Disclaimer: I don't own anyone except my bounty hunter, and I'm not making any money off this, so don't sue. Please. I'm poor.
Author's Note: If you've read any of my other stories, you know the drill: ~ ~ for character thoughts and * * for emphasized words. Even if you haven't read any of them, you now know the drill. One thing about my bounty hunter; she speaks with a very heavy accent. I'll try to convey it here, but I'm not sure how effective I'll be, so if anything looks misspelled, it's probably because she's talking.
On with the show. . .
Bounty
Part 1
by DamiaMulder
A dark-cloaked figure made its way quickly yet silently down the alley behind the Rogue Squadron pilot's barracks. Crouching beneath a half-open widow, it pulled a Hapan Gun of Command from under the cloak. A slim, long-fingered hand clutched the Gun, holding it at the ready as the figure silently slid through the window.
Once inside, the figure doffed the cloak, folded the thin material, and slipped it inside a pocket in the dark flightsuit she wore. She slipped down the hall, reaching out with weak Force senses to determine where her quarry was. She got a fix and started for the end of the hall and the room there.
About halfway to her target, her danger sense flared. As she looked quickly about for a place to hide she felt someone approaching from the direction she was heading. A sense of despair rose in her, but she pushed it away. There was nowhere to hide and she'd been ordered not to kill anyone. In fact, if she did kill someone, it would show in her payment. She did all she could to make herself inconspicuous, then tried to identify the person approaching.
Dark hair, dark eyes, about average height. She recognized him immediately as the one her employer wanted. She would have preferred to collect him from his quarters, where any sounds would likely be muffled or deadened. Ah, well. At least he was alone. She raised the Gun of Command and pointed it straight at him.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Good night, Wedge," Iella Wessiri said with a smile. She gave him a kiss, then disappeared into her apartment.
As he walked back to Rogue Squadron's barracks, he found himself smiling as he thought back over the evening's events. First, dinner with Iella at a very good Corellian restaurant, then a walk through the oro woods from Alderaan. They'd both enjoyed their time together that night.
He unlocked the front door, then stepped inside, the door automatically locking again when it shut. He was about to enter his room when he felt a chill wind blow through the window at the end of the hall. ~Storm must be brewing,~ he thought, and headed down the hall to shut the window.
About halfway there, he noticed a dark-clothed feminine figure crouched in the shadows by the door to Gavin Darklighter's quarters. He also noticed she had some sort of blaster-like weapon pointed directly at him.
"Don't move. Don't speak," she said. Her voice was scratchy, quiet and heavily accented. "Hends up." After he'd complied, she ran a hand down either side of his body, looking for comlinks and anything that could be used as a weapon. She came away with a holdout blaster and a vibro-shiv, which she tucked into the belt around her hips. "Now, out the window. Quietly." Once outside, she marched him down three blocks, turned left and stopped in a dead-end alley.
"Who are you?" Wedge asked his abductor.
"Thet es not enformation you need to know. I vill not hurt you es long es you obey orders. You are vorth nothing to me, injured or dead," she replied.
"Bounty hunter. That's what I thought. But who--"
"Silence." She waved her hand over a portion of wall that looked like solid duracrete. A panel slid aside and she directed Wedge into the room beyond. She pointed to a chair. "Sit." She surprised Wedge by not tying him down. Instead, she told him, "You move, I shoot," with enough authority that he believed her words. She then went to rummage through the contents of a large wooden chest.
She pulled out several piles of cloth, sorted through them, and put a couple back. She closed and locked the chest, got up, and picked up the piles of cloth. She dropped one armful on the small table next to Wedge's chair, then pointed him to a door.
"Put those on. You ken chenge en there. Eef you are not out en ten minutes, I vill come in to check on you. Eef you are not there, I vill hunt you down. Got et?"
"Yes. Um, is there some name I can call you by? I don't like not having a name to go with a face."
"Fine. You need a name for me? Call me Hope."
"Why Hope?"
"Enough questions. Get dressed."
He did. When he emerged from the room, which turned out to be a 'fresher, Hope was nowhere in sight. There was a small satchel on the floor, propped against one of the table legs. His first impulse was to look through it to see if there was something to help him escape. He pushed that thought away, figuring Hope had a surveillance cam hidden somewhere and was watching every move he made. He decided instead to sit down.
Just before he could, however, the duracrete panel slid open and a drenched and dripping Hope scrambled inside. Apparently the storm he'd felt brewing had broke. He hadn't heard anything
"My ship es scheduled to leave een en hour. Ve leave here een half thet time. Sleep eef you ken en thet time." She looked him up and down and said, "They feet good, no? They look good on you. I'm gled somebody vill get to use them."
"Why do you say that?"
"They belonged to my husbend. Before the Emperor hunted all the Jedi down."
"Your husband was a Jedi?"
"Not only Jedi Knight. Jedi Mester."
"Are you a Jedi?"
"A Jedi bounty hunter? No. I was my husbend's padawan, but I never got the chence to finish my trening before he died."
"Padawan?"
"Epprentice."
"Oh."
They sat in silence for a while, until Hope announced that it was time to leave. Wedge, who was just beginning to doze off, shook his head and yawned, then pulled himself to a standing position.
"Here. Clip this on your belt." She handed him a cylindrical object not unlike the handle of Luke Skywalker's lightsaber.
"Is it--"
"Real? Yes, but don't get eny ideas about escape. Pulling lightsabers out of hends is one Jedi technique I em very good et."
"You are very different from the bounty hunters I've met up with."
"Of course. I em better. You hev not likely met up with meny Force-trained bounty hunters before. There are not meny of us around."
"True enough. Is it still storming out there?"
Hope waved her hand over one of the tiles by the door panel, which slid open. A deafening crack of thunder exploded overhead. Hope pulled her hood up and motioned for Wedge to do the same.
"I guess that answers *that* question," he said under his breath.
They slipped out into the storm.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Author's Note: If you've read any of my other stories, you know the drill: ~ ~ for character thoughts and * * for emphasized words. Even if you haven't read any of them, you now know the drill. One thing about my bounty hunter; she speaks with a very heavy accent. I'll try to convey it here, but I'm not sure how effective I'll be, so if anything looks misspelled, it's probably because she's talking.
On with the show. . .
Bounty
Part 1
by DamiaMulder
A dark-cloaked figure made its way quickly yet silently down the alley behind the Rogue Squadron pilot's barracks. Crouching beneath a half-open widow, it pulled a Hapan Gun of Command from under the cloak. A slim, long-fingered hand clutched the Gun, holding it at the ready as the figure silently slid through the window.
Once inside, the figure doffed the cloak, folded the thin material, and slipped it inside a pocket in the dark flightsuit she wore. She slipped down the hall, reaching out with weak Force senses to determine where her quarry was. She got a fix and started for the end of the hall and the room there.
About halfway to her target, her danger sense flared. As she looked quickly about for a place to hide she felt someone approaching from the direction she was heading. A sense of despair rose in her, but she pushed it away. There was nowhere to hide and she'd been ordered not to kill anyone. In fact, if she did kill someone, it would show in her payment. She did all she could to make herself inconspicuous, then tried to identify the person approaching.
Dark hair, dark eyes, about average height. She recognized him immediately as the one her employer wanted. She would have preferred to collect him from his quarters, where any sounds would likely be muffled or deadened. Ah, well. At least he was alone. She raised the Gun of Command and pointed it straight at him.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Good night, Wedge," Iella Wessiri said with a smile. She gave him a kiss, then disappeared into her apartment.
As he walked back to Rogue Squadron's barracks, he found himself smiling as he thought back over the evening's events. First, dinner with Iella at a very good Corellian restaurant, then a walk through the oro woods from Alderaan. They'd both enjoyed their time together that night.
He unlocked the front door, then stepped inside, the door automatically locking again when it shut. He was about to enter his room when he felt a chill wind blow through the window at the end of the hall. ~Storm must be brewing,~ he thought, and headed down the hall to shut the window.
About halfway there, he noticed a dark-clothed feminine figure crouched in the shadows by the door to Gavin Darklighter's quarters. He also noticed she had some sort of blaster-like weapon pointed directly at him.
"Don't move. Don't speak," she said. Her voice was scratchy, quiet and heavily accented. "Hends up." After he'd complied, she ran a hand down either side of his body, looking for comlinks and anything that could be used as a weapon. She came away with a holdout blaster and a vibro-shiv, which she tucked into the belt around her hips. "Now, out the window. Quietly." Once outside, she marched him down three blocks, turned left and stopped in a dead-end alley.
"Who are you?" Wedge asked his abductor.
"Thet es not enformation you need to know. I vill not hurt you es long es you obey orders. You are vorth nothing to me, injured or dead," she replied.
"Bounty hunter. That's what I thought. But who--"
"Silence." She waved her hand over a portion of wall that looked like solid duracrete. A panel slid aside and she directed Wedge into the room beyond. She pointed to a chair. "Sit." She surprised Wedge by not tying him down. Instead, she told him, "You move, I shoot," with enough authority that he believed her words. She then went to rummage through the contents of a large wooden chest.
She pulled out several piles of cloth, sorted through them, and put a couple back. She closed and locked the chest, got up, and picked up the piles of cloth. She dropped one armful on the small table next to Wedge's chair, then pointed him to a door.
"Put those on. You ken chenge en there. Eef you are not out en ten minutes, I vill come in to check on you. Eef you are not there, I vill hunt you down. Got et?"
"Yes. Um, is there some name I can call you by? I don't like not having a name to go with a face."
"Fine. You need a name for me? Call me Hope."
"Why Hope?"
"Enough questions. Get dressed."
He did. When he emerged from the room, which turned out to be a 'fresher, Hope was nowhere in sight. There was a small satchel on the floor, propped against one of the table legs. His first impulse was to look through it to see if there was something to help him escape. He pushed that thought away, figuring Hope had a surveillance cam hidden somewhere and was watching every move he made. He decided instead to sit down.
Just before he could, however, the duracrete panel slid open and a drenched and dripping Hope scrambled inside. Apparently the storm he'd felt brewing had broke. He hadn't heard anything
"My ship es scheduled to leave een en hour. Ve leave here een half thet time. Sleep eef you ken en thet time." She looked him up and down and said, "They feet good, no? They look good on you. I'm gled somebody vill get to use them."
"Why do you say that?"
"They belonged to my husbend. Before the Emperor hunted all the Jedi down."
"Your husband was a Jedi?"
"Not only Jedi Knight. Jedi Mester."
"Are you a Jedi?"
"A Jedi bounty hunter? No. I was my husbend's padawan, but I never got the chence to finish my trening before he died."
"Padawan?"
"Epprentice."
"Oh."
They sat in silence for a while, until Hope announced that it was time to leave. Wedge, who was just beginning to doze off, shook his head and yawned, then pulled himself to a standing position.
"Here. Clip this on your belt." She handed him a cylindrical object not unlike the handle of Luke Skywalker's lightsaber.
"Is it--"
"Real? Yes, but don't get eny ideas about escape. Pulling lightsabers out of hends is one Jedi technique I em very good et."
"You are very different from the bounty hunters I've met up with."
"Of course. I em better. You hev not likely met up with meny Force-trained bounty hunters before. There are not meny of us around."
"True enough. Is it still storming out there?"
Hope waved her hand over one of the tiles by the door panel, which slid open. A deafening crack of thunder exploded overhead. Hope pulled her hood up and motioned for Wedge to do the same.
"I guess that answers *that* question," he said under his breath.
They slipped out into the storm.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*