On the sands of Tatooine, far from the spaceports and sun-baked towns, was the palace of Jabba the Hutt. Poised on the top of a massive hill; it stood out against all the other beiges and browns. A dull brown rock on the landscape, I eased my ship onto the landing pad. I suppressed a shiver. This was it. Again.

My second bounty for Jabba the Hutt.

An orphan, I had taken up bounty hunting years ago; when I was fourteen. Business was slow; my solo bounties dangerous and sometimes failing. Few people trusted a teenage girl.

Except Jabba. Via a brief holonet conversation, I charmed the fat slug into handing a job over. I heard it was a group bounty; and other hunters were involved. Whoever caught the most would get the money; there were no rules.

I didn't really intend to make any profit from this. I wanted to improve my resume, so to speak. A hunter working for Jabba the Hutt wasn't a joke; if you were a joke, you would have already been a snack for his pit beasts.

Gammorean Guards flanked every door. The glowered with beady eyes the size of walnuts; their dripping snouts protruding out from under faces nearly as fat and pudgy as their master's. The room Jabba lounged in was large and brimming with assassins, guards, and the like. The Mighty Hutt himself was on a raised platform read and center; where the attention was always on him. The floor in front of him had a trap door leading to the pit beasts.

Secretly adjusting my weapons belt and squirming in my boots, I joined the throng of other bounty hunters lining one wall. Casually scanning the crowd, I felt out of place and even a little insane. There were kids here, younger than me, weighed down by weapons. Was this some sort of game, or was Jabba really desperate? Was he suddenly recruiting youth to take over for his aging mercenaries?

I was getting the inkling that I should get out of their; that it was a hoax. But I couldn't leave until the hunt was completed; his thugs would take care of that. Some of these kids looked more capable than me. And in my small circle of equals, only one looked like he could smash everyone in the room to bits.

Not that he would; the way he carried himself demonstrated that he thought himself one of Jabba's best. I had no doubt that he was. Few approached him but many glanced at him as they talked with colleagues. He did not return these looks; instead he turned his head away in disinterest.

My eyes wandered towards the food table where pungent and sweet aromas combined to present grotesque food; unfit for humans. But food nonetheless.

"You're Mandalornian."

The hair on the back of my neck rose. I slowly turned around. It was the bounty hunter in the notable green armor.

"What makes you think that?" I challenged.

"You've got the emblem on your shoulder plate." He gestured to my arm. The sudden movement made me jump. This guy was making me uncomfortable. But I glanced at the Madalornian skull glowing in the deep orange plate. The metal was a remnant of my father's armor; I wore it to honor his memory.

"It's my Father's," I explained. "He was raised Mandalornian by his mother until she died."

"He didn't raise you as one?" He asked gruffly.

I paused. "No… no. he wasn't around much." I expected a harsh remark, but the bounty hunter was full of understanding. "Some people leave before their time."

I nodded. This guy wasn't as distant as I first thought, but he was far from warm and cuddly. He wasn't much of a talker. But that was simply his nature. Underneath that helmet, he seemed almost normal. As normal as teen bounty hunters get.

"Did you know your father?" I inquired, trying to make conversation. I didn't want to be left standing alone in a crowd of scum and criminal minds.

He paused. "I don't talk about him."

"I see."

My mistake; a big mistake. I should have just kept to myself.

At that moment, Jabba rumbled something in Huttese to get our attention. And he plunged into a short briefing full of jeers and ecstatic cries from the crowd of employees. As he dismissed us to be on our way, I glanced over at Boba Fett. He was striding off in a different direction. Out a wind rattled window I glimpsed a ship on a private landing platform; undoubtedly his. This guy was high up; no doubt of that.

….

In space, piloting my craft along with the other hunters, heading to our target, I tried to steer clear of the others. No need to give them a reason to shoot me down. Yes, killing off was allowed; Jabba didn't mind as long as you brought the bounty back. And Jabba was assuming his best would kill off the weak; and if the weak would kill off the best they would be his new best. That was how it worked.

I didn't spot the green armored bounty hunters ship again. Perhaps it had already gone into hyperspace; but I couldn't' tell. I kept my ship going in a straight line. I was near the end of the crowd of ships jockeying for position. I could bide my time.

And all of the sudden, fire tore the vacuum behind me. Peering into the view screen I saw the green hunter's ship. He was firing on… me? Why?

My fingers dashed across the controls, trying to hail him on the com as my sturdy vessel took a blast. Finally, I got him. "What are you doing?" I demanded, trying to keep obvious panic out of my voice.

He took a minute to answer. "Increasing my chances of success." Another two bolts blasted at my ship.

I leaned back in my chair; too numb to navigate. Bounty hunting? What was I thinking? A job with Jabba the Hutt? I was insane. I had no time to think about how overconfidence had been my demise.

I was blasted into oblivion.

A fic I wrote a while back when I wasn't the best writer. Feedback is always appreciated.