Hunter stood at the edge of the landing platform and gazed out over Hutta Town. All natural light had vanished by now, but large portions of the multi-layered city glowed an odd, dark blue, broken here and there by neon signs which flashed orange, pink, green or yellow.

Dropping to one knee, Hunter shut his eyes. The constant buzz in his mind was only noticeable when he concentrated on it, and it couldn't tell him much at the moment. He and the others were surrounded by millions of frequencies, but then, they'd already known that. Nothing useful there.

General Vos had gone to scout out one of the bigger marketplaces, hoping to pick up some information that would allow Bad Batch to move in on Grakkus. He'd been gone for a couple of hours, and should be returning soon.

Tech had sliced into the air control tower and scanned through hundreds of recorded ship-to-tower transmissions. He'd located one between an agent of Grakkus and Cad Bane, who had arrived to collect payment for something involving a Hutt named Ziro.

That part wasn't important, but the meeting place Grakkus had set might be, so Wrecker and Crosshair had gone off to investigate it while Hunter stayed with the ship.

A faint footstep sounded behind him. Hunter didn't need to hear it to know that it was Tech. The number of electronic devices he carried spoke for him.

"Tech. What've you got?"

Tech sat down beside him and dangled his legs over the platform's edge. "I will need to get inside Grakkus the Hutt's palace before I can access his transaction records."

"His security's too high?"

"Not exactly. I accessed his holonet-capable devices easily enough, but his records do not seem to be stored on any of them. It is possible that there is a second layer of hidden security protecting the records, but I'd have to risk detection." He poised his fingers over his datapad. "Shall I?"

"No, let's hold off on that for the moment."

They spent a few moments in relative silence before a random thought struck Hunter, and he pressed the comm on the side of his helmet. "Crosshair, can you see us?"

There was a faint click, and the sniper replied. "Tech is sitting directly above a speederbike."

"Hm. No kidding." Hunter dropped flat on his stomach, slid a knee over the edge, and clutched at the platform with one hand so that he could lean far out. There was, indeed, a speeder balanced precariously on the ledge. "Wonder who put that there?"

"What it!" Wrecker cut in, sounding alarmed. "You're gonna fall!"

"Don't worry, Wrecker." Hunter sat up again. If Crosshair could see the speeder, which was half-hidden on either side by support pillars . . . He focused on a towering building a kilometer away. It was either that one, or the even taller one some three miles away. "Are you using your rifle?"

"No," Crosshair replied scornfully.

The closer building, then. Hunter stood, automatically calculating angles. The platform would hide the speeder if Crosshair were any higher than . . . He lifted his own blaster and pointed it at the second-to-highest floor. "Use your scope. Check my aim."

There was an instant of silence. "If you fired, you'd hit the ceiling on the far left of this room," the sniper answered. "Why?"

Hunter put his gun away. "Just killing time. You guys finished over there?"

"Yeah," said Wrecker. "Nothing, just like you thought. Boring!"

"The lift access records indicate no one's entered this floor in nearly three standard weeks," added Crosshair.

"Well, it was worth checking out," Hunter told him. "Come on, get back here. We'll try somewhere else next."

Bracing a hand against the duracrete, Tech hopped up. "I'd like to see if I can get that speeder started."

"Yeah, how about you don't?" Hunter turned back to the Havoc Marauder. "Wonder when he'll be back."

"By 'he', I presume you mean Quinlan Vos."

"Who else?" Hunter switched comm frequencies. "Vos, you there?"

The Jedi's voice sounded bored when he replied. "Y'know, I don't get it. If capturing and selling people is legal, why do the Hutts go to so much trouble to hide their prisons?"

Hunter wandered back toward the ship. "So no one can rescue the prisoners."

"Ugh, you're probably right." The comm crackled with a loud sigh. "Anyway. I've finished up this area of the market. No luck. The other guys find anything?"

"No. We'll need to get into the Hutt's palace."

"Make your plans. I'll join you shortly."

Without waiting for an acknowledgement, Vos cut communications.

Tech, too busy typing to walk, stayed outside. Hunter switched back to his squad's channel, entered the ship, and moved to the cockpit to pull up the palace schematics.

As far as the building itself was concerned, the setup was pretty straightforward. It wouldn't be hard to get in and find a terminal. Getting in and finding a terminal without being caught, though – that was another matter entirely. From what Tech's programs were telling him, this palace was under some pretty high security. At the same time, though, there weren't many occupants, which probably meant that sneaking in and out was a definite option, as long as they didn't set off any traps.

The sergeant was studying a picture of the plaza near the palace when a sudden, quiet commotion on the landing platform indicated his teammates' return. Tech entered the cockpit first, tapping away and ignoring the shoving contest going on behind him.

Then Crosshair got flattened against the wall by Wrecker's arm, which apparently settled the fight for the moment, because Wrecker gave a loud laugh and stumped over to join Hunter and Tech. Crosshair followed a moment later, and all three gathered around Hunter, who stared patiently at them.

Before he could speak, Wrecker pointed at a flashing indicator on the radar. "Hey, Vos is back."

The blinking green dot hovered high above the landing platform diagram. It had just begun to descend when the cockpit door hissed open. All four commandos whipped around to face it, weapons raised.

Quinlan Vos stopped short, raising his hands. "Whoa, what the heck."

Hunter lowered his gun. "Your ship is still in the air."

"Yeah. And. . .?"

Crosshair sighed impatiently. "Why is it still in the air?"

"Oh. I hit the automated landing sequence and jumped out. Saves time." He rubbed his nose thoughtfully and folded his arms. "So, what'd you guys find out?"

Hunter turned back to the radar. The ship had still been a good twenty meters in the air when Vos entered the room. The sergeant sent a narrow-eyed look at Tech, who had a faint smirk on his face.

"Don't get any ideas," Hunter said in a low voice.

Tech sniffed, as if getting ideas was somehow beneath him. Bad Batch's youngest member would never admit that his landings were insanely dangerous and highly illegal in every system, no matter how many times the other members of the squad were sent flying by his sudden cuts in speed.

Back when Cody had met the Bad Batch, he'd assumed that Tech was the least insane member of the squad. It was the most wrong Hunter had ever known Cody to be.

Turning back to the business at hand, Hunter flicked on the holotable. "We've got the diagnostics for Grakkus' palace. It looks like he doesn't currently have a lot of guards, but he's got a high number of traps, which is a problem –"

"Why?" Quinlan Vos twisted his mouth to one side. "Thought you guys said you were highly successful."

"Always successful," Tech said.

Wrecker cracked his knuckles, giving the Jedi a threatening look, and Crosshair's eyes narrowed darkly.

"Which is a problem," Hunter repeated, "because we'll most likely be alerting everyone to our presence if we go in the easy way."

"Yeah, but we want that," Quinlan said.

"We don't want that," argued Tech. "At least, not right away."

The Jedi raised an eyebrow. "The whole point is to get you noticed by Vythia."

"Yes," Tech replied. "But you were the one who told us to concentrate on the immoral rather than the illegal, and attacking Grakkus openly would definitely fall under the latter. We might also need to get inside the palace more than once, and having him increase his security as a result of our first infiltration would be counterproductive."

"Right . . . Yeah, you've got a point. So what are you going there for, then?"

Tech straightened his goggles. "We are merely going in to collect information on Grakkus' various transactions. We will then use that information to cause enough trouble that Vythia will notice us."

"Gotcha. I could always hang around and keep any guards or droids busy while you get the intel."

Hunter rested one hand on his waist and pointed at the hologram. "This is a simple data retrieval mission: in and out. Besides, we can't risk your being seen."

The Jedi Knight looked mildly insulted. "I wouldn't be seen, but if you think you'll do fine on your own, great. How soon can you get started?"

"Now." Hunter drew his vibroblade from his vambrace and powered it up briefly to check that all was in order. "We're going to land on the roof and go in that way. Looks like there's a one-man lift in the center."

"Yeah, there is. Works, too," said Quinlan.

Hunter wasn't quite sure what to make of the Jedi. Vos made suggestions that seemed unsound, but he was supposed to be an incredibly skilled investigator. He argued points that hadn't even been made, and then quickly switched to agreeing. He followed suggestions without calling on his authority as a general. In short, he acted like no other superior officer Hunter had ever seen – Vos didn't even seem to realize his rank was a lot higher than the sergeant's.

In fact, he seemed pretty willing to let the Bad Batch do as they wanted. This was appreciated . . . and concerning.

But there wasn't anything Hunter could do about that, so he gave up on figuring out Quinlan Vos for the moment. "We'll get going. Want to join us for the ride?"

"I'm going to get my ship serviced, actually," Quinlan said. "That way any spies will see me busily and innocently occupied while you guys are getting into trouble. You know, added insurance so Vythia doesn't make the connection between us. It'll also give me an opportunity to figure out how she's keeping an eye on me, because I'm sure she is . . . Probably nothing more advanced than tracking devices, but still."

So he could think like a secret forces operator. Hunter filed this information away for later consideration, wondering why Vos hadn't told them his plan in the first place. Maybe he'd thought they'd need his help . . .?

As the Jedi left the cockpit, Hunter turned back to business. "Bad Batch! Move out."

Crosshair took the co-pilot's seat, and Tech the pilot's seat. Once Quinlan had taken off, Hunter tapped Tech on the head and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Out, Tech. I'm flying this round so we don't get arrested by traffic control."

Tech rolled his eyes and complied. "So we don't get arrested by the non-existent traffic control, you mean."

"Yeah." Hunter initiated the take-off sequence before turning to glance at his squad mates. "Okay, listen up. We don't want to be caught by Grakkus. In and out, quietly. I mean it, Wrecker."

Wrecker groaned. "Why do we always get boring missions?"

"Because," said Tech.

Hunter waited, but no further explanation was forthcoming. Apparently Tech thought that 'because' was a complete answer. With a mental shrug, Hunter continued. "We want information on Grakkus' income and any other places he might own. Tech, you're in charge of getting it. Wrecker, you cover him. Crosshair and I will do a little recon of our own."

The sniper looked morosely pleased.

A few seconds later, when the palace came into view, Hunter cut speed and brought the ship one traffic level down. "Closing in. Everyone clear for entry?"

"Yep, Sarge." Tech put away his datapad. "Ready and waiting."

Hunter landed gently on the roof and put the ship on standby.

"Landing in plain view?" Crosshair eyed him. "I thought you said we didn't want to be noticed."

"Engine trouble," Hunter said. "You guys stay out of sight for a minute."

He set his helmet on the consol, left the ship, opened an access panel, and was busily fiddling with some wires when a lavender Twi'lek girl approached.

He turned to face her, one hand on his pistol and the other half-raised, the very picture of a nervous and unlucky bounty hunter. "Hey. . ."

She blinked large eyes, hands clasped in front of her. "The most wise Grakkus demands to know what you are doing here."

"I had to make a forced landing," he explained. "I was hoping he wouldn't notice before I could leave."

"He will want to speak with you," she said.

"Look, tell Grakkus I'm really sorry." Hunter gestured at the wires, which were now sparking terribly thanks to a well-placed power surge. Tech was going to kill him. "I'll get out of here as soon as I can fix the problem."

"He wants to speak with you and your crew," she said.

"I don't have a crew. . ." He had a team. And Tech had a way of fooling scanners into thinking that there were no life signs on board. "Look, this won't take me long – I can do a patch job in a couple of minutes."

"Grakkus wishes to speak with you."

This girl doesn't say much, does she? Hunter rubbed nervously at his head. "Is that really necessary?"

"You must accompany me."

Hunter gave a reluctant nod. "Okay, okay. . . Just – he won't impound my ship or anything, will he?"

The Twi'lek gave no comment, but led him to the one-man lift and gestured for him to get on it.

After checking that the secure channel to his team was open, Hunter stepped onto the lift, which slowly descended into a dark room.

An assassin droid met him, and Hunter had to resist the impulse to draw and throw his knife at it. One level of its segmented head swiveled to observe him. "Please place your weapons on this shelf."

"I suppose that was our cue," Crosshair muttered, his voice audible to Hunter despite the extremely low volume of the hidden comm he carried.

"Sure," Hunter said to the droid and to Crosshair. He set his pistol and vibroblade on the shelf, which had a built-in scanner. "Now what?"

"Come with me." The droid walked down a hall, joints squeaking. Hunter followed, listening to the quiet updates from his team. The female Twi'lek had left the roof, Wrecker had gotten in, Crosshair and Tech were in.

"Want us to grab your weapons?" Wrecker checked.

Hunter reached idly up to adjust his sweatband, simultaneously pressing the hidden transmitter twice for 'negative'. Then the door ahead of him slid open, and he got his first glimpse of Grakkus the Hutt.

"Ah, another human," the huge alien said. "You are the second today." He moved closer on clinking cybernetic legs.

Hunter blinked. That is seriously weird.

"Your ship has engine trouble?" Grakkus asked. "Unfortunate that you are traveling alone. . . isn't it?"

"It won't take me long to fix," Hunter insisted. "And, uh, how do you know I'm traveling alone?"

"You are naïve if you think that I would believe your story without checking." The Hutt settled his bulk across a wide platform and studied him thoughtfully.

"Hm," commented Tech. "He is naïve if he thinks his outdated scanners can compete with my programming."

"Uh, yeah, I suppose." Hunter rested his weight on one foot and tapped his fingers against his vambraces. "What do you want with me?"

"There is an airfield only a few minutes away," Grakkus said slowly. "Why did you not land there?"

"I didn't want to risk flying that far."

"We found a terminal," Crosshair said. "Where should I meet you?"

Hunter held up both hands. "I don't want to bother you, Grakkus. Can I just collect my weapons and leave?"

"On my way to the lift," acknowledged Crosshair.

"No." Grakkus gestured to the assassin droid, who turned to face Hunter. "Make sure that this human has no hidden weapons or devices."

Hunter rubbed his head again, cutting off communications with his squad just as the whirring of a scanner started.

A moment later, the droid turned back. "His weapons were unusual, but he has nothing else."

"Good." Grakkus moved forward. "You are a bounty hunter."

"Yeah . . ." Hunter didn't have to try hard to fake unease now. Grakkus was looking as though he'd just won the sweepstakes.

"You would not be working for a Serennian known as the Prince, would you?"

"Who's the Prince?" Hunter shook his head. "Look, all I want to do is get my ship repaired and find some work."

"And the Prince is offering work." Grakkus narrowed his yellow eyes. "So am I, to the right people. Someone is investigating the Prince right now."

"Okay . . .?"

Grakkus stood slowly. "I do not trust this person to tell me when he has infiltrated the Prince's headquarters."

Hunter considered. "So – you want me to keep an eye on him?"

"I want you to find a way to work with him. As soon as he has evidence that can convict the Prince, report to me. You will be well paid."

"Sounds simple enough." Hunter narrowed his eyes. "So what's the catch? Why hire someone you know nothing about?"

The assassin droid swiveled to face him and recited, "Your ship matches nothing in the database here at the palace of Grakkus the Wise. You are unfamiliar in this sector of space, and will therefore be unfamiliar to the Prince, as well as to the investigator who has already been hired."

Hm, sounded like the droid was the one who thought up plans for Grakkus. Not entirely surprising.

"Okay." Hunter turned back to Grakkus. "Again, what's the catch?"

"The investigator might be someone you are unwilling to work with," said the Hutt, and a satisfied smirk crossed his wide face. "But if you wish to leave my palace, you must agree to my terms."

"Looks like I don't have much choice . . ." Hunter thought it was probably better not to mention that he could twist the droid's weapon away and shoot it, and Grakkus, with two easy movements. "Fine. What's the deal?"

"There is a Kiffar Jedi somewhere on this moon," Grakkus said. His eyes widened in pleasure at Hunter's shocked expression. "Unusual, isn't it?"

"A – Jedi?" Hunter repeated blankly. "But –"

"His name is Quinlan Vos," Grakkus said. "He is investigating the Prince. I will give you the coordinates that I gave to him, and you will tell him that I have sent you to help."

"A Jedi's the last person I want to tangle with right now," Hunter said, starting to overcome his surprise.

"Yes." Grakkus' wide face became complacent. "But your only other option is to be brought down to my dungeon. I have some employees who would love to practice their interrogation skills."

The sergeant stared at him, then nodded slowly. "So – all I've got to do is help him out until he's ready to move in on the Prince, and then let you know?"

"Correct." Grakkus waved an arm at the droid. "Give him back his weapons and let him return to his ship."

Hunter was surprised that Grakkus hadn't even asked his name. Maybe the Hutt depended on his fearful reputation to keep any hirelings in line.

"Just like that?" he asked. "What if, uh, I decide to just leave Nar Shaddaa?"

"I will put a bounty on your head. Your ship is now in my database."

Oh. "Right. . . Yeah, okay. I'll get in touch with this Vos."

"You had better." Grakkus turned away, and Hunter followed the droid back to the lift, his mind spinning at the strange turn of events.

This was going to be a problem.

He picked up his weapons and stepped onto the lift, and the droid activated it before clanking away. The minute it was out of sight, Hunter swung down, hung by his fingers from the edge of the slowly rising lift, and dropped quietly to the ground.

Crosshair materialized beside him. "What was that all about?"

"Uhh . . ." Hunter considered, then shrugged. "Let's just say this mission just got a lot more complicated." He turned his transmitter back on. "Grakkus hired me to keep an eye on Quinlan Vos."

"What?!" yelled Wrecker.

Hunter flinched.

"This is gonna be a disaster!"

"Keep quiet!" hissed Crosshair.

Wrecker subsided into grumbling. "How're we supposed to do that?"

"Wrecker," Tech interrupted. "I am trying to focus."

The lift descended again, fortunately empty, as Hunter said, "Sounds like Grakkus doesn't have a hold on Vos' position."

"That is good," said Tech. "I'm accessing the information now, Hunter. Do you have a new priority for obtained data?"

"No. Just grab anything we can use."

"Understood."

Hunter closed his eyes for a moment, visualizing the maps he'd viewed earlier. A tiny buzz caught his attention, towards the stairway leading down just off this hallway. Tapping Crosshair on the arm, he headed towards the stairs. "Anyone aware of our presence?"

"No," said Tech. "Information downloaded. I'm monitoring internal communications, and there is nothing as of yet."

"How about life forms? Security measures?"

"Nothing in your immediate vicinity."

Hunter stopped at the top of the stairs and gazed down.

Crosshair knelt, rifle raised to his shoulder as he used the scope to survey the darkness below them. He shook his head. "Just an ordinary stairway."

"Uh-huh." Something was setting Hunter's nerves on edge. He narrowed his eyes at a particular step about halfway down. "There's some sort of current running through there."

"It is possible that there are traps that do not run off the main power grid," Tech said after a moment. "There are plenty of mines that have their own power sources."

"Understood." Hunter checked his chrono and turned away from the stairs. "I'm supposed to have the ship off here in the next couple of minutes. You guys meet back up at the lift. I'll fly directly over you."

"Not much in the way of recon," Crosshair said as they went back.

"I know. Let me tell you, I was not planning on getting hired by a Hutt." Hunter jumped and caught at the shaft of the lift. "Don't activate the lift. It's probably being monitored."

Crosshair slung his rifle over one shoulder and climbed up after him, then waited at the top of the shaft while Hunter carefully checked the roof of the palace. There was nothing out of place. "Tech, is the ship being watched?"

"There is one camera," Tech said. "The front of the ship is almost filling it. You should be able to get by unnoticed."

"Grakkus needs to update his security," Hunter said, hopping out of the shaft. He sprinted across the roof and entered through the Marauder. The job he'd done on the wires earlier would make it impossible for him to retract the landing gear, but he wasn't traveling far.

He started the ship, took off, and flew slowly toward the lift shaft, keeping the Marauder between the camera and the lift. As he neared the shaft, he lowered the steep boarding ramp and watched through the side viewport.

Crosshair was crouched just outside the lift. He ran forward to meet the ship and swung easily onboard. Just as the Marauder was passing over the opening in the roof, Tech came flying out and clutched desperately at the bottom step of the ramp. He got one knee over and crawled up the stairs, looking thoroughly disgruntled. Then Wrecker vaulted out of the shaft, sprinted after the ship, and clambered on at the last possible instant.

The three of them entered the cockpit loudly, Tech's voice high with disapproval as he berated Wrecker for throwing him onto the ship. "I am quite capable of getting onboard by myself!"

Wrecker guffawed. "Yeah, but you were taking too long."

Crosshair, who had just taken off his helmet, rolled his eyes and put a toothpick in his mouth before joining Hunter. "What now?"

"Now we wait for Vos to show up so we can tell him what's happened."

Tech sat down, still looking flustered, and pulled out his datapad. As he began sorting through the records he'd just obtained, Hunter piloted the ship back to the landing pad.

I honestly have no idea how the CW writers intended for Hunter's mutation to work. . . he can feel electromagnetic frequencies - hmm. After some research, I decided to give him similar abilities to those of sharks, but stronger, since water is a much higher conductor of electricity than air. Therefore, in this story, he has electroreception - the biological ability to perceive electrical stimuli. Also, like sharks, Hunter has passive electrolocation, not active. Active electrolocation is when a living creature produces electrical fields and detects distortions in those fields, whereas passive electrolocation is what allows the creature - or person, in this case - to sense the bioelectric fields produced by other living beings, as well as allowing him to sense other electrical fields.