Bossk's clawed hand throbbed painfully after he punched the durasteel wall in his anger. It had only been moments ago when he had learned of Boba Fett's joining of the Bounty Hunter's Guild… and it drove him insane with rage. Was his father that much of an idiot? Was it not clear enough that this was just another one of that sleemo's dirty tricks?
Over the course of years, their rivalry had grown- his and Fett's. For too long now Bossk had been fighting for the title of number one bounty hunter with him. And now, with Boba Fett surrounded by enemies and his life resting on a sliver of trust based on mutual goals, with that man right within reach, he couldn't be touched; the Hunter's Creed protected him from being harmed by another member of the Guild.
He punched the wall again, issuing a low, threatening growl.
"Bossk," a voiced addressed.
Quickly spinning around, the young Trandoshan faced his sire, Cradossk, with a snarl. Still wearing the ceremonial robes covered in wine stains from the banquet, the head of the Bounty Hunter's Guild approached him, followed by another.
"What do you want, old man?" Bossk questioned with an edge of barely concealed hate in his tone.
Cradossk's claws twitched, and then curled into a tight fist before unclenching again. For a moment, it seemed as if they would fight. Neither was pleased with the other that night- as if they ever were. Instead of raising a hand, however, Cradossk kept his voice low and menacing, and said, "Since you were gone on your failed mission, I never had the time to introduce you to another one of our newest members of the Guild. You wouldn't know her; she came here a day after you left."
"Forget it. I know where this is going," Bossk interrupted, his eyes narrowing to slits, "And I'm not babysitting another fool." Cradossk had already forced some pathetic excuse for a bounty hunter named Zuckuss onto him- just on that last mission in fact. The Gand had whined the entire time and had irritated him to no end.
"Too bad," Cradossk replied, "because this one actually requested to be paired with you. Only the Scorekeeper knows why…"
"Oh yeah," he turned his suspicous gaze to the female standing behind his father, "Why me?"
The female said nothing- just cocked her head slightly to one side and stared back at him. Frankly, it was more like she was staring straight through him. The thought made him shiver a bit. He didn't know if it was paranoia that made him think that or not though, because he couldn't even see her eyes. The mask-like helmet she wore seemed like it was her actual face. If you could call it a face. Nothing- not a single feature- showed any sign of a nose, mouth, or eyes. The visor even blended in with the rest of the helmet; it was a blank, expressionless slate of solid, metallic black. The body suit and plated armor the female wore was made of the same material. Her hands were covered with thick gloves and her boots were in near perfect condition, as if she hardly walked in them at all.
Something that bothered Bossk was that he couldn't get a scent on the girl besides a sterile smell of cleansers and sanitizers. Trandoshans relied on their sense of smell just as much as sight. A person's scent could give away so much about them- where they last came from, what species they were from, even what their personalities may be like. But with this girl… nothing; no molecule of air gave anything away about her and that worried him.
There was no obvious way to identify who or what she was. The only way that he could even tell she was a female was due to the clear bulge of her bosoms underneath the armor.
Silent, deadly, cold- her presence spoke all that and more. Her appearance made her seem as if she was some creature out of a story told to younglings in order to scare them into behaving. Even in the lights of the halls, she stood as a solid silhouette to the world; a figure of darkness taking light in and trapping it away forever.
"She doesn't talk much," Cradossk answered for her. "She hasn't even given me a name for her to go by. But apparently in the Outer Rim, the few people who know of her call her Shadow."
Well that fits, Bossk thought as he gave the girl another look up and down.
The older Trandoshan continued, "I didn't know of her existence for a while myself and from what I've gathered, she's been an independent agent for some time. I took it upon myself to find her, speak with her, and bring her here," looking from his son to the Shadow, he added, "but you were part of the deal. Don't ask why- she didn't tell me either. I don't know if you made her mad at some point, perhaps got drunk with her, or what, Bossk, but she wished to partner with you."
Bossk glared fiercely at the female for a long while, then to his father, then back to the girl before stating, "No chance!"
Cradossk sighed. Shaking his head, he waved a hand in the air and began to walk away. "I'll leave you two alone to deal with this. Oh, and Bossk," he stopped only to spare a sidelong glance at him, "be sure to meet with me when you're through. We must speak of our new brother in the Guild."
Bossk hissed softly. The last thing he wanted to do was hear more of his father's lame speeches of brotherhood and unity, especially with Fett involved. Turning to look back at the girl, he figured he might as well talk to her long enough to stall that conversation.
"Who are you?" Bossk asked crossing his arms over his chest. Rather than answering, the other hunter began walking closer to him… too close for comfort. He swore he felt his scales bristle. His muscles tightening in tension and his hand falling to the blaster pistol at his hip, Bossk began again, "Look, I don't know who the heck you are, but don't you come one step closer to me you little jetar madle-"
Just as he began to pull the blaster free from its holster and aim, the Shadow made her move. Swiftly, she grabbed his wrist made him drop his weapon, the pistol clattering to the floor, and twisted his arm back behind his head. A shiny, ironically delicate looking knife found a spot at his neck to rest against. His eyes widened in shock. She had done it so fast!
Leaning her helmeted head close to his ear canal, she spoke for the first time in a seductive whisper that could've freezed the blood in one's veins to ice, "You don't remember me?"
Growling, he looked back at her with fire in his eyes, "I already told you no, you psychotic spawn of a skank! Now let go of me before I decide to bleed you dry the minute I get my claws on you."
Ignoring him, she stated, "I remember you, Bossk." His name, spoken by her, seemed to come so natural and so terrifying all at once, but he tried not to let it get to him. The knife pressed a little harder against his throat, but not enough to cut. It then began traveling up and to the back of his head, "Perhaps I need to refresh your memory."
Bossk waited to the blow, waited for the last possible moment, the perfect moment, to break free from the female's hold, take the blade from her hands, and gut her with her own knife. But the strike never came. Instead, there was an odd sound- somewhat a mix of a crack, a pop, and a hiss- coming from behind him.
And a pair of warm, full lips pecked his neck.
The anger swiftly being replaced with confusion, Bossk turned around, looking into the now unmasked face of a human female with dark hair. No, not human, some part of him corrected, Rigossan. But where had that come from? And then the girl smiled.
"Tyra?" he shouted loud enough to wake the dead. When the girl laughed, that was as good as a yes to him. Still bewildered, he gaped at her. Her Basic had turned out much better than before, when her sentences were choppy and poor. Now, with a unique and lusty voice to match, no one would've ever guessed of her primitive culture. And by the Scorekeeper, she had grown! No longer was she that little girl that looked frail enough to snap in two, but a woman with well-built muscles, a curved figure, and confidence that matched her independent nature. One look was all it took to tell that she had matured from a naïve child to someone who could take on the galaxy by storm. It stunned him to see such change in her.
To be brutally honest, he had thought she was dead, like most of the other Force-users in the galaxy. The newly made Empire had hunted down and practically wiped them all out. He should've known- he had hunted a few himself for bounties. When he had heard on the holonet that the Maliki had been attacked, there had been a surprisingly guilty feeling in his gut- as if by taking her to them, he had actually written out her death sentence himself. But now…
"I promised you we'd meet again," she said.
Tyra was alive. And she was here.
Right in the midst of people who would kill her on sight if they ever found out about her past.
Surprise, relief, and annoyance swept over him at once. Bopping her against the head, he exclaimed in a softer voice, "You idiot! What possessed you to come here? Are you trying to get yourself killed?"
"So much for a fond reunion," she mumbled. Seeing his snarl, she added, "Relax, no one's going to find out anything. After years of sneaking around the boys in white, believe me, I know what I'm doing."
"What are you doing here?" he insisted.
She shrugged, "When Cradossk asked me to join the Guild, I figured it'd be a good way to hide under the Imperials' noses and," she looked him in the eyes and smirked, "see how an old friend was doing."
"You're crazy, you know that right?"
"No one ever accused me of being sane."
Huffing, Bossk turned away from her, "If you get yourself into trouble, don't think I'm going to save your skin this time."
"Oh really," Tyra stepped in front of him, her arms behind her back, "I wouldn't be too sure about that."
"What are you blabbering about?"
With a smug look, she replied, "I've been studying up on Trandoshan culture, Bossk. I know about your life debts. That was the only reason you didn't kill me or send me straight to Pekt after Jubili, right?" He didn't hear the well hidden disappointment in her voice.
"Yeah," he said, not liking where this was going, "and I did more than repay it when I healed you on the Hound and saved you from Pekt."
"True, but technically it was your fault to begin with that I got my chest cut open. I would've killed that Rattataki on my own had you not pulled me off of him and allowed him the chance to swing his sword at me."
…Admittedly, she kind of had a point there. "I still saved you from Pekt."
"Yes, butI also saved you from that Demon on Iego."
Bossk opened his mouth to speak, but coming up with nothing else, he hissed at her and said, "I hate you."
"Yeah," she grinned at him, "but you're also stuck with me."
