodian, but I was a good judge of body language, and I imagined curses as Sleetak used a hydrospanner on an exterior power port, then with a spate of unintelligible words gave up and banged on the exterior cowling with a hammer. I didn’t figure my target would be getting offworld soon.

I was crouching between some large crates that looked like they’d been in the same place for years. I studied the Rodian. Even as he worked on the ship, his blaster was at his side, ready for a quick draw. I wasn’t kidding myself—this wasn’t going to be easy. But maybe the little green man could be reasoned with. I didn’t want to kill him if I didn’t have to.

There wasn’t much other activity at the port. Some distance away, a group of Sallustans swarmed around another ship, a freighter that looked like it had seen a few less hits than the Rodian’s. They were far enough away that they wouldn’t even suspect a confrontation. Still, I waited and watched. If the Rodian had a crew, I wanted to know where they were.

As I watched, the ear clip I wore beeped. I tapped it, and heard her voice, “Only two crew registered with Sleetak. One other Rodian, female, name Reela. Word on the ‘net is she’s his mate. The other is a Togruta male, name Suuran Torg. He’s reported to be Force sensitive.”

“Thanks,” I said softly. “Any intell on where they are? I’ve been watching a while, and haven’t seen either.”

There was a pause, and I imagined I could see her shake her head. “No. I can’t find them on the ‘net. I’d guess on the ship.”

I nodded. “Thanks, Darling.” I grinned as the comm was cut off, then went back to watching. I wasn’t rushing into this blindly if I could avoid it.

As I watched, I spied the Togruta. He walked down the boarding ramp and paused, sweeping his eyes over the surroundings. The elaborate white pigmentation on his face and montrals, the projections that jutted up from his head, stood out against his orange skin and gave him a savage look even to me, and I was used to what the Empire called savage. Heck, I was savage, according to most Imps. I eased back some. I’m not Force sensitive, so I’m never quite sure what that power can do, other than throwing huge chunks of uprooted flooring in my face and slamming me against walls.

Apparently the Togruta didn’t see or sense anything to alarm him. He spoke briefly to the Rodian, then walked out toward the greater spaceport. I watched him go as far as I could see, and continued to wait. Patience is a virtue, so they say. I do know it’s saved my skin a few times.

[sinaedh]

Just as I was getting ready to confront Sleetak, pulling my blasters free and confirming charge and making sure the safeties were off, I happened to spy the Togruta out of the corner of one eye. I didn’t turn to face him, since he was apparently trying to make his way around behind me. I placed one blaster on the ground in front of me, then fiddled with the other, listening and trying to track his progress. I had a pretty defensible position, with crates surrounding me, but if he climbed up high, I might be in trouble.

Unfortunately for the Togruta, his natural inclination was as a pack hunter. He didn’t want to take me out, he wanted to herd me back toward the Rodian, who still was cursing at the spaceship. So when Suuran Torg rushed me, swinging fists instead of simply blasting me in the back, I was ready. My own fists are nothing to sneeze at, but I had to end this quickly and quietly, before Sleetak discovered me. So I flipped up the blaster at my feet, which was set to stun, and fired it point blank at the Togruta. He fell like he’d been head-butted by a bantha. I stepped up and slugged him once just to make sure.

I turned quickly, but Sleetak hadn’t heard anything. I wasn’t sure how long the lump at my feet would be out, so I eased toward the Rodian, walking as quietly as I could, still wary about the last member of the crew. I figured if I could get right behind Sleetak, up under the ship, his mate wouldn’t see me. Ship’s surveillance was normally concentrated on the port and on the landing gear, and the Rodian wasn’t close to either.

Some species have a sort of sense that warns them when a danger is approaching. Most hunters and smugglers, no matter their species, have some form of this, whether innate or learned. If they don’t, they usually don’t last long. The Rodian turned, just as I stepped up behind him. His blaster was in his hand. So was mine. I’d taken the precaution of turning up the charge. No stun now, it was lethality in my hand, just as it was in his. “What you want, Rattataki?” he gurgled through his translator.

I didn’t see any reason for polite conversation. “Bar’du the Hutt’s token for the Great Hunt. Give it over and I’ll just freeze you. Your mate can thaw you out. No need for death.”

I could see him thinking. After a moment, he shook his head. “Great Hunt is great opportunity. Win and charge highest fees for travel, for hunting. Sleetak need this.”

I didn’t need much more conversation, I could see where this was going. I stepped up quickly, firing my blaster and reaching to knock his aside just as he said, “No!” His shot didn’t do much more than score my armor and numb my arm. Mine took him out. I rummaged through his armor, finally pulling free my prize. The token was mine!

Blaster fire isn’t silent, and I glanced quickly at the ramp up into the ship. There still was no sign of the female Rodian. I felt a twinge of guilt, but I had offered a way out for Sleetak. I left him there, knowing that either his mate or the Togruta would find him. I’d be long on my way.

[sinaedh]

It’s not hard to get off a Hutt-controlled world if you’re in good with the Hutts. Otherwise, you’d have to scurry to find a pilot cocky enough to think he can outsmart and outrun the worms, which isn’t easy. But I was in Bar’du’s favor, and had saved up enough credits to pay for transport. So we found ourselves on an aged, if still sleek transport, headed to the Imperial Fleet space waystation. No one gets to Dromund Kaas directly unless they’re on Imp starships. So a stop at Fleet was necessary, and even beneficial, in the long run.

We were both gawking like outer rim tourists as we stepped onto the main level of the Fleet station. Mouse droids ran underfoot like some infestation as officers strode importantly past. There were armed guards everywhere. Periodically, holoprojectors ran news bulletins from the heart of the Empire as well as the outer rim planets. Amid all the hubbub, assorted mercenaries, traders and service workers plied their trades. “Where to?” she asked, looking up at me.

“Let’s get a table in the cantina. I need to make some contacts, and find transport to Dromund Kaas. You can spend some time running through the ‘net. See if you can find out more about the Mandalorian.”

Her face went still for a moment, then she nodded. “You going to buy me a drink?”

I chuckled. “That and a good meal. Military base might not have too much in cuisine, but this is the top spot. I’m looking forward to a good feed.”

She smiled and walked behind me as I cleared a path through the crowds. I got quite a few dirty looks from Imp officers and some glares that made my skin crawl from the few Sith lords that deigned to mingle with the regulars. To the Imps, I was an animal, a savage, and not worth speaking to as a rule. To the Sith, I was lower than that. I was all right with that. I didn’t really have any need to converse with them. We found an empty table in the cantina probably only because the Imp shifts were changing. I settled her there, then went up to the bar to order drinks and food. I glanced back to her, lifted a thumb to let her know that both would be arriving, then pushed back out into the milling beings. I had a contact to make before we left for Dromund Kaas.

[sinaedh]

She’d been diligent in finding me tech and weapons, decking me out for success in the Great Hunt, but I’d heard of a few experts that were loafing on the decks of the Imp fleet station, so I set out to hunt them down. Imps don’t exactly approve of bounty hunters, but there was a lucrative trade in hunting down paymasters who were skimming without donating sufficient funds to officers, or smugglers who hadn’t paid enough graft when entering a system surreptitiously controlled by Imperial forces. So I made my way down into the underbelly of the station, asking, receiving appraising looks, and finally stepping into a short, dimly lighted hallway. There, at the end, leaning lazily against the wall, were the two I had hoped to find. But they didn’t seem as glad to see me as I was to see them.

“You’re a bit of a bumbler, Rattataki,” said the larger. I knew he was called Grumbler, no known true name, and the deep growl as he complained suited the handle he’d taken. He was human, but one of the biggest I'd ever seen, taller than me, and I'm tall. A scar ran down the right side of his face, cutting into the heavy beard that covered his chin like a part in head hair. “A real hunter wouldn’t have let his prey know he’d got the scent.”

“A real hunter wouldn’t have walked right in with his hands empty,” I retorted. “I’m not hunting. I’m asking. And paying, if…”

I never got to finish that particular sentence. The other man, leaner and quicker, stepped up and swung an iron fist at me. I fell to my knees, but wasn’t going to take that from these two, no matter their reputation. I swung one fist toward the smaller man’s belly, the other reaching to grab an ankle and yank. Surprised, he stumbled back, kicking at me.

I ducked, taking most of the kick on my shoulder rather than my chin. His stumble gave me enough time to stagger to my feet and back off slightly. None of us had reached for blasters yet. I knew this was a test, so did they. I caught my breath for a moment, ducked my head, and charged Grumbler.

Time passed slowly. The only sounds I heard were the rush of blood in my ears, my breath becoming heavier and heavier as we fought, the thud of blows given and received, and the clank of armor as occasional shots missed softer body parts and landed on protection. I got off some good hits on Grumbler, bloodying his nose and sending him to his knees, but had no time to gloat as Bantam, the smaller man, sent a flurry of blows to the back of my head and kicks to the back of my knees, felling me so that I was more on his level. I cracked my head back into his face and staggered up, blood streaming from cuts on my hands and face. As soon as I turned, keeping both men in view again, Bantam screeched, feinted with his left fist, and leapt into the air, right foot cold-cocking me. I went down just like the Togruta I’d stunned on Hutta, but not quite as gracefully.

I slowly came back to consciousness, wincing as muscles and bruises complained. Grumbler and Bantam were sitting on the floor nearby, wiping faces and, in the case of Bantam, treating an arm with a medi-scan. Grumbler nodded when he saw my eyes flutter open. “You did all right, Squirt.” I pushed up from the plates of the floor and sat upright as well. “Strong. Need a bit of training in movement, but Bantam can help you there. And what do you plan to do with your offhand?”

“Punch?” I suggested, shrugging and immediately regretting it as a few back muscles complained.

“Nah. Blaster. Two blasters are always better than one. You’ve got enough quickness, need some practice with the off hand. Give us a little time, and you’ll be set.” He laughed heartily, rose and offered me a hand. After he’d pulled both me and Bantam to our feet, he nodded. “Yeah, you’ll do. And when you win the Hunt, we expect compensation.” He glanced at Bantam, eyebrow raised. After the smaller man nodded, Grumbler grinned. “After. Good bet. Not until then. That’s how we work.”

[sinaedh]

We took an Imperial shuttle to Dromund Kaas. Security was tight, as always, and I received close inspection, since I am what the Imps fondly call a “filthy alien”. I had my chit for entry to the Hunt, and enough credits to buy us reasonable seats, so the Imps couldn’t really stop us, but there was an obvious zone of silence and suspicion that surrounded me. She looked up at me and frowned. “I never realized. Even Hutts aren’t like that.”

“Hutts are only interested in using beings. Any beings. You’re right. They aren’t prejudiced” I chuckled. “And if we pull this off, we’re going to start charging Hutts three or four times what Bar’du offered. And they’ll pay it.”

She shifted in her seat. “I’m just glad to be off Hutta, to be honest. Darden…,” she swallowed, looking down, and I touched her hand, silently offering what comfort I could. She nodded and sighed. “Darden promised we’d get off Hutta, once we found you. And he was right.” Once again I inwardly promised her vengeance for the death of her father figure as she continued. “I did a bit of searching for information about the Hunt while you were training. And a bit of poking around the files on Nar Shaddaa.”

“Nar Shaddaa?” I looked at her, puzzled. “Why there?”

“It’s where Darden found me,” she said. I noted she didn’t call it home. “I was slicing into files of one of the local crime gangs, and something went wrong. I don’t know why they didn’t kill me, but they beat me up pretty bad. Darden found me hiding in an alley, and got me healed and off Nar Shaddaa. But there were files I’d found, files that…,” she shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you know many young girls who have military-level implants?” She gently touched the electronics embedded near her ear and cheek.

“Got to admit I don’t. Implants aren’t that common on my home world. We’re more of a ‘punch your brain out through your skull’ sort of folk.”

That earned me a giggle, which made me smile as well. “Well, I never knew who my parents were. Every time I get a chance, I look to see if I can find them.”

“After all this is done, we’ll find out,” I promised. One more promise to her. This was beginning to become a habit.