CHAPTER ONE

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The white Twi'lek dancing in the spotlight still remembered when she would do so for the sheer joy she experienced with her sisters. Life in her homeworld of Ryloth had never been perfect, and yet she pined for the days before it became an Imperial protectorate. She came to learn about the new government when stormtroopers raided her village and dragged her away from her family. Like so many of her species, slavers sold her to serve as entertainment.

A few owners later, she ended up high on a stage behind a bar in another unfortunate planet, swaying for the pleasure of those who had brought so much misery into her life. At least her vantage point kept her safe from unwanted hands, and the light shielded her sight from the men in white armor, so she could pretend to be alone.

Pharango Nero, the four-eyed Aqualish bartender, served the crowd of identical faces. He liked the old clones more than the human recruits the Empire began to draft in the five years since its inception. The veterans had no issue with other species and tended to enjoy their downtime in peace. The garrison had come to bring law and order to Nevarro, a planet in the Outer Rim territory. The swarm of stormtroopers increased Pharango's business. His cantina, Nero's, became a popular hangout for soldiers. This also meant locals tended to avoid the place, making the sight of an Ubese bounty hunter entering a cause for concern.

Cladded in his raider armor, the stranger cradled a carabine and studied the crowd through the thin visor of his helmet. One by one the soldiers fell quiet, as the bounty hunter made his way to the bar. Their eyes spotted the blades strapped to his belt and bandoleer under his ogygian cloak. Two modified DE-10 pistols with no sights hung from his hips.

"What's this?" said Agent Oldar, putting his drink down. The sole non-clone human in the cantina, he sported the gray uniform of fleximetal cuirass associated with the Imperial Security Bureau.

"Some people just don't have situational awareness," said Commander Bly, in his Phase II clone trooper armor with the yellow trimming denoting his rank—a distinction allowed for veteran clone units of the war. "Don't worry. Sergeant Rough Hide is about to make him take a dive in a bacta tank."

Pharango served the Ubese a double Tevraki whiskey, when three clones approached the bounty hunter. The bartender hesitated, opting to busy himself at the opposite end of the bar, rather than risk saying anything that might aggravate the situation.

"That visor of yours must be too narrow," Sargent Rough Hide said. "Tonight, this cantina is stormtroopers' only."

The stranger stared down at his glass, rubbing his thumb on the rim.

"That's an interesting rifle you got there," said Corporal Grids, looking at the carabine resting on the counter. "A modified E-22? That's an Imperial weapon." The bounty hunter had added an external accelerator barrel cage to the upper barrel, and a narglatch tusk vibro-spike to the bottom one. "Maybe that's why you got confused."

"Say, Sarge. Aren't those illegal for civilians?" Callback said.

"They are," Sergeant Rough Hide looked at the weapon. "Where did you get that, pal?"

"From a clone trooper I killed." The helmet scrambled the stranger's voice.

The clones became serious.

"What did you just say?" Grids gripped the stranger by a shoulder.

The splash of whiskey blinded Callback as the Ubese wrapped his arm around Grids', snapping the joint. He smashed Rough Hide's nose with his elbow before breaking the glass on the corporal's face. Throwing a knife at a clone to his right, the bounty hunter picked up his rifle, shooting Callback, striking Rough Hide, and bayonetting Grids.

An explosion by the door took out a table full of stormtroopers, due to a small thermal detonator the stranger had dropped on the floor when he came in. The distraction allowed him to throw a second charge at a cluster of clones.

The stranger kneed Rough Hide in the spine, bending him backwards, allowing him to pin his arms back with his carabine and immobilizing his head with the strap. Using the sergeant as a human shield, the stranger gunned down the clones sitting at the counter, and two more by the tables. Dropping the dead sergeant, he sprayed acid from his gauntlet onto a couple more and produced a Kyuzo petar.

The monomolecular energy cord of the curved, double-bladed knife scintillated as the stranger shredded his enemies in close quarters, targeting the space between their armor, and fracturing bones with its knuckle-guard. The bounty hunter's martial art resembled a faster, grittier, more brutal style of Teräs Käsi. The stranger relied on chains of incapacitating multiple strikes and fracturing grapples to weave between his enemies as he eviscerated them, then used them for blaster cover. Assisted by a vibromachete, he obliterated the last four clones in his purlieu, and threw the Kyuzo petar at Commander Bly. Before hitting its target, the spinning knife oscillated, slitting the throats of three more stormtroopers.

The stranger tipped over a table by rolling on it, providing himself with some cover. He took out the clone behind him with carbonite-filled darts fired from his wrist, which froze the clone solid. A thermal detonator took care of the last group of shooters.

Panicked by the unmanageable massacre around him, Agent Oldar ran for the door. Within a couple of steps, fibercord bolas, fired from the bounty hunter's gauntlet, entangled his legs, delivering a neurotoxin through the barbs of its weighted ends.

A blaster shot hit the stranger's chest. Drawing his pistols, he took out the last three clones standing with the DE-10's distinctive bright-blue bolts. After scanning the room with his targeting laser, he checked the hit on his impact armor. Though damaged, the plate had done its job. The stranger holstered his guns and approached the bar.

The dancer laid flat on the stage, fearing for her fate. The sudden silence prompted her to take a peek. She gasped when she met the killer's visor staring at her. Instead of aiming a weapon though, he offered her his hand. Frightened, the girl obliged, and the stranger helped her down the stage.

"Find a better life." The stranger offered her a credit chip.

The Twi'lek hesitated, expecting some sadistic ruse. Impassive, the man tilted his head towards the exit. With a trembling hand, the girl took the chip.

"Thank you." The dancer grabbed the chip and ran away, careful not to step on any corpses.

The stranger's attention turned to Pharango, hiding behind the bar. The Aqualish rose to his feet as if commanded by the Ubese's stare. A rush of thoughts crossed his mind of what he could say to save his life, but his fright prevented him from speaking. Pharango flinched when the stranger reached into his belt. The man placed the credits he owed for his drink on top of the bar. He looked at the stage, then back at the bartender. "No more slaves."

Pharango agreed with vehement nods from his long flat head. When the stranger craned his neck toward the street, the thankful bartender took the money and fled, planning to leave town as soon as possible.

Commander Bly gripped the Kyuzo petar stuck in his clavicle, to avoid further exsanguination from its removal. He palmed the floor around him, searching for his blaster as he saw the bounty hunter picking up his E-22 rifle before approaching him.

"Who... who are you?" Bly choked on his own blood.

Taking his time, the stranger inserted a fresh magazine in his carabine. At this point, any hesitation he experienced disappeared when he relived his most painful memory. Chambering his rifle, the stranger fired at Bly until he ran out of ammo. He contemplated the smoldering mass of charred flesh and melting plastoid as he reloaded. Agent Oldar began to cackle. The stranger retrieved his Kyuzo petar and walked over his immobilized prey.

"You stupid fool," Agent Oldar said. "You must be the dumbest bounty hunter in the galaxy. Do you know who I am? Who I work for? The connections I have? Do you really think I'm going to be allowed off this planet alive?"

"I'm counting on it." The stranger reached for him.

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