AN: Sorry for the brief Hiatus. The end of school was really rough. Anyway, please enjoy the new chapter. Have a great day everyone!

Chapter 6: Securing a Hunt

The cantina that served as the Guild's office was dark inside, in sharp contrast to the white furnishings. Smoke from several hookahs floated in the air, accompanied by the smell of alcohol and stale sweat. Jango wrinkled his nose. Which "patron" was the one they were looking for?

He scanned the area as he and Ben approached the bar. There was a Twi'lek lounging across a table. Green lekku down to their waist, covered head to toe in black leather. Across from them, a human male with dark eyes and skin watched them as they ordered their drinks and sat at the bar to wait. There were a few others scattered about.

Each of them looked bored until their eyes lit upon the pair. Then with the speed that all who grew old in this profession possessed, their focus sharpened and solidified. Each set of eyes held a dangerous curiosity as they sized up the pair of them.

"I have the strangest feeling they don't like us," Ben murmured too low for anyone else to hear.

"They're just sizing us up. It's probably not every day they get someone 'new' coming in here." He replied in the same low tone before raising his voice a little.

"Is there someone we need to talk to? Or are we just going to keep up the awkward eye contact?"

A figure stood from one of the darkened booths and waved the pair over. Jango started over immediately, a small smile gracing his lips. Ben grabbed her drink from the counter behind her and followed a half step behind. Her shoulders held tension as she observed the crowd's acute curiosity. Jango wasn't comfortable under their gazes either, but he did his best to keep it under wraps.

The man in the booth was powerfully built, dark-skinned, with a shock of white hair over sharp black eyes. Eyes that flicked over Ben as if calculating how to take her down if need be. Then he was under those intense eyes till they settled on his face. One white brow rose, and the man spoke, his voice booming over the cantina music.

"Jango Fett of House Mereel." and suddenly there was silence. Everyone in the cantina looked between the pair, bounty hunters, the musicians, even the bartender, some in disbelief, some in poorly disguised envy at the pronouncement.

There was a still moment where all held their breath. Till the man's voice rang out through the tense silence, "I heard you died on Galidraan, three years ago. It's good to see you kicking."

"Reports of my death were greatly exaggerated, Mr. Karga." His shoulders tensed as he walked forward. This wasn't the reception he'd expected, but it hadn't gone south just yet.

"Come now, I told you when you were thirteen to call me Greden."

"You'll have to ask me another time, Mr. Karga. I prefer my Buir's professionalism."

"Of course. Now introduce me to your companion, and I'll introduce you to mine." His hand swept to indicate a small boy, overlooked at first glance. He was seated beside Mr. Karga, half-hidden in the shadows and folds of the older man's navy cloak. The boy's hands tightened around a datapad, his eyes on the table in front of him.

"This is Ben. She's a good friend of mine." Jango replied. Ben nodded hello to the man.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Karga." Her tone was polite, but her eyes were reserved. She was sizing him up as much as he had her. Karga smiled back all easy charm before starting again.

"This is my grandson Greef. He's under my care for now. His mother, my daughter, died on a job a few months ago. The poor child saw everything, hasn't spoken since. I'm teaching him the trade as well as one can to a mute."

Ben frowned at that, and watched as her eyes went distant for a split second. Before they sharpened, determination writ across her brow, "I have some experience traumatized children. Selective mutism is often rooted in the anxiety the child's feeling. Once he feels secure, it may go away, but it doesn't always. Could I?"

She gestured to sit near Greef, and Jango felt his jaw drop. As soon as she focused on the little boy, all the tension went out of her shoulders. She seemed herself again, all smiles and easy posture, nothing like the tense shadow she'd been only moments before. Now she was soft and smiling down at the boy.

"Do anything to harm him, and you'll be cold before you hit the ground." Karga looked wary, but he hadn't moved to stop Ben yet.

"Fair enough." She slid herself around the booth's rounded bench until she was right next to the boy.

"Hello, Greef. I'm Ben. You don't have to say anything back to me, but I was wondering if you could show me what you were drawing?" The little boy's eyes had flicked back to the datapad in his hands. He shrugged and moved to hand it to her. A rough sketch of an orange tooka was on the screen. She smiled at the boy.

"I like that you colored it orange. It's one of my favorite colors. Could I draw a picture for you while my friend and your Grandfather talk business?" Little Greef sneaked a peek up at her, eyes wide before nodding a brief yes.

As the two settled down to draw, Ben glanced his way and smiled. He felt his throat catch at the sight of her with a small child, before he quickly refocused on Karga.

"Come sit with me, Jango. I have some pucks that might interest you." He turned to walk back toward the bar, keeping Ben and Greef in his line of sight at all times. Once he settled on a stool, he pulled out three pucks. Then he grinned at Jango.

"You look good, for a dead man, and that's a fine woman you have there." He tilted his head in the direction of the booth where Ben was steadily sketching away while the little boy looked on in awe.

"She's just a friend, and you don't have to lie. I know I could use a few more meals than I've had lately. That's why I'm here."

Karga sighed, "Right to the point then. You really are Jaster's son." Pointing to the first puck, he said, "Since it's been a while, I'll give you something easy to start out."

"Fine with me. I need credits if I'm going to get back on my feet."

"I've got a tax evader, a missing pet, and a runaway Princess. Normally I'd let you take them all, but the last time you were here was under your father's supervision. So, pick one to start, and I'll have more for you when you get back."

"The tax evader won't be an easy gig till I have my armor back." He paused to consider the two remaining pucks. Lips pursed as he thought through the likely scenarios. Decision made he glanced up at Mr. Karga.

"The pet is most likely dead. I'll take the Princess." Karga opened the puck, reading the info available.

"Princess Breha Antillies, age 18, brown hair, brown eyes, 70 inches tall. 160 lbs. She is the newly named Crown Princess of Alderaan, but she has yet to complete her rights of passage. This leaves the rule of succession in question till she returns to complete them. The eldest of the ruling Queen abdicated years ago, and the only other Antillies in the direct line is Jon Antillies, a first cousin of the Princess. He's a Jedi who was reported dead on Rattitak a few months ago. This is the third time he has 'died' though so.." Jango glared at him. He didn't have time for a kriffing side tangent, especially the one about a jetii.

"Ok, keep your shirt on. She was last seen boarding a shuttle headed for the Expansion region. This is one of two pucks. It was put out by her Mother, Queen Taya Antillies, the current head of the ruling House of Alderaan. She needs the Princess back alive and unharmed."

"So, track down and stun a core Princess and deliver her home. Seems easy enough."

"Don't say that till she's in the hold, Jango. You know the superstitions around calling it early." He stood up, passing the puck over. Jango put in his zip pouch before turning back towards Ben. He smiled, stooping level with the table.

"Ready to go," he inquired softly so as not to startle the child. Ben looked up from the pad before glancing back towards Greef. She smiled apologetically at the adiik (small child).

"Looks like it's time for me to go. Thank you for letting me draw for you." As she slid out of the booth, the little boy latched onto her sleeve, looking concerned at her attempt to leave. She stopped turning back for a moment.

"I'll be back in a few weeks, and we can draw again then. Do you promise to be good for your Grandfather in the meantime?" He nodded reluctantly, slowly letting go of her sleeve.

"Don't worry, Greef, my friend will take good care of me." Her eyes flicked to Jango, "He has so far." Jango felt his heart heat in his chest at her words. I always will, he promised himself.

When they exited the Cantina, Obi-wan breathed a little easier. Despite the Force's insistence that this was the right course of action, Obi-wan hadn't been comfortable from the moment the two of them had stepped through that door. She could still feel the crawling eyes and the gnawing hunger full of greed with simmering malice underlying it all. It had seemed to cling to the very air choking her with every breath. Helping little Greef was the only thing that made the trip bearable.

The small bright spots surrounding the little boy and the thoughts directed towards him were a balm. He reminded her so much of little Detra of the Daan. She couldn't have been older than six, with her small hands and solemn sunken brown eyes. She had never wavered from the horrors around them, but she never uttered a word until their victory. Even then, it was only one before she smiled and went quiet again, "Peace."

That smile convinced Obi-wan that she had made the right decision, and then Cerasi died, and then everything changed.

The silence in that little boy called to her the same way the Young had when they first asked Master Qui-gon for help. So, it was no small wonder that when she offered a little kindness, she and the boy had clung together. If only for a little while.

Walking Greef through the process of sketching out a face focusing on the boy's Grandfather as an example. She carefully explained the golden ratio, how to block out a figure on a datapad vs. flimsy, and when to add color. The little boy's attention was rapt as she quickly sketched out Jango and Mr. Karga during their meeting. Obi-wan only regretted that she didn't have time to add color before Jango had settled his business with Mr. Karga.

Settling into a leisurely pace at Jango's side, the two walked towards the ship rental on the other side of the city. The streets were carved out of the dark volcanic rock that characterized the planet's habitable surface. Despite some dashes of color, the stalls that lined the street looked grim. Though she supposed that it was pretty typical for the outer rim.

"We're going after a runaway Princess from Alderaan."

"What?" Obi-wan shook her head a little, coming out of her thoughts at Jango's voice.

"The puck is for a runaway Alderanian Princess."

"Breha?!"

"You've heard of her?"

"She was named as the Crown Princess elect when her cousin Jon passed his Jedi Knight trials. Until then, there was a slight chance that he would come home and take up the throne. So, he wasn't removed from the line of succession."

"Karga said he was dead." Obi-wan huffed a laugh.

"I think that makes his third time "dying."'' She added air quotes around the last word.

"What is with this jetii? You make him sound like a loth cat."

"I mean, he hasn't made it to nine times yet, so we'll have to wait and see." At that, Jango laughed.

"Well, I think this is at least once for me." Obi-wan pursed her lips, brow wrinkled.

"This makes three for me as well, now. Huh, never thought I'd match Jon." Jango looked so concerned at her comment. She felt her face heat and quickly changed the subject.

"So, what type of ship are you looking at renting?" Jango gave her the side-eye before starting in about how frustrated he was about being out of touch on the latest ships. She laughed as he got even more animated, only after she admitted that she didn't care about a ship's specifications. So long as it got her where she was going in one piece, she didn't care. She just laughed. Well, now she knew how to get him to drop something. Just ask him about ships or weapons specs.

They continued on like that all the way to the ship rent center. Jango went over what he remembered had been the latest before Galadraan and what he had hoped came out by now. While Obi-wan smiled at his enthusiasm and asked all the right questions. Really she was just happy to see him relax and talk about something he clearly liked.

The easy back and forth was broken when a high nasal voice called out to the pair.

"That man clearly knows his ships."

"I know quality ships when I see them. Are you the renter?" Jango's smile had tightened as he looked at the female Rodian.

"I am. Karga, send you?" She simpered, stepping closer. Obi-wan bristled and stepped in front of Jango.

"He did." She felt her ire rise, frowning at her before continuing with false sweetness. "We're looking for something small and fast that's safe enough to get from here to Alderaan and back." She looked over the junkers that lay scattered around the lot. Her eyes flicked back to the Rodian. "If you have them?" Obi-wan smiled.

The Rodian scowled. "Tough little thing isn't she." She said this over Obi-wan's head, ignoring the death glare aimed her way. She had a condescending little smile as she turned back to her, "Simmer down, little one, I have what you need. Though you may have to go mid-sized if you're on a budget."

She walked over to an old transport vessel. It had some carbon scoring on the sides, but it seemed solid at first glance. Walking through it, they were pleased. It had three berths and a small galley. The hold was sizable and fitted out with a carbon freeze. Overall, it could fit 6-10 in a pinch. It could be flown with two off autopilot. It had forward and aft cannons and solid shields. After the little tour, Jango asked to see the engine, and the Rodian looked askance. Jango's eyes narrowed.

"Let's see the next one," he demurred.

The next vessel was a couple of years older than the first model and a freighter. It was of a chunky design, but overall it would be serviceable. It had the same carbon scoring as the first and one less berth, but the galley was larger. It had a carbon freeze that took up more than a third of the hold's space. The vessel's saving grace was the increased firepower. Obi-wan felt that it would be worth the less space if they could protect themselves.

The only other available ships were corvettes and short-range vessels, with no hyperdrive to speak of. Jango looked over at Obi-wan, and they silently agreed to discuss it and come to a decision later. Most likely after they finished purchasing supplies.

He thanked the Rodian and said they would be back with their decision in a few hours and to hold the first two ships in the meantime. He pressed a few credits into her hand, and they two walked towards the market.

"Which of the two do think will work, my dear?" Obi-wan trusted Jango's choice when it came to ships more than her own. Her love of flying had long since become a think of the past. Too many near misses for it to be enjoyable anymore.

"I'd go with the second ship, the YT-1200. I know it has less space, but I think that in the long run, the more firepower we have, the better."

"You're not going to carbon freeze the Princess, are you?!" Obi-wan teased.

"Not unless she makes it necessary." He smiled at her before continuing to the first stall.

It sold freeze-dried rations of multiple flavors for two credits apiece. The near-human girl at the stall took one look at the two of them and slipped a few more rations into the bag. Obi-wan wanted to pay for them, but the girl insisted that they were on the house. Jango thanked the girl before tugging Obi-wan over to the next stall.

The old woman there sold fresh vegetables and eggs. The both of them were eager for something other than nutrient paste and quickly bought a load of fresh food, including two dozen fresh porg eggs.

After they were done there, they concluded that the bag wasn't going to be sufficient. So, the two made their way over to rent a small pull cart for their growing purchases. It was 25 credits for three hours minimum, just 5 credits less than buying their own cart.

The tired man who rented them looked bored and routinely stated they had the cart for three hours, and if they were late, it was another credit each minute they were late. Jango wanted to argue the price down till Obi-wan pointed out that they could just buy their own cart. Jango huffed and said they were buying enough stuff as it was. He forked over the credits. Then helped Obi-wan load their purchases into the cart. When she went to pull the cart, he rolled his eyes and grabbed the other side of the cart to help her pull it. Then they headed back towards the stalls.

The Jawas that ran their own stall were more interested in trading than credits. In exchange for three of the knives Captain Dola gave them, they purchased an emergency health kit, bacta patches, and a set of tools. They got a sewing kit, several blankets, and water purification tabs in exchange for the two ration packs and some of their eggs. Jango looked longingly at a couple of Westar pistols the Jawas had, but he moved on to the next stall.

She shifted from foot to foot before she made up her mind. Obi-wan offered the blaster she had been given for the pistols. The Jawas refused. She countered with the rest of the eggs and the blaster. The Jawas accepted with little squeals as they each took an egg. Obi-wan hid the blasters in the thigh holsters under her skirt before hurrying to catch up with Jango.

He was arguing with a shop owner who sold blaster ammo. She laid a hand on his arm when she was close enough.

"Hey, what's going on?"

"This dikut (idiot) is trying to tell me that the price of blaster bolts has somehow gone up forty percent in four years."

"It has been going up since OffWorld went under about a year ago."

"What caused that," he asked with a frown.

Her face went blank, and she could picture Xanatos again. The cruel glint in his eyes as she and Master Jinn were condemned to death in an energy cage, and his screams as he threw himself into the acid pool. She shuttered and took a breath.

"Their owner, Xanatos Du Crion died, and the company fell apart when his many criminal activities were revealed. One of his cousins is still fighting the defamation case. He refused to believe it. Anyway, OffWorld provided the durasteel and other raw materials used in the production of the metal casings for blaster bolts. No other company has been able to make up the hole in the market they left behind just yet."

"You'd think that they would have sold off the company piecemeal."

"Everything is frozen until the court cases are finished. That's Republic law."

"Well, the Republic makes things harder than they need to be." He stated this so matter of factly that she couldn't help but laugh before replying.

"The drawbacks of democracy, everyone has to have their voice heard before anything can get done. Now, are you going to pay the man?"

He scowled before handing over the credits, muttering, "It's still too much for too little." He forked over the credits with a sour look, that made her turn her face away and grin for a moment.

"Thank you, Jango. What else is left on the list?"

It took them another two hours to hunt down the rest of their needed supplies, but in the end, both were satisfied with everything purchased. The two walked back to the rental place where Jango went to meet with the Rodian.

They had their final discussion on which ship to pick and settled for the YT-1200, they hadn't had any YT-1100s left. While it wasn't as fast as the new YT-1300 and had one less berth than the YT-1100, it would do.

Jango then helped her unload all of the supplies into the cargo hold before heading to return the cart. Obi-wan opted to stay back and organize the supplies.

She moved the food to the galley, divided their clothes into the two berths, along with the extra blankets. Then she moved on to the emergency supplies. The sewing kit and emergency aid kit to the galley. The bacta patches to the cockpit, and so on. She had sunk into an almost moving meditation by the time Jango had returned. She had almost missed him returning.

She quickly ran to his berth and placed the pistols on his bunk, where he couldn't miss them. Then she sprinted back to the galley to start dinner. She had laid out the ingredients earlier, having decided on a pasta dish. The natives swore it was delicious, with a sweet cream sauce to go over it and the vegetables. When Jango entered, he asked where he could help, and she set him to work chopping the vegetables. She continued to work on the cream sauce as the water boiled.

As the two fell into an easy silence, she was struck by how simple and domestic a scene they made. She wondered how many nights like this they had ahead of them. She slowly stirred spices into the sauce, thinking about it for a moment.

The knowledge that it wouldn't always be so simple weighed on her, and she felt a longing for what force nulls often took for granted. The ability to have relationships unencumbered by Senate responsibilities, and distance all the time. She mused it was why so many people thought Jedi could not love. Yes, Jedi didn't marry, but love was something all sentients could feel.

Jango tapped her shoulder, and she turned towards him. "Do you need anything else done?"

"Could you check on the pasta noodles, and if they're done, could you strain them? The strainer is in the sink."

She took the vegetables from him added them to the steam basket, and shut the pot's lid. She turned around to get plates out when she caught sight of the table. It was already set. She smiled and shut the cabinet where she had stored their plates. She must have been deeper in her thoughts than she had believed. He gestured towards the table.

"Come on, Ben. It's been a long day, and we have the spot we're parked in till tomorrow at 0800. We can relax for now. The food still needs a minute or two."

"Ok," she sighed, and they sat at the table in comfortable silence for a moment, just watching the timer count down till everything was ready. When the timer went off, they both stood plates in hand and walked over to dish out the food, shoulders gently brushing.

Obi-wan found herself very aware of his proximity as she spooned sauce onto her pasta. So, when they both reached for the vegetable spoon, hands brushing for a brief moment, she couldn't help but blush, looking up to meet his eyes. Before stammering, "You go ahead."

"Thank you" Jango's voice is low as he spoons the vegetables on his plate first and then hers. The smile they share is hesitant and new. She feels butterflies start up as she turns towards the table.

As they ate, she couldn't help but sneak glances at Jango. When they part for the night, she can't help but be left wondering what's going on in his head, and most importantly if he'll like her gift. She hopes he does. She really hopes he does.

AN:

Mando'a Tranlations:

Jetii
Jedi

Adiik
Small child age 3-13

dikut
idot