Chapter One: Bounty Hunter

My target walked into an alley. Foolish. It only took a few moments for me to drop down, my legs being toned and my natural physique allowing for deft, almost animalistic movements. Or at least, that's what everyone used to tell me.

"A bit breezy this evening, isn't it?" I asked, leaning against the wall as the Palliduvan male walked by. At first, he merely grunted at me in irritated acknowledgement, his long, chalky white skin stark against the dark cloak he'd pulled up to cover his face.

After a beat, he recognized my face. Or rather, the short cropped hair that fell over my mechanized goggles, my half face mask gray and glowing with the blue filters I'd installed in them. The Mandalorian steel, dark and bearing the faded mark of the kyr'bes on my left shoulder guard, was recognizable too. Only a few bounty hunters bore that mark. And one was already dead.

His red eyes widened on his pasty face, his lanky form immediately bolting down the alleyway. I'd always enjoyed the chase, and this job was the only one I had to do that day. It was personal, after all. One didn't become one of the most renowned club owners on Coruscant and a bounty hunter with a dazzling reputation by letting a di'kut who cornered one of my dancers after work just get away. My girls were protected. That's why they liked working for me.

So a lesson had to be learned.

I took off after the Palliduvan, my well worn boots and suit moving with me perfectly. I'd run various missions in the gear, all since I'd first been gifted the Mandalorian steel from Jango. My heart panged for a moment, but I pushed it down. Focus now.

My own memories had blinded me for a moment, the Palliduvan now lost in the growing crowds of Coruscanti nightlife. Kriff.

A few taps to my wrist computer brought my HUD to life, Apex speaking in my ear in his automated tone.

"What can I do for you?" the AI's voice asked politely.

"I need a bioscan for a Palliduvan. Now."

Immediately, my HUD shifted, my eyes watching the little circles that would focus on bodies while I passed, before dissipating with a negative beep in my earpiece. Of course, despite carrying out the request, Apex remained, his automated voice taking on some snark.

"Looking for Aurra Sing again, miss?" He paused. "Is that wise? She gave you a nice scar on your last encounter."

I scowled, my HUD dinging as it picked up the Palliduvan biology, his lanky shape ducking into another alleyway. I made my way through the crowd, brushing by a band of Bothans as I muttered to the AI. "Remind me to dial back your independent personality configuration by about twelve percent."

The AI hummed in my ear. "I may forget to put that one on the to-do list, miss."

"You're a useless assistant," I teased, both of us fully knowing I wouldn't dial back anything. Maybe he was crass, but it was nice to have a friend. Even if he just lived in a computer. "Hush now."

I hurried down the alleyway, seeing the evidence of an open shaft in the metal walling of the Coruscant underground. I ducked my head in, seeing the long-limbed man scaling the inside. His stark face practically glowed in the darkness, his white hands being the only sign that he was dropping something at me. I lunged back out of the shaft quickly, hearing the knife clang past in the metal shaft.

"Bastard," I hissed, calling back Apex with a few taps to my wrist computer. As Apex returned to my HUD with a small strike of a wavelength in the upper left corner, I stepped back from the shaft and pulled out a special grenade from my pouch. "Where's the next grate for that shaft?" I asked the AI as I pressed the activation mechanism and carefully wedged it into pipes by the opening. I moved back, watching the grenade erupt with a foam-like substance that expanded quickly to fill the shaft, hardening and sealing the exit.

"There are various let out points," Apex explained, bringing up a schematic on my HUD, showing the shaft leading all the way to the surface. "Highlighting likely exit points now," Apex spoke, certain parts of the schematic highlighting and expanding to show the surrounding areas. As I examined what he showed me, I stepped into an elevator, ignoring the Twi'lek family beside me. The parents of the young boy watched me warily, eyeing the high-powered pistols on my thighs and the knives tucked into my boots.

"That exit point won't be used," I spoke aloud, still ignoring the family. "There's a Coruscanti patrol that frequents that area. If he's trying to avoid causing a commotion, he'll try to hide in plain sight, rather than run."

"There is a branch of the shaft that enters here." I followed Apex's schematics, showing the shaft opening into the floor of a bar on Coruscant's surface.

"79's?" I asked, chuckling. "Why would he try to blend into a clone bar?"

"Perhaps he knows more of your past than you'd like. He's trying to throw you off."

I hummed, my heart thumping. Even though clones would sometimes show up to my own club, I wouldn't go out of my way to interact with them. They were customers, nothing more. And they didn't know about the Mandalorian armor that sat in my office on the floor above where they partied.

"I agree," I muttered, wondering if this Palliduvan had ever interacted with Aurra Sing. She knew more than I'd like, too. And it made our...relationship...rather tense. "Monitor other exit points with security footage. I'll head to 79's."

"Yes, miss."

I stepped from the elevator, giving a small nod to the family, before hurrying towards the clone bar. The bar was simple to enter, my eyes kept lower than faces so as not to see Jango everywhere. Instead, I looked for the lanky physique of the Palliduvan.

There you are.

I pulled my pistol, aiming it at the man steadily. He saw me immediately as the custom made pistol charged to life, its mechanisms whirring with blue light. His bony fingers raised slowly.

The bumble of the bar died immediately when we were noticed, the clones' gazes settling on me. I wondered briefly if they knew me or if their looks were just because of the Mandalorian steel and symbol on my shoulder. I ignored them.

"Trying to hide in a clone bar, huh?" I said slowly, my voice slightly warbled by the mechanisms of my mask. I gestured with my free hand. "You sort of stand out, if you hadn't noticed."

The man scowled at me, the stark lines of his white face deepening. "Aurra told me you were a bitch, but I wasn't sure if she was just exaggerating."

I smirked, cocking my head, but my aim not wavering. "Probably because she's mad that I have a better record than her." He looked like he wanted to respond, likely be calling me a bitch again, but I didn't let him. "But affiliation with Aurra Sing?" I continued. "You know she's wanted by the Republic, right? Affiliation with her is means for arrest."

"You've worked with her," he spit, his hands still held up, the clones watching carefully.

"Not by choice," I snorted. "But either way, I don't have a bounty on my head from the Republic." I paused for a moment, thinking. "But maybe to avoid confusion, I'll just use you to find Aurra."

I stepped forward slowly, my pistol unwavering. The man growled at me, "I won't say anything."

I tapped behind my ear, my mask receding to leave me in just my goggles. I smirked. "You forget who I am." I leaned closer with a smile. "I get what I want."

Fear flashed across his pale face, his eyes flashing to my side.

"Hey, no weapons in here," a clone finally said, recovering from the sight of the kyr'bes symbol of my shoulder. My eyes flashed to the side to eye him-foolishly.

I was struck with the sight of Jango, my heart leaping for a moment and my stomach dropping. It was enough of a pause for the Palliduvan to throw another knife. His aim was good, I had to give him that. If he knew Aurra, he knew I wore Mandalorian armor and needed to go for the weak joints. The knife embedded in the small part between the chest plate and shoulder guard, pulling my torso sideways in pain. I automatically squeezed the trigger, but my shot missed as my torso torqued sideways.

My target ducked my fire, hurdling a few tables as he bolted through the bar. I crouched for a moment in pain, wrenching the knife from my shoulder with clenched teeth.

"Kriffing bastard," I hissed through my grimace, tucking the blade into my belt and rising quickly. The clones had leapt into action, some drunkenly attempting to stop the Palliduvan. "Stand back!" I yelled, tapping behind my ear to put my mask back into place. The clones, interestingly, obeyed. Of course, I'd heard about their obedience training. They were boys, really, forced to be men too early.

I shook back the pang of sorrow and fired my pistol through the crowd, catching my target in the back of his thigh. He fell heavily, but found his feet shakily again and hobbled from the bar. I moved to follow, but suddenly felt a weight on my back, knocking me sideways. My pistol was wrestled from my grasp, strong arms wrapping around my chest.

I tried to ignore the familiar feeling, but it was so strange. Jango had felt so similar when we would spar, his arms similar physique, the heat of his chest the same. I angrily threw my head back, pushing Jango from my mind and connecting with a nose instead.

I whirled and went to follow up with a punch, but paused. The face of Jango was clutching his nose, the only difference being the man's lack of hair and a tattoo of the Republic symbol across his skull and face.

It's not him. They had no loyalty to him.

I punched him hard, the man falling backwards into another clone who had Mando'a symbols sculpted into his haircut. Another hand grabbed my upper arm, a fist coming across my own cheek. But I'd taken hits from Jango himself.

My head whipped to the side, but I retaliated quickly, throwing an elbow across the blond clone's face. He was strong, his deep scowl and deep brown eyes-almost golden-reminding me of Jango again.

But then his arms wrapped around my neck, making me jerk my legs up and roll my body. His form, not expecting the sudden movement, pitched forward with me, allowing me to roll him over my shoulder and down to the ground. I gripped his arm and almost wrenched it sideways to dislocate the shoulder, but I hesitated.

I felt something within him. A fire, but a calm. Sorrow. Pain. Anger. But also determination. Loyalty. Kindness.

I let go of him and raced from the bar, my own shoulder burning.

It didn't take me long to catch up to the wounded Palliduvan, his leg bleeding heavily. "Would you stop running?" I snarked, the weariness of the long week finally settling into my muscles. Not to mention I'd now have to patch my shoulder up.

I rolled my eyes as he floundered, falling to the ground in his panic and scooting away.

"How cliche." I followed, stepping on his injured leg, making him cry out in pain. "All out of knives, are we?" Immediately, he went to pull one but I drew my pistol instead, giving him a look. "Don't even think about it."

"Please," he whimpered, cowering with his hands raised.

I clicked my tongue. "Don't beg, it's unbecoming." I looked him up and down quickly, seeing the fear in his red eyes, sweat beading on his skin, and blood staining his pants. I leaned down, putting more pressure on his wound. "I think we've learned a lesson here, right?" He nodded vigorously. "Don't touch one of my girls. Ever. Do you understand?" He nodded again. I pressed harder. "I can't hear you."

"Yes! Yes, I understand!"

I stepped off him immediately. "Good." I pivoted, leaving him in the alleyway.

"That-That's it?" his voice called, making me chuckle. I stopped at the entrance to the alley, looking back at him.

"I'm not Aurra. No need for overkill." With a smirk at my own clever jab at the bounty hunter I hated, I turned to leave, only to run headfirst into hard blue armor.

I should've sensed that. Focus, dammit.

I swallowed thickly, looking at the Coruscant guard. I could fight them off. I'd caused issues with them before… But looking behind them, I watched clones clad in their painted armor approaching, my lips pressing into a line.

I'd already punched the soldiers of the Republic that night. I could maybe talk my way out of that. But taking out a whole squadron and the police? I could do it, but it probably wasn't wise.

Jango's voice echoed in my head, urging me not to stand down. But then again, Jango didn't make very good decisions in the last few years of his life.

I lifted my hands from my pistols slowly, holding them in the air. "Hey now," I called loud enough for everyone to hear. "I didn't do anything illegal."

A clone in red-painted armor stepped forward, sporting a gray pauldron. Commander Fox. "Carrying an unregistered weapon into a firearm free zone, firing said weapon in a civilian space, wounding a civilian, and assaulting two soldiers of the Republic."

I paused. "Okay, I did those things but you're seeing them completely out of context." My words were hindered as the clones came forward and confiscated my weapons, binding my wrists quickly. They removed my mask and goggles, taking away my comms, too. "Please be careful with those," I said, partially teasing and partially earnest. "They're custom made."

Fox's visor turned to me slowly before looking away without a word. I'd seen him a few times, but never spoken with him. Most of the lower levels didn't like him much. He was a hard ass and a stickler for the law...something most of my friends didn't really abide by.

In a weird way, he reminded me of Jango when I first met him. I wondered if underneath all that gruff exterior, Fox was as sweet and loving as Jango could be.

A shove to my back got me moving, the injured Palliduvan casting me a dark scowl. "Now you'll get what's coming to you," he threatened, gesturing to the clones.

"They're taking us both, you moron," I spit over my shoulder. "Besides, I have a reason for what I did. You're reason for breaking the law was that you're just a chakaar!"

The clones seemed to tense and hesitate at my use of Mando'a, but it didn't do much to stop them from tossing me into a shuttle bound for the holding cells.

"Wonderful," I muttered to myself, casting a side eye to the Palliduvan. It looked like I wouldn't be getting back to my club for a drink that night.