DISCLAIMER: Star Wars (although I fervently wish otherwise) is not mine. Neither is (although it would be awesome beyond belief) Boba Fett. Nor are any of the other characters in this story, not even the one's I made up. If Lucasfilm wants 'em, they can have 'em, with my blessings and cheers! (Besides, the girl's pretty annoying. At least if you're a bounty hunter.) This book ties in around and between (and upside down and alongside and inside out and counter clockwise and…shutting up) the Bounty Hunter Wars Trilogy: The Mandalorian Armor (excellent book, best of them), Slave Ship, and Hard Merchandise. However, you'll more than get it even if you haven't read those. And I don't think it gives much if anything away that happened then, so if you plan to read them, this shouldn't spoil it.

If you have not yet read Book One: Points of Dispute, which is at I suggest you do so prior to reading this, otherwise it will be exceptionally confusing and likely impossible to understand. Of course, considering I have yet to actually explain the connections between most of the important things going on, understanding really won't occur too much in this segment, either. I'm afraid you'll have to wait for the next part for that… Enjoy.

STAR WARS

The Saga of the Rapier's Blade:
"The Fencer's Misstep" (book 2)

Chapter I:
Now, fourteen years after Return of the Jedi…

A woman walked through an alley. It was a crummy, dirty alley, one of ill repute. Not the type of spot human woman usually walked alone, and certainly not without some serious firepower, much more serious than the small blaster holstered at her hip and the even tinier hold-out piston securely hidden in her sleeve. And even when they did, it was only the most brave—or perhaps foolhardy would be a better word—who went where this woman was going.

The woman wasn't worried. She casually opened the scorched, laser-stained durasteel door and stepped into the noisy, dark interior, not bothering to blink or sneeze at the noxious fumes lying thick and heavy in the smoke-ladded air. Coolly, the unruffled woman scanned the cantina's interior. Although the inhabitants were very good at it, she still had no trouble noticing their surreptitious glances and sizing-up of herself. Apparently, she either passed, or was below their notice. Either way, it mattered little to her so long as her work got done. The woman's cold blue eyes noticed the character she'd come to meet and continued her glance around the cantina as if she hadn't seen him. Casually, she sauntered over to a shadowy booth in a dark corner. She noticed the other still drinking by the bar as if he hadn't even noticed her enter. Good, she thought calculatingly, he acts like he's been around the galaxy a few times. Much better than that last creature I met. Had she been given to expressing emotions in places like this, and around people like this, she might have shuddered in remembrance.

Suddenly, she found herself no longer alone at the booth. She raised an eyebrow and regarded the new arrival, unperturbed and unintimidated. He leered at her across the table, revealing blackened teeth and a nose that had to have been broken more times than not.

"Hey, honey," he began, "you look lonesome."

"I'm not interested. I suggest you leave before I have to hurt you." She didn't bother to look at him.

"Oh, really, now? Why, honey, that ain't too hospitable. Dontcha wanna be a little nicer to me? I'm a real nice guy, trust me. A real nice guy, honey."

"I'm not. Leave. Now. You annoy me." She didn't bother to look at him as he started to slide across the booth towards her. "If you put your arm around me, I can assure you, you will live to regret it. Maybe. If I'm in a good mood."

"Good, I like 'em feisty," he lifted his arm to snug it around her shoulders.

Suddenly, in a blur of motion so fast that the security holocams couldn't have filmed it even if they'd still been functional, the man found himself lying half-conscious on the floor, moaning like a baby. The woman flicked her straight blond hair behind her ear, appearing as composed as if nothing had happened. She hadn't even moved from her seat; or if she had, it had been in that too-fast to be possible blur of motion where she'd wrenched his arm methodically from his socket, broken his nose, and tossed him to the floor in a heap.

And all without knocking her hair out of place.

The staring members of the cantina carefully and obviously turned away and busied themselves with their own business. They studiously ignored this dangerous woman and concentrated on their own affairs. Good, they were the smart type of cantina denizen. On Tatooine, the smart ones would have done the same. However, there were rarely a lot of smart people hanging out at the Mos Eisley Cantina and others of its ilk. There were myriads of worlds where that move would have gotten her more attention than it would have been worth, despite giving anyone else who'd had a similar idea very good reason to think of a different pursuit; one that didn't involve her.

After the cantina's members' attention was definitely elsewhere, another shape slid into the booth opposite her.

"Guri," he began, but she cut him off.

"No names, don't use names." Her voice was a carefully modulated whisper, one that he could barely hear, pitched high enough that it wouldn't carry; pitched high enough, in fact, that most species of human-size and larger creatures would be hard-pressed to hear it let alone produce it.

"Sorry." The other being grimaced, "I'm a little out of practice. After you-know-who went kablooie…" he caught the look in her eyes and paused a moment. "And then what with the New Republic taking over and all, well…"

"Get in practice. Five minutes ago."

"Uh…uh…yeah…right. Ma'am."

She glared at him. "Now. I assume the only reason that you even knew of this meeting, the only reason that you're even here, is that your intelligence resources are intact."

"Almost as good as they were before…uhm…" he hesitated, remembering her earlier reaction, "er, before the, uhm, yeah, uh, uh, yes, with, uhm, Black Sun, yeah." He jittered, nervously sweating.

"Good. I want to talk to Kuat of Kuat."

"He's dead—"

"So am I. I mean the new head of Kuat Drive Yards. You know who it is and so do I. However, there are others who do not." She gave him a suggestive look.

"Gotcha. Don't worry about it. I'll see what I can do. It's tough, you know, getting a dead woman who ain't even ever been actually real a chance to talk with such an important corporation head—"

"Do it. Quickly. I don't care if it's legal; better if it's not, but as I said, I don't care. But I am going to talk to Kuat of Kuat.

"For your sake, it had better be soon."

……………………

A woman sat in her office. It was a much better place, much fancier and more ornate. It was also much more sanitary, and the woman was in the process of doing something much more legal.

Kateel of Kuat twiddled her fingers as she spun slowly about in the wheeled chair. Black Sun's usurpers hadn't gotten the manufactured evidence to use against the Xixor loyalists and Boba Fett wasn't dead. So, Fett had tricked her. Big surprise there. The bounty hunter was as devious as a Kuat noble. And twice as good at what he did—in fact, he could probably beat a Bothan, Kateel thought wryly, at its own game. And now, this face out of forgotten memory made her recall those events. Despite all the things that Kateel had remembered, some of her past life had been erased beyond repair. If she could remember how she knew that blond woman, she would know better how to deal with her. As it was, she was behind the learning curve.

The woman's offer had tempted her, and her threat had unnerved her. However, she wasn't about to let the other know that. The chance to eliminate one of the three still-living creatures who had known and understood what was going on during her darkest hour, who could hurt her with that knowledge, and the most dangerous one of them, was appealing. And the warning about the other hunter left Kateel uneasy. The woman hadn't told her exactly who would be coming after her, but she'd left no room for doubt. "You may soon find yourself hounded by a certain Biituian fen-hare," the other had said.

Kateel knew she was talking about Bossk. After being scared off of his own ship, the Hound's Tooth, by Fett when she was in his company, she knew Bossk would be happy to kill her. Of course, if the woman told Bossk that Kateel had saved Boba Fett's life on Tatooine after he'd managed to blow himself out of the Sarlacc, the Trandoshan hunter would probably kill her for free, and happily. Bossk wasn't known for his control of his emotions the way Fett was. In fact, the Trandoshan was known for anything but. Like all members of his species, he had a horrible temper. He also had even less control than most of the rest of his species did. While she knew that he wasn't nearly her equal in intelligence or cunning, Bossk was a determined creature. He also held a grudge, and had made a career of stealing other sentient creatures away from where they wanted to be and taking them to where he could exchange them for credits. If he ever learned the woman's information, Kateel knew, he would never stop coming after her until one of them was dead. And unlike Boba Fett, Kateel did not have such faith in her own abilities of violence to believe that she could stop him easily should they meet.

Kateel shook her head. Now wasn't the time to think of things like that. Now she had to be logical, precise, calculating. It had been both easier and harder to be emotionless when she'd had her memory wiped. Then, she hadn't know anything about how to survive out in the galaxy, hadn't known anything she'd known before, had almost no information to calculate with. However, it was easier to be dispassionate about a life she didn't remember having lived than it was about a life that she had just reclaimed from the agony of ignorance. Suddenly, her comm beeped. She frowned. She had told her employees not to disturb her. If there was an emergency, even, they were supposed to come get her personally, not call her by comm. Ready to shoot off an angry retort, Kateel turned on the comm. Before she could say a word, however, another voice spoke.

"Neelah," it said, levelly, her own emotional reaction making it seem all the more detached. She gasped and sank into the chair. Neelah. It unlocked memories that she would rather not deal with now. After her memory had been brutally stripped by her own sister, Kodir, Kateel had been found nearly dead—dying—by Boba Fett aboard another bounty hunter, Ree Duptom's, ship. Thinking she was worth a lot, Fett had dumped her in Jabba's palace, where he could keep her alive without her—or anyone else—being aware of it. After that, after Jabba had been killed, Kateel—or Neelah, as she was known then—had been on her own, but alive. She had found the injured—dying actually—Boba Fett on the sands where he'd managed to explode out form the Sarlacc. She and Dengar, another bounty hunter, had nursed the nearly dead Fett back to health. Not for any altruistic means, mind you—Neelah knew he was a key to her past, and Dengar hoped to come out of it rich enough to quit bounty hunting. However, Dengar and Neelah both had nearly lost their life in the ensuing fiasco from Boba Fett's past. In the end, Neelah had managed to reclaim her memory, her name, gain a life back, and take control of Kuat Drive Yards. Dengar had escaped with his skin, she thought—she had paid him less than attentive interest after they parted company.

Boba Fett, however, was another story. The bounty hunter had somehow walked back out of the situation completely unharmed—in better shape, in fact, than he'd walked into it, having had more time to heal from the Sarlacc's long-lasting wounds. The only ones who had known her both as Neelah and later as Kateel were Boba Fett, Kodir of Kuhlvult, Dengar, and perhaps the Assembler, Balancesheet. Kodir was dead, and Dengar wasn't in the game or anything to be worried about. The Assembler could have figured out her name and heard where she was now, but the voice didn't have the tearing-sheet-metal quality to it that distinguished Balancesheet's.

Kateel breathed slowly in and out, forcing her pounding heart back under control. She even managed to unclench the nails of her right hand from her palm, little red marks showing where they has dug in sharply in her sudden shock.

"Fett," Kateel replied, her voice and expression an ugly mix somewhere between surprise, horror, and hatred.

She thought she detected a slightly amused quality in the bounty hunter's response, "glad you remember me."

"Remember," Kateel spat. "That isn't funny." Fett made no apology. "What do you want," she asked bitterly, "a trophy? As I recall, you had the chance to be a 'hero' before and turned it down over lack of 'monetary incitement' to go along with the name. Change your mind?"

"I know," he spoke quietly, coldly. The blood stilled for a moment in Kateel's veins.

"Know what?" she asked innocently. "You, apparently, know lots of things. Why don't you be more specific, Fett."

"Don't play games. You follow me."

A corner of Kateel's mouth twisted into a grimace. "I'll start applauding your brilliant powers of deduction when I think you're earned some of it. What do you want?"

"I'm warning you. Don't try and take her up on her offer. Bossk is nothing compared to me as you are well aware of." Kateel made a face, remembering all too well how Fett had manipulated Bossk both when she was with him and long before they'd met.

"Last I recall, he managed to talk you out of a whole chunk of credits, not to mention almost get you killed by Xixor with that thermal detonator of his."

Fett made no reply to the insult. He didn't need to; they both knew that he could take on and walk all over Bossk any day that he wanted to. The credits had just been a time saver; interrogation takes time. Kateel growled low in her throat.

"You don't scare me, bounty hunter." She glowered at the comm, "if you'll recall, I picked a blaster out of your belt and held it on you."

"Many creatures have pointed blasters at me. Some of them are still living. Some of those still resemble their former state. Some of those didn't even go through extensive surgery."

"You know what I'm talking about," she forced out past her thickening throat and anger.

"Do you?" Fett's reply was as fierce and emotionless as ever.

"Don't play with me, bounty hunter. Say what you want."

Fett replied calmly as ever, "you heard. You've also been warned. I suggest you listen to it. Besides , you owe me."

"I don't owe you anything, you misbegotten—I saved your life. That should pay off any debts, Fett, including saving me and dragging me along on your little quest for credits—"

"I have already spent too much time fencing with you. Either do as I say, or be prepared to face the consequences."

"Fett—!" she began, but he disconnected the comm. Seething, Kateel settled back in the chair and fumed.

And remembered…