Author's Note: Hello, and thank you for reading Night Slayer. This little fic covers my gameplay with several of my OC's. However, it should be made clear that I deviate from the game's plot a lot. Many in-game events are either changed up, rearranged, or eliminated altogether. Why? Because writing gameplay event for event is boring, that's why. Sure, we all know what happens. But this is the story within the story.

Enjoy!

Nine years later…

Nal Hutta

Jiguuna Spaceport

3,640 BBY

He was really, really doing this.

With a few discreet questions and a little luck, remembering his training from his former master, he had tracked his prey here. This wasn't the first time he had engaged in such an act, but he hadn't done it enough to be conditioned against its effects. His heart was still racing and he felt his clothes stick to the sweat coating his skin. Maybe it was supposed to always feel this way, the rush of adrenaline and fear pumping through his blood, threatening to sweep him away in a tide of euphoria.

Hidden behind a mountain of crates, he raised his blaster pistol, gripping it in both hands. His index finger rubbed the trigger and he licked the salt off his lips. This would be his biggest kill to date. Not a nameless thug stealing generators from little old ladies and orphans, but someone of actual significance whose death would have impact in the Underworld. He would have to be noticed after that.

The scum was in his sight and his range. The pistol didn't have sniper capabilities, but it would still catch the guy by surprise and that would be enough. The flamethrower attached to his arm could then finish the job.

Forcing himself to stay focused and not become distracted by his excitement, he adjusted his aim and pulled the trigger.

Poison Pit Cantina

The hoverbike had barely stopped moving when Braden jumped off, shutting down the engine with a click of a button on one of his gauntlets without pause. He rushed into the Poison Pit cantina, weaving through the drunken patrons and giggling dancing girls toward the private room he and his team had taken residence in a few weeks ago.

"Hey, your tab is due!" the cantina owner called out as he dried a glass that looked like it would shatter in his beefy hands. It was not the norm to rent out rooms that were meant for things other than sleeping – this was a cantina, not a hotel. However, the man who needed it had been rather insistent and the extra credits on the side were enough for the owner to comply, if still refusing to like it. This offworlder may look like he was pushing sixty, but judging by his metal armor, vent tubes, and jet pack hanging off his person, he was a bounty hunter and the kind that wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.

E chu ta, he hated bounty hunters and this planet was crawling with them. As far as Poison Pit's owner was concerned, there were enough explosions and people dying with the turf war going on without trigger-happy hovertanks running around killing the survivors and drinking all their beer. He thought himself lucky he was still alive, and he liked keeping it that way.

Braden nodded at the owner in quick acknowledgement as he swept past. If all went well, he would have enough credits to buy the damn place.

"Mako! I need you to pull a holovid for me!" Braden barked as he entered the room. If the owner could see what had happened to this place, he would have, as the saying went, "shat a freighter", "flipped his droid", "gone rakghoul", and other such things. Originally, this had been a simple room with a single bed and dresser and a holopainting of some flowers. Rooms like these were made for a single purpose, one that never lasted very long, and whoever utilized it wouldn't be concerned with the interior decorating. Now, the walls were covered with data screens, arrays, and complex programming consoles, all dedicated to tracking the criminal activities on Nal Hutta, looking for a break, any kind of break.

Braden knew he had finally found that break.

The young female cyborg stared at Braden for a moment before she jumped to her feet, placing her mug of caf on the table and heading toward the main console. "Something up, Braden?" Jory grunted in his native Nikto tongue.

"I think we've found our man," Braden replied as he stepped behind Mako to view the screen. "Slice into the monitor droid from Hangar one- A-eighty-five, Jigunna Space Port, model and serial R-two-seventy-six, triple-zero-five-five-eight-nine-four-H." Mako's fingers danced along the keys, lighting them up in the wake of her touch. Braden had already placed a receiver on the droid that would allow Mako to scan everything within its metal shell. With any luck, no one had removed the suspicious mechanism yet.

"I'm in," Mako announced, scanning through the droid's memory, the cybernetics around her left eye allowing her to catch the data scrolling faster than the average human could keep up with. Curious, Jory joined the two at the console, still sipping his caf.

"Pull footage dated for two Hutta days ago between eighteen and thirty-six hours ."

Mako paused, concern washing over her. "Is this about Vexx?" she asked. One of the most notorious smugglers in Hutt Space and possibly all of the Y'Toub system had his infamous career unexpectedly snuffed out , and the HoloNet had exploded in rumors and speculation over this shocking news. The one responsible, a Rodian bounty hunter whose name Mako had never heard before, had come forward with Vexx's ID tags as proof of his kill, but that only seemed to rile things further. Regardless if whether the HoloNet praised him for his skills or accused him of lying, Ja'yo wasn't an unknown name anymore.

Braden had refused to believe it. Neither Mako nor Jory said so out loud, but they both figured Braden's denial had to do with hoping this protégé he kept looking for would be the one to hunt down Vexx. Killing Vexx would be the key for the protégé to win favor with Nem'ro and then eventually gain enough reputation with the Hutt to get sponsored for the Great Hunt.

Now Vexx was dead, their biggest chance gone forever, and this hypothetical protégé still hadn't turned up anywhere.

Mako wanted more than anything to tell Braden to let it go. As awesome as being a part of the Great Hunt would be, they had been here for almost a standard month with no sign of anyone Braden had the desire to train. The deadline for registration was approaching too soon. He would just have to be happy to monitor the Great Hunt via the HoloNet just like they did last year and the year before that and so on.

She didn't have the heart to open her mouth and so continued scanning the security footage.

"There!" Braden pointed at the crates far off to the side, almost off screen. The crates had moved, but it was so slight that Braden may not have noticed if his eyes had not been trained for picking up on such things. Half a breath later, Vexx appeared, walking toward his starship and not realizing the ambush lying in wait for him. His bodyguards were nowhere to be found. Vexx must have been feeling confident that day, making him careless. Mako squinted her eyes a little and saw the blaster pistol lining up to him, the hand holding it and the forearm disappearing off screen. It was almost creepy how she hadn't noticed the pistol before and suddenly it was there.

The blaster went off and Mako started though she had been expecting it. Vexx fell back when the bolt hit him in the side and the merc shot forward from the crates to continue the assault.

That merc was no Rodian.

"It's a kid!" Mako exclaimed.

Jory cracked a reptilian grin with sudden interest. The merc was smaller than Vexx, but the physical structure indicated a fully adult human male, lean and muscular. He didn't, however, look that much older than Mako's nineteen years.

In spite of the surprise, Vexx was not unprepared. The smuggler whipped out his own two pistols, and the kid had to dodge out of the line of fire. He was fast, coming up out of his tumble already taking aim and shot one of Vexx's guns out of his hand.

"Nice shot," Mako remarked then exclaimed when she noticed the gauntlet on his right arm, "Is that a flamethrower?"

"Indeed it is," Braden agreed. Aside from the obvious blaster, a flamethrower was a must accessory for any bounty hunter trying to make it.

"Then where's the rest of his armor?" Mako was baffled. It was apparent now that they were watching the painful mistakes of a newbie rushing in for the kill thinking a blaster and a few fancy gadgets was all he needed, doing nothing in terms of defense or strategy, and ignoring the unbreakable law of the universe that whatever can go wrong will go wrong.

"I want to know why he's not taking cover," Jory pointed out, shaking his horned head.

"Powertech in the making?" Mako suggested, more of a dry statement than a question, and she groaned. Some bounty hunters – sometimes known informally as "powertech" as opposed to "mercenary" - preferred to rush into battle with guns a-blazing and to the Void with tactics, and while this kid at least got that part right, powertechs were nothing short of walking armories and could afford to endure through immense damage. This kid had a shirt, pants, a gun, and a flamethrower. It was almost painful to watch.

"There he goes," Jory remarked with a nod of approval as the young man dove behind a stack of crates. Now he was getting it. But Vexx had retrieved his second weapon, a mistake that could cost the rookie his life.

"Come on out, little bantha shit," Vexx taunted. "The dashing and daring Vexx isn't done playing with the tiny hunter yet."

There came this strange cracking sound and the smuggler looked up in time to see several crates tumbling down on top of him. He dove out of the way, hitting the floor in a roll, but before he could regain his footing, the rookie leaped on him, and for two seconds seemed to make up for all his earlier misjudgments.

He didn't even get two seconds. Vexx had not survived as one of the most slippery, dangerous criminal smugglers in the Y'Toub system for nothing. The monitor droid had picked up the glint of a vibroknife before it buried itself in the kid's gut, his blaster dropping uselessly to the floor along with a steady flow of blood.

"Oh, you stupid, stupid boy!" Mako cried, her hands flying to her open mouth in shock. Braden could only stare in horror while Jory sighed, shaking his head again. For all his mistakes, the kid had potential, once again gone to waste by too much bravado and visions of grandeur, and not enough stratagem and basic common sense.

The kid's flamethrower slammed into Vexx's nose, knocking the smuggler to the ground. As Vexx there stunned, and the kid took advantage of the time slowly sliding the vibroblade out of his abdomen. Blood soaking through his shirt and down his pants, the kid swayed as he straddled Vexx's hips, probably on the threshold of unconsciousness himself. Vexx moaned, eyelids fluttering, and the kid pressed his flamethrower against the smuggler's face. Vexx's moans escalated into screams of panic when the gauntlet spat out a blazing mini-inferno, and the kid held on as the body writhed beneath him. Vexx's agonized cries reverberated off the walls of the room, covering the bounty hunter team as they gaped at the gruesome scene playing before them.

"That was kinda… unnecessary," Mako groaned, sounding like she was going to be sick.

"You really want him on the team, Braden?" Jory asked. "Because he's got my vote."

Braden didn't respond, because there was still the matter of the kid's wound. He watched as the young man crawled off the smoky body on his knees, one hand clutching his bleeding stomach. His body lurched and his other hand gripped his mouth, and he looked like he was struggling not to pass out or vomit or both. He then reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out a med stim, pressing it to his side. They heard his shallow breathing return to somewhat normal as the kolto rushed through him to close his wound and fight back the pain, at least long enough for him to get more involved medical attention. He struggled to his feet, still holding his stomach.

Only to be thrown back to the floor when a blaster shot rang out.

Jory swore under his breath. "This kid is just not having a good day." It was almost humorous in a dark, horrifying kind of way.

They heard gurgling cackles from the crates and Ja'yo the Rodian stepped into view. "This couldn't have gone any better," he sneered in Huttese, kicking the boy's body, who gave a heavy groan. He then leaned over Vexx's corpse and yanked the ID tags off the charred neck. "Too bad I'll never know who I owe thanks for making my job easier. Perhaps the gods. Or the Force. Or your mother. Yes, maybe I'll pay her a visit to show her my gratitude after I turn this worthy trophy in." With a gargled laugh, he spat on the boy and walked off, perhaps thinking it more fitting for the kid to literally wallow in bloody defeat than putting him out of his misery.

Minutes passed and the kid didn't stir. When Mako reached over to cut off the video, Braden blocked her hand. "What, it's over," Mako said.

"Just wait," Braden shot back, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"Braden-"

"Wait, I said!"

For a long time, it did seem like the kid had finally succumbed to his wounds, the kolto he'd applied only able to do so much especially after getting shot on top of being stabbed. Braden refused to let Mako shut off the feed, however. Come on. Come ON.

Yes! Braden howled with laughter as the kid stirred, struggled to his feet, and stumbled off screen. The old bounty hunter whirled around on his heels, heading for the door, seeing all he needed to see. There may have been a two Hutta-day delay, but with enough luck, persistence, and utilizing everything he had learned from the past several decades of hunting, the kid was still alive and Braden would be able to track him down.

Jiguuna Memorial

The Jiguuna medical ward was always nearly full these days thanks to the violent rivalry between Nem'ro and Fa'athra, medical droids and humanoid staff rushing back and forth to sew lacerations, close bolt wounds, set up blood transfusions, operate on lost causes, and resuscitate the dying. Braden approached the information desk where a round droid stood sorting through data, several thin silver arms reaching out of its round, pink plated body like an Arboreal octopus.

"May I help you, sir?" the droid asked, the voicebox programmed to sound like a middle-aged female that took no one's nonsense.

"I'm looking for a patient," Braden replied.

"Patient's name?"

This was where it got tricky. "I… I don't know."

"Then I can't help you, sir."

Braden sighed, starting to feel a little desperate because Hutta was a huge planet and this was the only lead he had. When he spoke again, he forced himself to remain calm. One could find anything if the right questions were asked. "He's a young man. Human. Maybe late teens, early twenties."

"That doesn't narrow things down, sir. We get lots of that type in here."

"He has a blaster wound. And a stomach wound."

"We get lots of that, too."

"Both?"

"Have you been outside the city lately, sir?"

Braden silently cursed whoever thought it was funny to create a back-talking, smart-alecky droid because it was slowing him down and making him feel a little foolish at the same time. "What about anyone who has been checked in for the past two days?"

"Standard or Hutta?"

Sonuva- "Hutta."

"Alive?"

"…sure."

"One moment, please."

With tiny needle-like fingers, it typed in data on the console and pulled up a list on a bright blue holo screen projecting from its single eye. "We have three-hundred-and-eighty-five matches. Oh, excuse me. Three-hundred-and-eighty-four, looks like one has just deceased. A building collapsed in the market sector one-hundred-and-twelve standard hours ago and these are the human males still kicking."

"What about a patient brought in from Jiguuna Spaceport?"

"One moment, please."

This search was much shorter and the responding bloop didn't sound promising.

"No match."

No, that couldn't be right. "Are you sure? Could he have checked out?"

"We keep record of patients who have visited this facility up to one standard month, sir. After that, it's filed away in their medical archive until they leave the planet."

A thought occurred to Braden then, remembering the kid's gauntlet, and he almost felt stupid for not considering it earlier. "What was my inquiry again?"

"Human male in late adolescence with multiple lacerations having checked in within the past one-hundred-and-seventy-four hours from Jiguuna Spaceport."

"Run it again with male cyborg, instead."

Braden heard the various bleeps and ticks as the data ran again and this time ended with a confident sounding bing! "Maker jimmyrig my insides," the droid remarked dryly. "One match. Name: Ketthan. Age: Twenty standard. Species: Cyborg, 5.2% to human ratio. Gender: Male. That's all the basic information for this individual, must be from offworld. Is this the patient you're looking for, sir?"

"What's his status?"

"Are you his father, sir?"

"…no."

"Grandfather, uncle, sixth cousin twice removed, are you in any way blood related to this patient, sir?"

"No."

"Then your search ends here, sir. Restrictions prevent me from giving out private medical information."

"I'm a friend."

"I apologize, sir, but Article six-thousand-twenty-five point eighteen dash R does not permit any staff to disclose private medical information to friend, best friend, pal, chum, mate, acquaintance, drinking buddy and other such inquiries to include all alien, clan, and otherwise non-Galactic Basic language equivalents. Also, if you do not mind me saying so, sir, from my understanding friends know each other's names, yes?"

"It's been a while," Braden shot back. "Look. At least tell me where he is. It is important that I check up on him."

"Even if I could permit that for a non-family member, you are out of luck, sir. It says here that your friend checked out forty-two hours ago."

Braden didn't know whether to be frustrated or relieved. "So, he is still alive."

"Unless he has been jumped by Fa'athra gang members on his way home, you can assume so. Are there any other inquiries you wish to make today, sir?"

"No… thank you."

"Have a good day, sir, and thank you for visiting Jiguuna Memorial."