Wow, I actually forgot about this story in the craziness of the summer. Sorry about the wait.

I do not own the Star Wars universe, I'm just playing with it. The things that I have created myself in this chapter are Fable Ramsair, and Clan Ramsair and The Bounty Hunter's Order. Do not use them without my permission.

Fable met the client in a private conference room two days after accepting the job. The client was a small woman, but that was all she was able to see. The client was dressed in a dark brown cloak, and kept the hood up over her face, and the lower part of her face was obscured by a white scarf. Her eyes were still visible, but they were an artificial shade of lilac.

Fable's guard was up in an instant. This woman was going out of her way not to be recognized. Either she was really recognizable, or wanted to avoid becoming so. Which was not an easy task from what Fable could tell, this woman, even in disguise, she had a demeanor that commanded attention once she was noticed. It was a rare trait that, if Fable was observant enough, would allow her to recognize the woman when she wasn't in disguise.

Fable had a feeling this job was going to be bigger than she expected, but less known than any other job she will ever take.

"Fable Ramsair I presume?" The client spoke in a crisp, authoritative and aristocratic voice, even though she was obviously using means to make her voice at least an octave lower. Fable was convinced that this woman was known somewhere; there is no other reason why she would go to such lengths to hide herself. She was being smart about it by using a scarf and hood as her main disguise though; even the best disguises, make up and artificial faces could be made useless by her guild's facial recognition software, which was getting somewhat famous as of late.

Fable nodded and kept her tone even and professional. "You presume right."

The woman approached two steps, her tone curt and businesslike. "I was told that you are good at finding people who don't want to be found. You don't need to confirm that, I've read what the Hunter's Order has about you on file, you have the skill and track record we need, and you are an unknown, which will allow you to do this quietly, which is the most important part of this job. Before I tell you the job, I need you to confirm that you are willing to accept it."

Fable shrugged casually, although the mention of her supposed 'track record' amused her slightly, twelve assignments wasn't much of one. "So long as it's not an assassination, I accept."

Fable knew that was an odd thing to say for a bounty hunter, especially a Mandalorian bounty hunter to those who liked to stereotype, but Fable was a bounty hunter, she'd rather leave the hired hits and assassinations to actual assassins, the glorified murders that they were.

The woman visibly relaxed when Fable made it clear that she didn't do assassinations, Fable noted. "I assure you it's not." She closed the gap between them and handed her a datapad, "But it is a job for the Republic military. One standard week ago data, an X-wing and an astromech droid numbered R8-K6 was stolen by a deserter named Ray Seatak. That droid has some important information in it. I want you to recover it."

It may seem rude, but one of the most important rules of the business was to agree on price before setting out, and being blunt about it prevented misunderstandings, "How much will I get for requiring this for you?"

"You will be paid 2,000 credits now and 10,000 on its return to me."

Fable skimmed the files on the 'pad. That was a lot of credits to pay a hunter that hadn't been active for even two years; the most she had made at once was 8,000. The Republic was desperate enough to hire a bounty hunter to get it back, and pay them 12,000 credits to do so. Fable couldn't help but wonder what the data was. "And Seatak? What do you want me to do with him?"

"Your priority is R8-K6. But if you can apprehend Seatak…" the client paused for a moment, "…you will be given a larger sum of credits."

Fable looked at the woman, who she had dubbed 'Republic' in her head. "What condition do you want him in if I do?"

Republic hesitated for a moment, "Recognizable would be preferable."

Fable suppressed a laugh, he'd be recognizable alright. She held her hand out to Republic, "I prefer to shake on a deal."

Republic hesitated before taking Fable's hand in her own gloved one. "I expect you to be subtle about this. Seatak has no clue about the data, and I want to keep it that way."

Fable nodded before releasing Republic's hand, "I assure you, this will be as quiet as I can make it. But how do you know he doesn't know about the data, and if he didn't know about the data, why did he take the droid in the first place?"

"If he had known, he wouldn't have bothered to take the data he knowingly stole. As for him taking the droid, I told you he stole an X-wing as well; he obviously needed a navigator droid and R8 units can be sold at over 1500 credits, if he's willing to that is. He took one of the best units."

Fable cocked her head slightly, "And you don't care about the data that Seatak stole from your files?"

Republic chuckled, sounding almost smug. "It's all false information. We were going to leak it out before he stole it. He'd do us a favor by selling it; make it all seem more legitimate."

Fable smirked under her helmet; a plan just came into mind. "Can you give me a copy of what he stole?"

Republic's eyebrows furrowed in obvious, and predicable, confusion. "Why, so you and your associates have the advantage of knowing the truth?"

Fable shook her head, "A small bonus, but not the reason I'm asking you. He's probably going to sell the information, right?"

Republic eyed her. "That's what we assume…"

Fable noted that this woman probably didn't work in intelligence. She continued to try to clue Republic in to what was obvious to Fable. "And how do you suppose we find the source of leaks, or informants?"

"You…" Republic trailed off as her eyes widened in realization. "You follow the information back to its source…"

Fable nodded. "Exactly, I'm not going to get into how information tracking is done considering it's a trade secret and kind of complicated, but I can tell you it's a lot harder and more time consuming when you don't know what the information is. It's still possible, but it involves a lot of investigating, and more damage will be done by the time the source is found. Trust me, if I know the content of what Antilles stole, and he starts to sell that information, I can find him, and by extension the droid, a lot quicker."

Republic nodded thoughtfully, but her reluctance was obvious. "That makes sense. But I must ask my superiors first."

Fable gestured to a door in the corner of the room. "They told you about the sound proof room, right?" They had one attached to every conference room. They were quite useful, middle men could comm. a client, partners can evaluate a job and delicate information can be exchanged without anyone outside it hearing a sound. There were also no listening or recording devices in them; Fable had checked each room several times once on a slow day.

Republic nodded as she turned and walked towards it. "Yes, makes you wonder how many secrets there are here."

Fable ignored the obvious jab at either the Hunter's Order or herself as she read the datapad. The woman's face may have been obscured, but she still conveyed a lot. Her stance, the way she was speaking and her movements were telling Fable that she did not want to be here. Seeking out a bounty hunter must seem like an act of the worst kind of desperation to Republic, meaning that the data was much more important than she was letting on. Not that Fable cared, no matter how curious she was, she would not look at that data. To do so would be a breach of contract, and that was both unprofessional and dishonorable.

It also seemed like Republic didn't like bounty hunters. She was on guard, tense and suspicious. It was clear that she didn't trust anyone within this compound. And her assumption that Fable would kill Ray Seatak, or that she would want the false information to get ahead made her personal feelings obvious. Republic thought that all people in Fable's trade were greedy scum who found killing fun.

Sure, a good amount of bounty hunters were like that, but not all of them.

Fable's musings were interrupted by Republic's return. She held out her hand to Fable. "If you could return the datapad for a moment, I can upload what he stole to it."


Fable sat in the cockpit of Order Ship 7 and scrolled through the false data. Most of them were reports stating projects were behind schedule, with a few under staff complaints from small bases thrown in. Fable smiled when she stumbled on a memo reporting that the Corellian Flu was making its rounds throughout the bases.

It seems the New Republic wasn't above dirty tricks after all. Fable knew of several groups, especially the Empire, who would attack the Republic in a heartbeat if they heard this information. This meant that the Republic had set traps, and a lot of them.

Clever, very clever of them.

Fable opened a comm. channel and waited for a response. She had it in seconds.

"Fleet here, what do you need?" Fable smiled at the chipper, albeit somewhat distracted, voice. Fleet, as he called himself, a small time information broker and Fable's main informant. The computer whiz could find any bit of data or information so long as it was stored somewhere with an extranet connection. Not only that, but he could run facial recognition software on an entire planet's security cams, receiving an alert when a facial match was caught on hologram. The best part was that helping Fable was the guy's hobby. He was the heir to some large corporation that's name Fable didn't bother to remember. Apparently it only needed the owner a few times a year to look good at parties, meaning he was very rich, but had far too much time on his hands. Three years ago Fable had, on a whim and against her better judgment, risked her neck to help him. In return, she had learned of his little hobby of hacking and finding out things he shouldn't and got his services for free. A fair trade, especially if the stunt she pulled then bit her in the ass.

"Hey Fleet, its Fable, I need you to do something for me."

"Anything you need, free of charge as always."

Did he really have to say that every time? She used him too often to forget that. "I'm sending you a profile image, run it through transports departing Coruscant for the last two weeks." Normally, she'd have him try and match the false information to gossip too, but the less that got around, the better. The Republic was delaying leaking the information for a small time, meaning Seatak would be the only possible source. But she needed to at least know what system he was in first, and if she was lucky, Fleet would name the planet too.


It would take a little over a week to get to where Fleet said Seatak disembarked the transport. Like most fugitives, he ran to some backwater planet Fable wasn't going to remember the name of. Fable really hoped he was planning to stay there, because it would be really annoying if Fleet told her he had boarded another transport when she was halfway there.

She hated it when she had to travel through large non-hyperspace zones, but it was impossible to make a hyperspace route to the planet she was going to, so she needed to fly manually. Thankfully, there were places where pilots could park their ship to rest and refuel all along the route.

She had finally taken advantage of one when she realized she had been awake for forty-eight hours and needed rest. She was pleasantly surprised at how cheap they were. Bounty hunting was an expensive trade to be part of, and newcomers often found themselves going broke. Fable had to budget her funds carefully, especially since she was saving credits for her own ship.

Fable didn't bother putting on her helmet as she sat in the pilot's seat. She gave her reflection a glance out of habit, more to check if anything was behind her than to look at her own appearance. She never saw herself as anything above average. Her hair was a common brown color, normally held back, and fell in a simple cut if she let it down. Her eyes weren't spectacular either, just a simple, normal shade of green. The only thing worth noticing around her face were her tattoos. Curving blue lines formed an intricate pattern on her forehead and temples. She hid those tattoos from most of the world, there might be unpleasant misunderstandings otherwise.

Seeing that nobody was trying to sneak up behind her, Fable started up the ship and prepared for another day of flying through nothing.


She was surprised at how polite the members of the Bounty Hunters Order were to her. And this Fable Ramsair was very personable for a Mandalorian. That was what was most surprising, a Mandalorian that was actually polite, one might even say friendly, to someone outside her culture. From what she understood, Mandalorians tended act hostile towards, shut out, or simply ignore non-Mandalorians.

Then again, she was hiring Ramsair, so the bounty hunter had every reason to be friendly. It might get her paid more. That's all bounty hunters cared about anyway, their bank accounts.

Hiring one of them for the Republic made her feel dirty. Like she was she was slogging through a mud pit full of insects, diseases and rotting plants, causing her to be caked in the filth. It was a degrading experience that she was reluctant to go through since the last time she had the misfortune of running into a bounty hunter, but she wanted the others to avoid it.

So she was stuck dealing with the bounty hunters herself. Thankfully none of them had recognized her, but Ramsair radiated suspicion at one point. That's what bothered her the most; there was something about her that she couldn't identify.

That Mandalorian seemed to take in the world around her in the most peculiar manner. She analyzed everything she saw and heard, and responded with calculated judgments. It was all too reminiscent of another, more famous, Mandalorian bounty hunter. But that could be a cultural thing for all she knew about them.

But what made her the most uncomfortable when speaking to Ramsair was a familiar feeling that only came when she was around certain people. She had dismissed the idea at first, Mandalorians were said to reject that type of person.

Still, the suspicion wouldn't go away.