Chapter 1

It was just another day for Gahmah Raan. One that would yield little if any progress in his journey to get his people away from Krishar's influentially poisonous false god, Xixixix.

If there were any pet peeves Gahmah had about his choice to become a bounty hunter, it was that he had to be away from his wife Nazeen to even be able to look up job postings. Krishar was so deep under the New Republic's radar that almost no one but his own people knew it existed, and as such, the planet had no Holonet access.

Today, he and the Vriknash – his starship and mobile home – were stationed in the upper levels of Nar Shaddaa and were prepared to jump system again provided that his next job wouldn't be right in Hutt Space. The green scaly-skinned man with a helmet was an interesting sight to many beings, but most chose not to say anything about it since the galaxy was still discovering new sentient species.

After a mundane breakfast meal of fried nuna eggs and roba sausage at a diner – one of the very few times a day he took off his face-obscuring helmet, he headed for the Naughty Nexu Cantina to see if there were any new jobs that were both well-paying and clean, the latter of which was difficult to come by in Hutt-controlled territory.


The Naught Nexu's bounty office had just as much room space as the diner Gahmah was in earlier and was just as unsanitary. The head of the office, a Volpai named Roteka - with Sheesëdau brand temporary tattoos on each of his four arms and his scalp - had a bored look on his face that turned only slightly surprised as soon as Gahmah came in through the doorway.

"Hello, boys, girls and hermies! Gahmah Raan is back for another hunt!" Gahmah bombastically shouted just after stepping in.

A lot of the other hunters in the office, especially some regulars who've only known Raan for a short while, were thrown off by his cheerful demeanor, some thinking he was a spice addict and wouldn't last long in his job. The few who've worked with him out in the field knew better. In actuality, Gahmah had been bounty hunting since he officially became an adult by Krishari standards – age seventeen specifically - four years ago, and most people didn't know about him because few were willing to hire him. And this illusion of naivety was really just a trap to get potential rivals to underestimate him.

Roteka sighed as Gahmah walked up to his booth and spread both of his gloved hands on it. "What will it be today, Raan?"

"I don't know yet. You're the one with the list. You give me some options, I'll make the call."

"First, some guy has been skipping out on his debt to Krakat the Hutt…"

"Next!" Gahmah abruptly shouted before Roteka could finish.

As soon as he heard the words "debt" and "Hutt", this was an automatic skip for him. As far as Gahmah was concerned, that was just glorified leg-breaking, not bounty hunting.

"Okay then." Roteka continued. "The Pyke Syndicate wants a rival in the Rang Clan…"

"Next!" This one was just another petty feud between crime families, one of which was a drug cartel.

"Seriously, Raan. If you would just stop being so picky about the jobs we have, you could have retired and lived the good life or achieved whatever that financial goal of yours was a long time ago."

"Just keep going, Roteka. I'll let you know when I hear something I can agree with."

"Fine. I'll try to find something that is compatible with your conscience." Roteka did a bit of browsing until he found something interesting. "Ah! How about this one?"

"I'm listening."

"Someone named Zakob wants someone captured or killed: a Trandoshan terrorist named Dillosk. And he's offering two-hundred thousand credits for his capture."

"Anything else about this Dillosk character?"

"He's the leader of an anarchist cult called Nature's Omen. They've destroyed a lot of property and killed a lot of innocent people to make a statement against Zakob. And they are currently stationed on Gorse."

"What about Zakob?"

"He's posted a few bounties through the Holonet before, so far only against people as dangerous as Dillosk, but all we know about him are his name, gender and that he operates on Naboo. Very few have been willing to take his bounties, some of those few being big name hunters like Boba Fett."

"So, we have a mysterious contractor who seems to attract the best or the boldest in the industry…alright. I'll take it!" Gahmah affirmed.

"Looks like we're rival-partners now." A deep raspy voice came out of the crowd.

Out of the many patrons slithered a blue-scaled four-armed creature with a snake-like lower body and a large lipless mouth with many sharp teeth – the ones on his upper jaw bigger than those on the lower jaw, an appearance that slightly unnerved everyone except for Gahmah. His weapons included four baton-shaped pistols with rounded-out tips, four sheathed swords and what looked like some kind of liquid-form bombs in vials. Almost every piece of his gear seemed to suggest he was trying to avoid right angles wherever it was possible and practical.

"Sweet!" Gahmah proclaimed to the creature. "I've always wanted to have a pet war worm, but Nazeen and Violo wouldn't let me have one."

"I am no one's pet, lizard." The creature responded before hissing his snake-like tongue out. "But I could always make you one of mine."

"When you do that thing with your tongue, it makes it look like you want to eat me. Do you want to eat me? Because I warn you, I have proven to be very inedible."

"Since when?"

"Since some time in the future in the past."

The snake-worm-like bounty hunter was confused by his statement.

Roteka, not phased in the slightest by Gahmah's eccentricity, informed the strange hunter. "This is Gahmah Raan we're talking about. If you value your sanity, do not try to understand what he says. I heard a rumor he once got a Dark Jedi turned into a gibbering vegetable from having his mind read too deeply."

"Very well." The creature turned his attention back to Gahmah. "I believe I should introduce myself more formally. I am Liamag, and I am what is known as a Lindorm."

"Never heard of your species."

"None of us know what you are either."

Roteka explained to Gahmah. "We don't know what planet they come from, but I hear they've created several settlements all over the galaxy. Apparently, Liamag likes to operate independently of his pack."

Gahmah continued probing Liamag. "How did you even hear me in all this noise? You don't even have ears!"

"I admit, our hearing is not as good as yours, but we have better eyesight and smelling than humans. As for how I heard you, you are loud enough to get a deaf man's attention."

"Uh huh." Gahmah nodded with embarrassment. "And why are you so interested in taking this particular job with me?"

"I had already signed up for it before you got here, but there are no restrictions to the number of hunters needed to hunt down Dillosk, and Zakob is willing to get as many as necessary to take him down. Besides, I'd welcome a challenge for who gets to kill him first."

"You know he's worth more alive, right?"

"Since he's a violent terrorist and a Trandoshan, it's unlikely he'll want to go peacefully if it means staying in the Scorekeeper's favor."

"Scorekeeper?" Gahmah asked Roteka with puzzlement.

"According to some of the other Trandos who've come here, the Scorekeeper is their hunting goddess. The more kills they make, the more favorable they get with the Scorekeeper in the Trando afterlife. If they suffer a humiliation such as capture or getting skinned, their points get revoked and they go to Trando hell if they don't reclaim them before they die."

"Lovely, another race that tries to justify bloodshed with religious pretenses. They've certainly gotten on the galaxy's good side."

Suddenly, Gahmah, Liamag and Roteka heard a Trandoshan patron snarling in the crowd.

"I really think you and Liamag should get going." Roteka nervously remarked before pointing them towards the doorway. "Remember, Gorse. Good hunting, you two."

Gahmah and Liamag hurried out of the cantina before someone decided to skin the former alive… again.


After getting a good distance away from the Naughty Nexu, Liamag scolded Gahmah.

"What were you thinking?! Are you trying to get us killed before we get to Gorse?!"

"What are you so worried about? I accidentally insult people all the time." Gahmah answered.

"I'm worried about what will happen to me for associating with you. Unlike you, I actually have a sense of self-preservation!"

"Of course I have a sense of self-preservation. I just don't need to worry about it as much."

Liamag sighed. "Besides, not every Trandoshan is a sanctimonious serial killer or terrorist, and there are a lot of Trandoshans living here on Nar Shaddaa."

"That's a fair point. What I said was kind of speciest." Gahmah then changed the subject. "Anyway, do you need a ride to Gorse? Since we're both on the same case, I've got transportation if you need it."

"No thanks, I have my own ship. Besides, the ships you bipeds fly have too many right angles for my taste."

"Then why are you here? Right angles are almost everywhere."

"I have come to tolerate them a little better than other Lindorm since they are a reality I have to deal with. If I can't control the appearance of the places I travel or the people I meet, I can at least control the appearance of my personal assets and my living space."

Suddenly, they were interrupted by another guttural voice coming from the direction they just came. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

Gahmah and Liamag turned around to see a mildly pudgy, red-scaled Trandoshan male in a purple jumpsuit armed with a blaster rifle.

"And you're supposed to be…?" Gahmah asked.

"The guy you were told to run away from when you insulted me." The Trandoshan answered. "I would have killed you in the bar if I was allowed to, but here on the streets, there are no laws to stop me from taxiderming you."

"Can you at least give me your name first?"

"Vorcec."

"Well, Vorcec, people insult other people all the time, and they don't always die for it." Gahmah drew one of his blaster pistols and addressed Liamag. "Aren't you going to help out?"

"Sorry, Raan. You got yourself into this mess. It's up to you to get out of it." Liamag answered with his arms crossed.

Vorcec directed his attention to the Lindorm. "You're not going anywhere either, worm."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm actually one of Dillosk's scouts. I'm under orders to eliminate any bounty hunters who agree to eliminate him. The lizard just gave me another pretense for killing him."

"You're one to talk!" Gahmah protested before removing his helmet to show his somewhat human-like face. "Does this look like a lizard to you?!"

"Thank you for being an idiot." Vorcec then fired his blaster rifle at Gahmah's left eye, burning it away and searing the left half of his face, causing him to drop his helmet on the ground.

Instead of screaming in agony over such an injury, Gahmah calmly replied with a slight speech impediment due to lip-scarring. "That hurt a little. And are you really sure you should be telling us that you work for the guy we're hunting?" Gahmah then casually tore the scarred flesh from his face - revealing his skull underneath – and pulled out the damaged eye.

Vorcec and Liamag were a little disturbed that Gahmah wasn't phased by having half his face burned off and being half-blind, and that he was willing to rip off his own face.

Vorcec lashed out in anger. "Dead people don't say anything!" The Trandoshan hastily threw his rifle aside and then charged at Gahmah while soaking up a few shots from Gahmah's blaster pistol, grabbed at the Krishari's arms and violently tore both of them off.

"Ow!" Gahmah yelled in a slightly more agonized tone. "Okay, you're making progress. Buuuut…" Gahmah swiftly kneed Vorcec in his pelvis before kicking him in the stomach and then his snout, knocking out most of his teeth.

Vorcec snarled one more time. "Okay, you can still fight. But I'm the one who can regenerate!"

"Oh, you mean like this?" Gahmah sprouted back both of his arms as well as the left half of his face and his eye within ten seconds. "Well, grow your teeth back! I'm waiting."

Vorcec whimpered with embarrassment. Trandoshans took a lot longer than whatever Gahmah was to regenerate lost tissue and bones. Not to mention that Trandoshans stop regenerating when they are middle-aged.

Hoping to preserve his pride, Vorcec tried to tear Gahmah apart one more time just as Liamag drew one of his baton pistols and fired a crystal shard into Vorcec's back.

Vorcec turned towards Liamag. "Was that a prick I just felt? You'll need better weapons than those peashooters to bring me-!"

Suddenly, Vorcec fell down on his knees in pain, and felt some fast-acting poison crawling through his bloodstream. With the Trandoshan incapacitated, Gahmah drew his other blaster pistol and fired a shot into his head.

"You said I was on my own for this one." Gahmah informed Liamag.

"Well, aside from the fact he was going to kill both of us, you've also earned a bit of my respect." Liamag answered. "I can see how you've survived for so long despite being a trouble magnet and making yourself look like an idiot."

"Thanks." Gahmah reequipped his helmet and claimed the rest of his gear from his severed arms. "Anyway, I get the feeling Dillosk's going to see us coming when he realizes one of his goons isn't calling back and have Nature's Omen ready to deal with us when we get to Gorse. Let's both get an idea of what our ships look like so we don't blow each other up if these terrorists have a fleet waiting."


First, Gahmah brought Liamag to the hangar where the Vriknash was docked. To Liamag, this ship was strange even by the standards of ships flown by most humanoids, as it was landed on its backside.

"Say hello to my home away from home, the Vriknash." Gahmah introduced his ship.

"I'm…not going to pretend to understand what that word means." Liamag commented.

The Vriknash's loading ramp opened up, revealing a tan-skinned human male in pink Mandalorian armor with black hair pulled back into a short ponytail. "For kriff's sake, Gahmah!" The man yelled at Gahmah in an annoyed Concord Dawn accent. "You, Nazeen and I have been over this! You are not allowed to have a pet war worm unless you're willing to clean up after it!"

"I know, Vio! This is not a war worm. This is Liamag, my partner for today's contract… or one of my partners since I expect you to be helping out on this job too." Gahmah looked back to the Lindorm. "Liam, this is Violo Jod, my first mate on the Vriknash and my soon-to-be second mate in my family."

Liamag was a little baffled. "Second…mate? And 'Liam'?"

Violo responded to Liamag. "Gahmah's people are polygamists. His first wife is back on his homeworld. Anyway, nice to meet you, Liamag." The Mandalorian then shook one of the Lindorm's four hands. "And sorry if I insulted you by calling you a war worm. My betrothed has a habit of bringing back animals dressed in clothing under the claim of them being sentient. As you may have noticed, Gahmah's…weird."

"I noticed. Nice to have your acquaintance, Jod."

Gahmah directed his attention back to Violo. "Anyway, Vio. I'll be back after I go see Liam's ship… can't wait to see what it looks like. And I picked up some breakfast to go while I was out." Gahmah handed Violo a to-go box from the same diner he was at earlier before stopping by the Naughty Nexu. "I'll explain the details of the job after I get back and you've chowed down. And get the engines warmed up."


A long walk later and Liamag had brought Gahmah to his own ship's hangar. Gahmah only saw what looked like a cluster of giant metallic eggs balancing on support struts, with the biggest having a large circular window.

"Where is it?" Gahmah asked.

"You're looking at it." Liamag answered in a deadpan tone.

"So… your ship is an egg?"

"This is my mighty vessel, the Bli'go'dag'nak. And the design is a classic Lindorm art piece."

"Your ship is an egg." Gahmah repeated.

"I'm sure you'll remember it, right? Your ship does a good job of standing out itself."

"Your ship is an egg."

"I get it! You think I have a weird taste in ship design! I'm sure plenty of other species think the same about the Vriknash. Anyway, we're good, right?"

"Yes, yes. Crystal clear. I'll definitely be remembering your ship, and I've registered it to Old Vriky's databanks."

"See you on Gorse." A circular hatch popped open on the Bli'go'dag'nak, into which Liamag slithered before closing.

The smaller egg pods hovered off the ground and orbited around the larger egg before it too lifted out of the hanger, the pods continuing to orbit. Once it was out of the hangar, it oriented itself in a way to look a little closer a normal ship design before flying away.


Later, Gahmah had rendezvoused with Violo back at the Vriknash.

"Honey, I'm home!" Gahmah yelled.

"Please don't call me that." Violo wearily replied. "Anyway, how was your tour of Liamag's ship?"

"His ship is an egg." Gahmah stated with a dead tone.

"Ooookay. Anyway, where are we headed?"

"We're going to Gorse."

"Ugh. Not a pleasant vacation spot."

"What do you know about Gorse?"

"It's tide-locked, meaning it's always nighttime on one half and always daytime on the other. The night-half is the only part of the planet that's habitable, but it's not the prettiest type of planet to be on at night and it's plagued by frequent groundquakes. The day-half is hot enough to melt durasteel that isn't heat-shielded. Also, the only thing remarkable about Gorse was the thorilide mining program, and that operation came under fire from lawsuits over abysmal worker safety regulations during the age of the Empire."

"Wouldn't be the Empire or the Remnant without that. As for our target, we're going after Dillosk and the Nature's Omen terrorist cult."

"So they ended up on a Hutt Space bounty board? That's interesting to hear, because I just learned while you were away that the Republic has listed Nature's Omen as a major threat that warrants intervention on their part. So if we want that reward, we better beat them to the punch."

"This should be even more interesting now that we're getting a major galactic superpower involved in this. And I wonder if that'll make the reward even bigger."