Prologue
The Way She Left Things

I.

"You covered your tracks well."

The older Twi'lek's face was hidden by a wide-brimmed hat and a lower face mask. Her voice was deep, feminine and — unlike her figure — betrayed her age.

Calm and emotionless, she pulled back her long trench coat to reveal a reinforced blast vest crisscrossed with a fully stocked ammo belt. Her right hand moved to the sleek WL-29 fixed in its holster. The display was for show; nothing more than an intent to establish dominance in the room.

A few minutes earlier the aging bounty hunter and her Weequay gun woman gained access to the Haven's Blaze casino's executive living quarters by distracting the ground floor lift guards with a combination of flirtation, diversionary tactics and good old-fashioned tranquillizers before slicing the elevator and taking it up to the 130th floor.

The seasoned hunter had then applied a small explosive charge to breach the door to suite 133. Within, the two gun-wielding women found their target: a young Twi'lek female.

Entering, they found their bounty calmly waiting for them. She sat cross-legged and unsurprised on an ornate lounger in a flimsy dressing gown. Her hand rested on the shaky knee of a half-dressed Bothan male. The same Bothan the old hunter had questioned before arriving. The same Bothan who'd claimed not to know of the young woman's whereabouts.

He'd been unaware of the tracking device planted on him. Poor lovestruck fool.

The bounty hunters quickly swept the apartment for any hidden dangers while the seated couple looked on, offering no resistance. The only notable fixture in the apartment was a startled protocol droid.

As the intrusive duo finished scanning the suite the young Twi'lek stood and fluidly walked to the small bar table by the panoramic window. The shimmersilk dressing gown made her movements appear graceful.

"No tricks," the older woman demanded, moving warily towards her target.

Unconcerned, the robed Twi'lek picked up a crystalline carafe from the bar and slowly shook it from side to side. The rich brown liquid within churned hypnotically.

Now, moments after the incursion, hunter and quarry stood with eyes deadlocked. The whiskey was still swirling.

When the older Twi'lek spoke her voice simmered with indignation.

"It took us two months to figure out you'd faked your death, Nini. Then another six to retrace—"

"Nini? What?" The partly dressed Bothan leapt from his seat to interrupt, pointing an accusatory finger at the woman who'd shared a bed with him before the breach of privacy. "You told me your name was Supisy!"

The startled man temporarily forgot the Weequay woman's weapon in his side. She growled at the hirsute man's overly expressive antics. He hadn't been invited to speak.

"Shut the mongrel up, Trogg," the aging mercenary directed.

The Weequay woman pressed her gun barrel against the Bothan's temple, leading him to an armchair further away.

"Mongrel? I mean ... come on. That's just rude," he said flippantly. "She really did tell me her name was Supisy. Now, who are you people?"

Trogg shoved the man down into the seat and flanked him, tapping the blaster barrel to his cheek, reminding him who the boss was in the situation.

"Really, Nini. A Bothan?" The elder woman's tone exuded disgust. She scoffed. "Such hairy messes. You were raised better."

"Clearly, she wasn't," the man said.

Unprompted, Trogg slugged the shirtless, barefoot man between the legs. He instantly doubled over and mewled in pain.

The young Twi'lek ignored the assault on her lover and picked up a round-bottomed glass to pour herself a drink. The glassware contact tinkled like tiny falling jewels.

The lag in conversation afforded the older Twi'lek opportunity to stir the room's emotional tension.

"Your Kowakian monkey-lizard of a boyfriend led us straight to you. Just like his wife said he would." The old hunter curled her lip in disgust. "Do you really crawl into bed with that furball?"

The abused man crawling back up into the armchair opened his mouth to defend himself, but Trogg's sharp tongue-click snapped him back into reality. He coiled himself into a sitting fetal position, groaning and cradling his groin.

Thirst quenched, the young Twi'lek exhaled in refreshment and set her glass down on the countertop. She leaned against the bar, gripping its edge with both hands.

"What's the payout?" she asked. "I'll double it."

"There is no payout," the older woman replied.

"Then why are you here?"

"To reclaim you."

In a swift, balletic movement the young Twi'lek tossed her lekku around her neck like a scarf.

"I'm no one's property."

In this moment, the Bothan realized just how little he knew about the object of his on-again-off-again affections.

"Oh, don't be dramatic." The older Twi'lek rolled her eyes. "You know we have unfinished business, eswo."

The young woman thoughtfully stroked her lekku, composing herself.

"Let Norr go. He has nothing to do with this."

"Too messy. I let him go and the bantha-brained buffoon'll call in his goons to defend you," the experienced Twi'lek anticipated. "Men like him are barely even good for their tal'kan."

"What did she say about me?" Norr asked. The three women ignored him.

"I have a new life now. Without your orders," the young woman said. Her older rival let out a deep crescendoing chuckle that filled the room.

Norr watched wide-eyed at the evolving spectacle.

What in chaos is going on? he wondered.

"You can't make a life with a talking mop," the older woman remarked, nodding her head towards the pouting man.

"Hey!" Norr interjected. Trogg's hand was already around his neck.

"This boy isn't—"

"I'm not a 'boy', lady. I'm a man," Norr interjected.

"You're not a man until you can take Trogg here in a barefist fight," the older woman said derisively, gesturing to her sturdy companion."Care to prove yourself?"

Norr took a moment to visually assess the Weequay from head to toe.

"I'll settle for being the only 'boy' on Nar Shaddaa with his own swanky cantina and private landing pad, thank you very much," he said.

The young Twi'lek gestured for her lover to quiet down before redirecting the conversation to negotiating her freedom with the hardened bounty hunter.

"And if I refuse to go with you?"

"I shoot your soulmate in the spine so he lacks the motivation to mount you," the older woman said frankly. "Also, you'll never know the reason your father sent me to find you after all these years."

"I'll just call him myself." The young woman walked briskly towards a wall-mounted holo-terminal, robe billowing behind her.

"How can you ignore the fact she just threatened to maim me?" Norr hollered in his lover's direction, dramatically waving his hands.

"Funny," the usually reticent Trogg chuckled in before giving the Bothan a merciful pistolwhip across the face. "Your wife didn't seem to mind the prospect either."

"Your father won't take your calls," said the older Twi'lek to her robed rival. "Not after all the years of silence and months of mourning, believing—"

"Stop!" the young woman shouted.

"—believing you were dead." The older woman raised her voice to be heard. "You handled his poorly, Nini. Very poorly."

The room's mood shifted, becoming less tense and more sombre.

"He mourned you. Recklessly," the older woman continued in an embittered tone. "Even after he discovered you were alive. I don't know which broke his heart more believing you were dead or knowing his favourite child abandoned him."

"Don't."

"I'll sweeten the deal. You come peacefully, see your father and I'll guarantee he lets you go afterwards," the bounty hunter offered. "You'll be free to pursue whatever life you want with his blessing — even if it involves conceiving mutant children with this inadequate, miniature wookie ... through ... Sith alchemy ... or whatever."

The old woman removed her from her blaster belt to wave dismissively at Norr who was almost fully recovered from the blow to his reproductive assets, but nursing the bruise to his face. He intently watched the exchange between the two women. It was better than any holodrama he'd ever seen. The longer it went on the more intriguing it became and the more questions he had.

The Bothan took the opportunity to muster the courage to interject.

"Who are you?" he asked his lover.

As an entrepreneur, Norr thrived on the myriad of challenges running a hotel cantina offered. His keen, culturally-instilled business acumen meant that, more often than not, he was on the winning end of his ventures. "Supisy's" disposition indulged this emotional need for competitive cat-and-mouse play. It was now clear her mysterious lure had been more than just a tactic to gain his romantic attention.

The Bothan had the security of having a stable, forgiving, and loving mate waiting for him at home. She'd given him a beautiful son, and his parents adored his new family. But he couldn't help but be drawn to the young Twi'lek over and over again. She baffled and infuriated him, testing his sense of self in a way no other woman had.

Were he a more resolute man he would have rejected the traditional mateship his parents arranged and settled into a life with his fiery Twi'lek.

Sometimes what a man really needed was the exact opposite of what he thought was best for him.

"Let me get dressed," said the young Twi'lek. "You release Norr, we leave the casino and you get your bounty."

"Deal. But the Both comes with us on the way out. I don't take chances," the older woman responded. "Trogg, stay here with the walking carpet while I keep an eye on this one."

The two Twi'leks made their way to the large dressing screen that separated the bedroom from the living space.

As Norr's lover passed him she reached out to caress his face with cupped hands before disappearing behind the screen with her captor.

Earlier that day when the older Twi'lek showed up at his cantina to inquire about his lover Norr never imagined the situation would end up with him being beaten and held at gunpoint by two thugs.

Who is this woman? he asked himself.

Glossary

Bothan: a sentient humanoid species of pointy-eared furry mammalians native to planet Bothawui.

eswo (Ryl): beloved or favoured one.

lekku: the two long cranial tentacles (singular "lek") protruding from the sides of a Twi'lek's skull.

tal'kan (Ryl): "penis."

Twi'lek: a sentient species of humanoids with twin cranial tentacles called lekku (singular "lek") native to planet Ryloth.

Weequay: a sentient humanoid species with leathery tan to dark brown skin native to planet Sriluur.