CAST OF CHARACTERS: VIDDU'S HOUNDS

4-LOM - This unusual protocol droid is not only fitted with an insectoid head in order to resemble its creators, but its original programming is so corrupt that it is capable of cold-blooded murder. He has caught many bounties with Dengar and Zuckuss.

Agatha Prima - A green Mirialan female. Mirialan tradition includes facial tattoos denoting accomplishment and social status, but Agatha commited the crime of falsifying her facial tattoos. Her criminal sentence included a very brutal tattoo removal surgery which left her face disfigured.

Beefhead - An albino Wookiee who owes a life-debt to Zuckuss.

Dengar - An aging bounty hunter and pilot of the Lamelar. Nine years ago, he took part in the Imperial operation to hunt down Han Solo, along with Zuckuss and 4-LOM. They were beaten by Boba Fett.

Mogo - An alleged Mandalorian. The newest member of Viddu's Hounds. Wears red and black armor.

Raptor - A bounty hunter who wears a motley assortment of armor.

Zuckuss - An aged Gand findsman and frequent partner of Dengar and 4-LOM.

***

A group of Gungans lounging atop an automated rice husker shouted in alarm as a crimson wedge sliced through bright blue sky and tore across the field with a deafening roar. Water leaped up from the field in the Lamelar's wake and a Gungan threw himself from the husker's platform, convinced they were being raided.

The Lamelar ignored the farmers, instead streaking toward the ancient castle as if on an attack run. At this point the plantation guards, many of whom were in the castle bar thanks to several years of peace, were filling all comm channels with cries of alarm as the Lamelar shot past a defense tower. Air traffic control, manned only by a single Kitonak who had been trying to nap through his shift, reported that the incoming ship was broadcasting a friendly Cheka landing code. Nevertheless farmers raced away from the castle's open forecourt as the Lamelar braked hard and spun in a tight and reckless landing maneuver. Guards shoved past the fleeing civilians with their weapons trained on the red Spearpoint-class Corellian transport shuttle as a boarding ramp extended from its entry hatch. Despite the Lamelar's aggressive approach, six bounty hunters disembarked with an easy attitude.

"The hell do you think you're doing?" a fanged, hairy Shistavanen shouted as he led a group of guards up to the bounty hunters.

"Official Cheka business!" said Raptor. "You better holster those blasters, boy."

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"Holster our...?" the Shistavanen's mouth fell open. "After you come in flying like that?!"

"You didn't pick up our Cheka broadcast? We're friendlies."

"Well... we have a covered spaceport for visitors on official business. You can't park here!"

"We just did," Raptor said as they brushed their way past the guards.

Zuckuss laughed in a sort of gulping, wet chortle. Despite leaning on a cane, he was feeling good today, and was able to keep a steady pace with the younger members.

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"4-LOM, Beefhead, come with me," said Zuckuss. "We're going to have a friendly chat with the man in charge here. Dengar, keep the ship running. Raptor, Agatha, Mogo, take a look around and see if you spot anything... interesting."

"Will do, sir," said Raptor.

"Check you guys later," Mogo said as his jetpack flared to life. "Try not to do anything too stupid, okay, Raptor?"

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Before Raptor could respond, Mogo rose into the air on slender threads of red flame, then blasted off toward the roof of the castle.

Raptor could not help but notice that the castle was an odd combination of ancient architecture mixed with flashing holographic advertisements and modern extensions which had been added without any thought given to aesthetic balance. It looked like the architectural equivalent of a part-man, part-machine cyborg. He broke off from the others and made his way toward the spaceport, a large, domed building that also clashed with the ancient castle. Agatha suddenly caught up to him.

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"Hey!" she said. "We should watch each other's back while we look around."

"No, thanks," said Raptor. "I want to see if our targets were dumb enough to hide their stolen ship in the spaceport. I don't need any eyes but my own to do that."

Unperturbed, Agatha tried to keep pace with the tall bounty hunter. "Have you decided what you're going to do with all the credits from this job?" she asked.

"Same thing I always do. Stick it in the bank and forget about it."

"Oh. Really? I thought you said... you said something earlier about bounty hunters being in it for the money. You're a bounty hunter, aren't you?"

Raptor sighed. "I like the kind of money I make with Viddu's Hounds because I never have to worry about money."

"You know, we're more alike than you think."

"Doubt it. I look pretty good under my mask."

Agatha frowned. "I mean, like, what drives you."

"I'm not chasing a ghost, Agatha. The past isn't real. I live in the moment."

"So you're not in it for the money? Or even for, like... a belief, or something?"

"Honestly? I just want to hurt people."

Agatha stopped and Raptor continued on, his heavy blaster rifle cradled in his arms. Though she was shocked by his candor, she was nonetheless intrigued.

"But... but that's what I want, too," she said quietly.

* * *

Regis stalked down the ancient stone hallway, trying to organize his thoughts despite a rising sense of dread twisting in his gut.

"Luke, it's time to leave," he said under his breath. Luke was nowhere within earshot, but Regis pushed himself to pretend as if he were. "Your friend's not helping us. The accommodations are nice, the view is great, but have you noticed we're surrounded by aliens who don't like us?" Regis cringed. "No, no, that sounds stupid. Uh... Luke, if we don't get a move on, one of the aliens watching our every move is going to decide on making an anonymous call to the Cheka. And it only takes one, so..."

Regis cringed again. He hated the feeling that he was asking for permission to use his father's hover car. "Luke, damn it, your friend's a drunk and a xenophile! You want to wait here and get arrested, fine, but don't expect me and the others to..."

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Regis shook his head. He knew Luke would just give him an infuriating smile and tell him to be patient. He began to wonder if he should leave without Luke. Then again, what could he do without Luke? Luke was a wild card, and without him, Regis and his friends were just a few soldiers vastly outnumbered by aliens who hated them. Then again, even if they stuck with Luke, Regis could just imagine Cheka enforcers walking them out of Han's castle in stun cuffs and throwing them in the back of a patrol cruiser, with Luke assuring him that it was all a part of the will of the Force.

As Regis drew near the door to Luke's chamber, no better prepared than before he set out, he stopped when he saw that the door was already propped open slightly. He could hear Luke speaking to someone, so he hung back and listened in.

"But what if they're right?" said Luke. "What if we can't get along? What if the only way to end the conflict is to... to go our separate ways?"

Luke fell silent, but Regis could not hear the other speaker. Unable to contain his curiosity, he glanced through the crack in the doorway. He had expected to see someone with Luke, or at least see Luke sitting before a holoprojector with the volume turned low, but instead, Luke only stood looking at a point near the floor. Then Luke turned as if someone else had his attention. In a moment, his gaze returned to the point near the floor. Regis began to wonder if he had only imagined Luke speaking, but then he spoke once again.

"I agree, to a point," said Luke. "The Jedi provided order, and safety... until they didn't. If all it took was one very gifted Sith to wipe them out, then that's a problem. I can't just reestablish an order so obviously flawed, it-"

Luke fell silent, turning aside and shaking his head as if someone else was really there. Regis's mouth fell open. He wanted to turn away before Luke saw him, but then again, it did not look as if Luke was mindful of anything but his imaginary conversation.

"That's not true, Master," said Luke. "I would never turn to the dark side. But you have to admit, the Empire didn't come out of nothing. It wasn't just a trick of the Sith! A lot of people must have wanted it, must have hungered for the security and safety, which the Jedi could never provide. You saw what happened when I tried to reestablish a Jedi academy! As soon as I started recruiting, different people wanted specific amounts of recruits from every world. Maybe I was naive to think I couldn't work in secret, but I didn't want the New Jedi Order to be a secret. I wasn't going to run a secret police force! But when the senators couldn't agree how many of this race and how many of that race I should take in, it was a diplomatic nightmare. Nobody would budge, and it seemed like Leia only wanted to stir the pot. She couldn't understand that not everybody has a strong connection to the Force."

Regis had never seen Luke like this. He did not seem like a calm monk in tune with a mysterious power that Regis could never understand; he seemed more like a frustrated man lost in an argument with flawed people who were equally frustrated.

"Confront Leia?" Luke said suddenly. "No. You're wrong. I'm not going to confront her, I'm going to help her! She... she just needs..."

Feeling frustrated with the situation, Regis knocked on the door and pushed it open. Luke whirled on him, then froze.

"Luke?" said Regis. "Who were you talking to?"

Luke said nothing, but stared at Regis as if looking through him. Regis had the sense that Luke was somewhere else entirely.

"Luke? You okay, buddy?"

"Han's in trouble," Luke finally responded. "Come on!"

As Luke brushed past Regis and raced down the hall, Regis grabbed his communicator.

"Vasili, Sindo, you there?" said Regis.

"We're here, Sergeant!" said Vasili, slipping back into his old habit of acknowledging the chain of command.

"We got trouble. Grab your stuff and make for the ship!"

"We moving cool or hot?"

Regis caught the code and winced as he realized he was not carrying his blaster. Luke suddenly broke into a run, and Regis realized the time for being stealthy had come to an end. "Have your weapons in-hand, and grab mine, too, while you're at it," Regis said, running to catch up with Luke. "Anybody tries to stop you, you blast 'em!"

* * *

"Have a seat, gentleman," said Han, gesturing to a table. "Drinks? It's on me."

"I appreciate the offer, sir," said Zuckuss, "but we are not here to-"

"UUUwaawaaWaagh!" Beefhead interrupted.

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"Well, one drink for my associate, then," said Zuckuss.

"Sure thing," said Han, signaling to the barkeep for two drinks. Looking the giant albino Wookiee up and down, Han signaled for three instead.

Han sat down in a booth seat against the wall, and Beefhead helped Zuckuss into a chair while 4-LOM stood nearby. As a droid approached with their drinks, Beefhead took two for himself, tossing one back so that its contents disappeared immediately. He gave the empty mug back to the serving droid, then plopped down in a chair, causing it to groan under his weight. Han took his glass of Kibshae, sipped it, then smiled at the bounty hunters as if this was a friendly call, and he had nothing to hide.

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"Mister Solo," said Zuckuss. "As I said before, we've received some disturbing reports regarding Imperial infiltration of this plantation."

"Reports?" said Han, his eyebrows lifting. "That sounds awfully official. Who did you say you were with, Mister Zuckuss? I was under the impression that you were bounty hunters."

"That is so, Mister Solo. Our services have been outsourced by the Cheka."

Han laughed and threw an arm over the back of his seat. "I have trouble believing any Cheka bureaucrat would outsource labor from the Hutt Cartel, when the Cheka have an army of fine and capable soldiers ready for action."

"That's a reasonable assertion, Mister Solo, but sadly flawed. It seems these particular Imperial agents outclass the Cheka. They wiped out an entire squad of Cheka special forces, and fought their way through a blockade. They are not to be underestimated, sir, and if they are here, then that means you are in danger."

"Have you seen the big Gungans with blasters posted all around here?" said Han, shrugging off the warning. "I think we can handle a few Imps who come crawling out of the Outer Rim."

"This is no laughing matter, sir."

"Who's laughing?" Han's brow furrowed with concern.

"If you understand that this is a serious matter, then will you consent to a full search of your operation?"

"I'll consent to a search," said Han.

"Good! Then-"

"After I've seen a warrant signed by a New Republic judge."

Han watched as the bounty hunter's helmeted, insectoid head bent low and tucked into his shoulders. The slow, steady motion looked no different from a predator preparing to strike. If Han had been ten years younger and not burdened by responsibility, he knew he would have flipped the table and gone for his blaster. As it was, he leaned forward and gripped his hands before him, holding the alien's gaze in the hopes that all three would realize he was not someone who would simply roll over when intimidated.

"You're wasting our time, Mister Solo," said Zuckuss. "As I said, we represent the Cheka in this matter. Whether or not we have paperwork stamped, dated, and signed in triplicate is immaterial."

"Immaterial? Brother, our entire New Republic is immaterial. It's just an idea - but it is the authority, and that's why we follow the letter of the law around here. Maybe things work differently in worlds controlled by the Hutt Cartel."

Han laughed before he could stop himself, a nervous response to his own absurd statement. He had always been good at hiding nervous tension, but now his heart took off racing at the thought that these bounty hunters might have spent any time at all looking into his past. If they had, then the idea that a former smuggler and freedom fighter had suddenly turned into an obedient bureaucrat who gave serious consideration to rules written by other bureaucrats was, of course, laughable.

Han played off his nervous laughter with a smooth smile and sudden relaxing of posture. He leaned back slightly and glanced off to the side, as if his attention was already drifting toward other more important matters. Glancing back to the bounty hunters, he saw that they were not amused. The Wookiee had frozen in mid-drink, and was glaring at him over the top of his mug with a dull, dead-eyed stare. The droid's head twitched as he watched Han, its vocalizers clicking in frustration. Feeling the weight of their gaze, Han crossed his hands on his belly, then let one hand slip beneath the table. It strayed close to the blaster hanging at his side.

"You make light of us, sir," said Zuckuss. "You imply that we operate outside of the law, when, unfortunately, you are the one who may have given refuge to Imperial agents."

Han glanced at the kitchen doorway, where he saw a serving droid conversing quietly with a Gungan guard. As if sensing trouble, Beefhead turned and looked over his shoulder. The Gungan guard pulled back behind the doorway so that he was out of sight, but still the Wookiee looked around as if troubled.

"I spent my life fighting the Empire," said Han, his jaw suddenly clenching as his hand wrapped around the handle of his blaster. "Now you're going to come in here and tell me that I'm one of them?"

Zuckuss's head suddenly cocked in an oddly inhuman gesture. "We live in dark times indeed," said Zuckuss. "I applaud your fight against evil, sir. Truly, I do. And yet, those stories of the past seem so hard to believe, when a man who once charged into Imperial gunfire in the battle for species equality now cannot be bothered to allow a simple search of his vast estate. What do I tell my people, when they ask if you knowingly hid Imperial stormtroopers? What do I tell my poor family, sir, when my children ask me whether or not humans hate us?"

Something about the statement cut deep into Han. Though he might have laughed off such bleeding heart sentiment in his youth, it now touched a nerve. Despite questionable actions in his past, he knew that he was not a bad person, and he felt, on a very deep and fundamental level, that if others could see the truth about himself, then they would be forced to agree. Luke had told Han about how he had confronted his own father, and in refusing to kill him, his father had turned to good. After enduring years of discomfort and sidelong glances of distrust, Han suddenly wondered if perhaps a friendly gesture was all it would take to disarm an opponent. What if that was the true path toward ending such senseless fighting?

All of these thoughts occurred to Han in only a moment, and so with hardly a moment's hesitation Han released his blaster and raised both hands just over the edge of the table. "Look," said Han, "I'll be cold and dead before I ever join up with the bad guys. But my point-"

"That's the idea."

There was a sudden flash of light and the shriek of blaster fire as Zuckuss pulled the trigger on his pistol, shooting Han in the belly from under the table.