"Nothing Personal, Just Business, Part 1"
By Iyika - Bounty Hunter, Assassin, Intelligence Spy

Location: Capital City of Naboo
Date: Eos 15, 4ABY

***

It was the beginning of another night of cold wind blowing from the ocean towards the mainland; the night birds were out flying in the black sky hunting their prey. Unbeknownst to the people living in the capital on Naboo they had an uninvited guest and not the invisible hunter jumping from roof to roof. Her eyes scanned the horizon of buildings all around her pausing briefly when she saw the palace; this planet was still beautiful like a place frozen in time never changing, almost like Iyika herself.

Underneath her invisibility was a two hundred year old who didn't look older than twenty five at the most. She knew she was coming up to three hundred but didn't know exactly when as she'd stopped counting her age at somewhere in the early hundred mark. It was surprising where her work took her, most of the time she was moving from planet to planet most being flea infested garbage dumps which even a Tellian rat wouldn't go near, which was saying a lot, but this was one of the perks of the job. Sitting on a high roof top looking out at a beautiful city stretching out in front of her... Her sources said he was here somewhere in the capital along with three of his goons.

Your typical thug who made the wrong enemies, she thought to herself looking at the full moon above her in the sky. It wasn't strictly true and she knew it. Bu'Los, which was what he was calling himself now, wasn't your average thug. That was one of the reasons he had been chosen to carry out a very simple raid. While on paper it seemed very simple. Everything that could have gone wrong did, including an Imperial Starcruiser turning up. Bu'Los was lucky to get out alive let alone in one piece, but his days of being alive were about to come to an end.

Iyika wasn't hired to terminate this time, she'd just been hired to bring him back to her employers alive so they could teach those who work for them now or in the future that failure was not an option. The Acaran felt slightly sorry for the guy, 'slightly' meaning not much, but the feeling was still there.

"Poor bastard..." she whispered to herself before attaching the wire to the roof top and dropping down the side of the building. She jumped away from the building and her wire harness slowly brought her to a comfortable landing on the street below.

Iyika, I have to warn you the Intel on this matter was not reliable. We don't know if he's armed with a tooth pick or a Mecha with three Destroyer robots keeping him company in the lonely nights...

Iyika shook her head wincing on the inside. Her A.I. which her father had given her as a birthday present had a warped sense of humour. After her long dealing with the A.I. she now wondered if the old man had purposely given him to her for the soul reason to get rid of him. You humanoids have very strange mating habits, from the one on one same sex relationships to mechanical--

She cut him off at that moment not wanting to know how others entertained themselves in the privacy of their home; she had been putting off trying to sort out his sense of humour from replacing it with a new one to down right deleting it. She still as yet did not know where he got all his information and whenever the topic came up he would cut off and not say another word for hours, which was one of the reasons she kept bringing it up.

Silently creeping up to one of the buildings she peered in through the window. She was still cautious though totally invisible. She could still be sensed through the Force, which she found out the hard way, and other sensor nets. Her father had attained some net breakers so she could wander in and out as freely as she liked without setting anything off, but the market for such systems was vast and there was always the chance of an upgraded version her net breakers weren't set for.

But seeing nothing suspicious she moved up to the back door. Of course it was locked. Things in her line of work were never easy. It didn't take long before the door was open and the silent hunter was inside the building. The room she found herself in was your standard kitchen, but the table was all set up with the evening dinner still half eaten. Placing her fingers on the meat, she felt that it was still warm. They hadn't left that long ago, but why had they left?

Oz! she shouted in her mind. Get your synthetic butt in gear; do your sensors pick up anything unusual in my area?

That depends on your definition of unusual doesn't it, but I couldn't tell you even if I wanted to. It appears a security screen just went up engulfing the building you're in and it's a powerful one. I'm having difficulty keeping contact with you. I could say I told you so but that just wouldn't be nice.

Iyika sighed heavily, annoyed at herself for getting into this mess. The assignment seemed straight forward enough and to her that's where the problems started. If this was so straight forward why call her? Her price tag was high for anyone's standards. The information they gave her on this Bu'Los was shaky at best and she wasn't given a lot of time to get any more from her sources, but she wasn't classed as the best for no good reason.

She opened the far door of the kitchen, standing at the side expecting a bombardment of lasers but nothing came. Peering around the corner through the doorway she saw it was empty leading into what appeared to be a normal house, though on the large side even for Naboo. Taking out her blaster from her back she held it in front of her while moving along the hallway. The first door on her right led into a large living room with a table folded away in the corner seemingly never been used. Dust still lay on the table surface around the small ornaments decorating the room. It appeared someone had made a hash job of cleaning up, not even bothering to move the objects from their resting places on the shelves and fire place.

That's when she heard a thud from upstairs; she spun around with her blaster up at the ready, aimed at the stairs behind her. Getting jumpy in your old age, she thought to herself as she climbed the stairs. She heard another thud coming from a room to the right. There were four doors on the landing, and the door directly in front of her was partly open revealing parts of a bathroom. She crept along the landing to the far door passing the bathroom silently.

The door handle slowly lowered and moved forward as the door swung inwards. There was no one inside the room, well no one alive. A single droid was sitting in the middle of the bare room; there were no furnishings of any kind just the single droid.

"Shit..." she whispered turning sharply to the door but it was already too late. The door suddenly slammed shut with what sounded like two large heavy bolts slamming into place. She spun around, firing on the droid in the middle of the room, hitting it square in the chest. The droid exploded from inside out as the laser blast struck its power cell. The explosion sent bits of droid all over the room, some fragments rolling into Iyika's feet. She swapped hands, holding the blaster with her left as she crept along the far wall moving over to the window. But the moment she came close to the window she noticed something very strange: nothing was moving, it was a damn picture!

"Nice of you to drop in, dear lady," said a male voice from an intercom within the room.

That was the last she remembered that day as a red fiery beam flashed, filling the room and knocking her out. A beautiful woman appeared out of nowhere, shimmering into sight before collapsing. She still held the blaster in her left hand, her finger on the trigger. She never saw or felt the hands grabbing hold of her, picking her up off the floor or the voice of Oz screaming into her mind before suddenly falling silent.

"The Art of Licking One's Wounds"
Symm Ruus Dunn - Scout

Location: Outskirts of New Plouton
Date: Eos 15, 4 ABY

***

Symm woke to the ever-present pain of healing wounds and partially broken bones. In moving around a bit, he discovered and remembered the previous day. After his capture and subsequent escape, he had wandered in and out of alleyways and catwalks in an abandoned metalworks facility. He remembered that as he walked, he could see an immense city skyline and so he knew that the chance of his getting back to Thanatos was slim, but do-able.

The ring connecting him to his chair was still there, but the chair wasn't. The fog of his mind and the lack of any pain relief gave him sketchy memories of cutting the ring free from the chair with only minimal burning of his hands. Not that it mattered anyway. If he hadn't freed his hands from the binders soon, his left hand would be lost. It had swollen already and he constantly felt the bones in his wrist grinding together painfully.

Symm looked around for the fusion cutter he had used the previous night and found it, pointing upwards, wedged between two slats of the catwalk. He moved over to the cutter and reached gingerly into the space between slats for the fusion toggle switch. He flipped this to the 'on' position and was rewarded with a searing pain in his right hip. The smell of burning flesh became pungent and Symm nearly passed out with the pain overload. After a few seconds of recovery and screaming as quietly as he could, Symm manoeuvred his binders over the cutter and held them there until he was rewarded with the slow separation of each cuff from the ring. The pain brought him to the brink of consciousness once again as he brought both arms out in front of him. Symm was able to free himself from the binders handily once he could see what he was doing.

Seeing his left wrist, he knew that he needed more medical attention than he could do out in the field. His hand was swollen and colored an angry purple. He could see the little blood clots from where the swollen skin had begun pressing against the binder's edges. He needed a hospital and needed one bad. It wouldn't be the first time he had been immersed in the life-saving bacta tanks, but due to the current situation he was in, it might be his last.

***

The causeway Symm made his way down was littered with garbage and offal piled here and there so cover was not a problem. It was painstaking work, but Symm had been living like this for a year already so it didn't bother him. He had larger worries anyway. He spotted another torn cloak and placed that over the clothing he had grabbed from a previous pile.

"Hey! That's my pile! Get away!"

Symm whirled to the voice and saw an older woman waving a rusty blade in the air. "Get away! Thief!" Symm turned to make his way further down the causeway without a word but he was hit in his right side by a bar or board of some sort which caused him to grunt and go to his knees.

"Please..." He coughed. "I don't want any trouble. Just passing... Oof!" Symm felt another, slightly weaker strike hit his side and this time, his training kicked in. He had seen the movement of the knife as it arced to bite into his face and instinct and training took over his conscious thought. As the board was being withdrawn, Symm trapped it into his side and spun on the attacker. Without noticing it was a teenager, he planted a still solid elbow into the soft spot below the neck, where the human collarbone connects to the breastplate. Without noticing the crumpling of the teen, he continued his spin and brought the board into his right hand and to the temple of the woman in the same motion. She crumpled with a sigh.

Panting, Symm looked down on his two assailants. One was a woman who was probably younger than the fifty that she appeared to be. The other a teenaged boy, scrawny from lack of food, but muscled well in spite of it. Each of them certainly had no military training or strength to stop one who did. They were defending their little corner of the world. It's the innocents that pay, but not by me. Symm dropped the board to the ground, fell to his knees and wept. Not by me.

It took Symm two hours to find places to lay the bodies to rest peacefully. The ground was hard, but they were buried. On them, Symm found several bits and pieces of a few wallets and a credstick that had about 50 creds in it. It was pirated of course, but Symm wasn't picky. He needed something. Also, he pocketed the knife, a heavier coat, and a ballcap he found in the vicinity of the burial site. After it was done, Symm stood in front of the two earth mounds and apologized for his actions. He had long since run out of tears, but he still felt himself welling up. Symm, turned and began walking into the city proper.

***

Symm looked around the corner to the street ahead. There were people now. Not the best of society, but at least this area was inhabited. Symm looked across the street at the front of a grocery store. It was open this late in the day and there was someone behind the counter. Of course, in this neighborhood, there were bars on the windows and it looked as if the clerk was behind a durasteel cage, but, they would have food there. Symm strode into the street, heading for the store. He had acquired a rather shuffling gait, hungry and wounded as he was, and so, he appeared to be another denizen of the street.

The door opened noiselessly except for a rather sick sounding chime and the clerk, a dirty looking man with three teeth, smiled. Symm looked on the shelves and saw nothing. He turned to the clerk and pulled his hood back. The clerk reacted with a start.

"Hey man! Get out of my store, you look diseased, get out!" The man became erratic and was waving his arms frantically as he yelled. The shrillness of his voice increased as Symm resolutely approached the cage. "Look man, get out before I call Mazo. I don't want to hurt ya. Man...come on, get out of here."

Symm reached the counter in front of the now cowering clerk. "Here, I just want somethin' to eat, you got anything for say, 20 creds?" Symm asked with a mental smile. The clerk seemed to calm a little. He threw an energy bar at the slot in his cage and missed. The bar fell back into the cage and the clerk bent forward to pick the bar up, his eyes never off of Symm.

"Here ya go. Free of charge, now get out!" The bar hit Symm in the shoulder and fell to the floor as the clerk backed to the wall once again.

Symm picked up the bar and put it into one of the jacket's pockets as he walked out of the store. He walked back into the alleyway he had been in and quickly gulped down the bar, which was several months old. It was the best meal Symm had ever eaten. Refreshed, Symm climbed up onto the fire escape and made his way to roof. There, he curled up and slipped into a deep sleep.

"Sightseeing"
by Jack Black
Robin Black [NPC+]

Location: New Plouton
Date: Eos 15, 4 ABY

***

Jack walked through the streets just behind his brother. The streets were quiet for this time of day. The heat of the day was strong and most people had kept inside to avoid its harsh rays. Through the screen of the oxygen mask Jack looked at the world around him. There were thousands of different races, each with an ability of its own to survive. Several of the more advanced races were a marvel to bio evolution.

Jack stopped by a small shop and peered in the window. Robin stood beside him. Inside the window on a small dais was an old briar pistol. It was deactivated but Jack put his hand forward towards the glass as if to caress the weapon. It was similar to his staff's weapon albeit the range. No one used that sort of pistol any more; it was far out-dated and while exceptionally accurate, not very practical.

Several other trinkets littered the window. Jack stepped inside the shop and immediately the cool air washed over him. He pulled his oxygen mask off so he could feel the fresh non- stifling cycled air. He admired the shopkeeper's collection. There was little if any use. Most of the stuff was from technology long forgotten or out of date. An old TX12 Battle droid rested in the corner; Jack was surprised to see one. After the Clone wars all of them were supposed to have been destroyed. He walked over to it, and admired the raw strength of such a machine. A small blast had struck this one on the right shoulder, severing several servos. He turned to the shopkeeper; he was a fairly strongly built humanoid with a bright blue stripe running across his head.

"I thought they destroyed all of these and made it illegal to own or collect?" Jack queried.

"You can still collect them as long as they're nonfunctional, like my wife." He chuckled.

Robin joined in the laughing, however Jack's face remained impassable. "I would like to purchase this machine off of you."

"Can't do that got to be registered to own it." The Shopkeeper shrugged. "Sorry mate."

Jack undid his coat slightly and withdrew a large bag of credits. "I'll make it worth your while. This technology fascinates me. I have no desire to reactivate the beast. Who knows what it was programmed to do."

"Err..." The man eyed the bag of coins. Greed was a very powerful persuader

"Come on what harm can it do?" Jack's voice coaxed.

Robin looked at the transaction of coins, and then at Jack's impassable black eyes.

"Thank you," Jack said as the shopkeeper lifted the bag up. Jack withdrew his hand and turned to his brother. "Run home and get the anti-gravity plate. We've acquired a little--" He eyed the broken droid. "--baggage."

Robin dutifully nodded and marched away.

"Pleasure doing business with you," Jack sneered at the shopkeeper.

"Grim Tidings"
by Moff Albren Seare [NPC+]
and Captain Degray Spen [NPC+]
with the Marauders

Location: Thanatos, Tae'Karada
Date: Eos 15, 4ABY

***

"Are you certain of that, Captain?" Moff Seare asked. His face was a mask of neutrality, though on the inside he was seething.

"Quite certain, sir," Spen answered in his heavily accented basic. "Corporal Tao saw them when they nabbed him, right out from under our nose."

"Alpha Five?"

"The very same. One of Tarkin's personal detachments. They don't have the training of the Marauders, though they have the Emperor's Own Luck."

"First bounty hunters, and now this!"

"Sir?"

"Nothing, Captain," Seare answered. "I want you to continue your search for this terrorist, track him all the way to Arcadia if you have to."

"Aye, sir," Spen answered. "We'll track him and bring him to you personally. I can't help noticing that there might be some friction between yourself and the Admiral, sir."

"The friction is caused because the Admiral does not trust those he places into positions of power. Twice now he has sent people into the territory he assigned to me. He had not communicated his incursions to me, instead choosing to just send his people in to do their assigned tasks."

Spen frowned. "Not a great way to run an Empire, I agree, but he is the Grand Admiral."

Seare smiled humourlessly. "A rank and position he holds only because he happened to have been placed in an advantageous place. I shouldn't be telling you this."

"I assure you, Moff Seare, I am loyal to you and the Empire, as are the Marauders. We will bring back this terrorist."

"Has there been any word on the attack at the spaceport? Or elsewhere in the city?"

Spen shook his head. "Nothing, sir," he said. "The troops are looking, but I have not had a chance to look into it. If you want, I can put Tao and Espa on that."

"Do so as long as it doesn't reduce the effectiveness of the Marauders. At the moment, getting that Rebel terrorist back is your highest priority."

"Understood, sir. I don't think the gangs will be providing much more trouble. They've launched two attacks so far, and Intelligence reports another is in the works. I'd expect it...tomorrow. It shouldn't be long before the will of this settlement caves in on itself, and they surrender to you."

Seare nodded. "Before that can happen, we need those who oppose us brought to heel."

"Aye, sir."

Seare turned to face the window looking out across the sands. "Any other word about the traitor and his simple brother?"

"Lieutenant Cantor searched for him again yesterday, but there's no sign. Projections are that they perished in the sand or headed toward another desert settlement, or possibly New Plouton. All checkpoints are watching out for them; their information is also being routed through New Plouton and the spaceport. It's only a matter of time, sir."

Moff Seare nodded once more. Time, that's what it all seemed to be about. "Very well, Captain."

Captain Degray Spen gave Seare what turned out to be a cross between a bow and a salute. "We'll bring him in, sir."

"See that you do, Captain. See that you do."

"The Council Convenes"
by Jedi Master Koran Darr
Jedi Master Quinlan Vos
and Jedi Master Kal'Aran

Location: Jedi Temple, Council Chambers
Date: Eos 15, 4ABY

***

Koran Darr had called a meeting of the Jedi Council. They had all gathered in the same room in which he had spoken to Nieme the other day. Today, the meeting was about Nieme and Dani again, and about their disappearance from the Temple.

He looked around at those assembled and nodded. "I don't know how many of you are aware or not, but Dani and Nieme have left the Temple. I believe their disappearance was deliberate. As you may also know, they have been in a fair amount of trouble recently due to their activities. I spoke with them about their wanton behaviour, but they didn't seem all too happy to cease their activities. I believe as a result of that, they have left. You all know of the troubles we have had in the past with the girls. You all have been around them enough to know their moods and personalities. My question to the Council is this: now that they have left, what shall we do about them?"

Quinlan sighed. "Ahh... Problems with the authority of the Council. I remember those in my Padawan days," he said. "But they must be tamed. They lead anyone astray..." he said. "It is important that they return to the Temple."

Kal'Aran nodded. "Sincerely, I do not think that Dani wanted to leave... Perhaps not even Nieme, but they did. Perhaps for the reasons we suspect, and maybe for other reasons as well. Still, I see Dani as the strong link to the Temple. Perhaps we can talk once we find them and convince them to return?"

"If they quit now, allies to the Force we lose..." Vos added. "Grey or Rogue Jedi they might become, or even worse! Do we have any idea where they ran off to?"

Koran chuckled. "I never got used to Master Yoda's inverted style of speech, Quinlan," he said with a grin. "If you've been reading Master Yoda's journals again, I can see where that might affect your grammar, my friend. To the matter of Dani and Nieme, I do know if it is wise to force them to become Jedi if that is not what they desire for themselves. However, we must speak with them. I have a couple ideas where they might have gone, but I am uncertain as of yet. I will look for them and speak to them, however I will defer to the will of the Council. Should I bring them back, or only hear them out?"

"You seem to forget Koran, that no one was ever forced to become a Jedi... It would be against our principles of freedom of choice," Kal'Aran said.

Vos nodded. "I concur... We have no right to force them to come back, but my hopes are that they can be reasoned with."

"I did not intend to force them into returning," Koran said. "Especially if that is not what the Council wished. I will try to find them and talk with them. If nothing else, we will at least know why they have chosen to leave."

Kal'Aran sighed. "My hopes are that they will return still... However, we have other matters to discuss. We have a guest here, recovering," he said.

"You speak of this Chani girl," Vos said.

Kal'Aran nodded. "She has lost her memory and does not remember her past life. I have run a few tests that confirm this..."

"Her true story?" Vos asked.

"Once a Jedi Padawan, long before our days, she was considered quite skilled. However she was distant and troublesome. Caught and taken captive she was thought dead. She had, however, chosen to leave the Order and saw the Jedi as menacing and corrupt. Her goal from then on has been to vanquish Jedi and Sith alike..." the older Jedi Master explained. "She is, of course, Force sensitive and should have pretty good training even though she doesn't remember it. The question is, do we train her and grant her a second chance?"

"What risks do we run if we train her?" Koran asked. "She's known as the Huntress, and if she reverts to what she was before while here in the Temple..."

"My thoughts exactly!" Kal'Aran nodded. "But I also see this as an opportunity to gain an ally. If we can keep her stable, she may yet come to learn peace and even if she does remember her past she may choose to join us still and try to make things right."

"A most optimistic probability..." Vos frowned. "But not the only one, my friend. I too would like this a lot better than the other chances, but we must not let them aside. What if she decides to go rampant on us?" he asked.

Koran glanced around at the group. "Who will train her? What are the chances that a woman who has known only darkness since she left the Jedi will return to the light? Normally, I am an optimistic person, but in this case... Liam Zaneth walked the path of darkness, but returned to the light. He chose to return to the light, however, rather than being forced back to it. I do not like the idea of fooling this woman, taking advantage of her condition to bring her to a place she normally would not choose. The deceit in that action feels...wrong."

"And so you believe that people do not deserve one second chance to do things righteously?" Vos asked with a raised eyebrow. "Because she failed once she is marked to walk that path forever? Perhaps this is her opportunity to turn her life around, just as Liam had his, and even I did..."

Kal'Aran sighed. "I agree with both of you. No one should be forced in our ways, but what if she chooses to become one of us? If we show her the ways of the Jedi perhaps she will tame her anger..."

"Someone tried to teach those same beliefs to her before," Koran said. "Do we tell her of her dark past? Or do we hide that from her? If we do not tell her of the path she has walked, then we are venturing too close to darkness by withholding that information from her. I do not feel, even if it means that we lose her to darkness once more, that we should hide who she has been from her. To keep that from her could do more harm in the end, to all of us."

"No, never to hide her past from her!" Kal'Aran stated. "She would learn of her own doings, and then she will either remember or condemn her own actions and try to make amends..."

"And who would take on her training? Tell her what she was like and try to help her walk out on her own darkness?" Vos asked.

Koran nodded. "Who is willing to take on this woman as their Padawan?"

Kal'Aran sighed. "Neither of you seem willing to do so... Quite frankly I was hoping that perhaps you, Quinlan, would accept this, since of us three you have no Padawan..."

Quinlan raised his eyebrows and chuckled. "I thought Koran would since he's so keen on taking Padawans!" he said with a smile. "But it does seem logical that I take this task at hand..."

Kal'Aran nodded. "So you accept?" he asked Quinlan Vos, only to see him nod in approval. "Koran?" he asked, to check for his approval also.

"That sounds acceptable," Koran said with a nod. "Though, we will need to watch her carefully, especially once she finds out about her past."

"Caution will be always taken under consideration, of course..." Kal'Aran agreed. "It is settled then. As soon as you choose, Quinlan, you may address her."

Master Vos nodded. "Very well. Anything else that might need insight?" he asked the others.

Koran shook his head. "I have nothing further at the current time," he said.

Quinlan folded his hands together as he glanced at Master Kal'Aran, who nodded. "Well then, I believe this concludes our meeting..." he said as he got up.