Star Wars: Hunter's Beginning

Chapter 1: A New Job

"So, Stigo, how was the hunt?" the redheaded man behind the counter said to the armor clad wanderer who had just entered the sparsely populated cantina. The band was playing an upbeat tune while a duo of twi'leks spun about the stage.
"It went about as well as you'd expect." the hunter responded, sitting down. "Guy caught me with a blade." He removed his helmet to reveal a fresh wound stretching from his left eyebrow to his cheekbone, and a young, scruffy face. "It's going to leave a bad scar unless I get some bacta soon."
The bartender cut in, "Then it's a good thing I got another shipment in. Twelve crates. One of 'em would cost you 200 credits with the hunter's discount."
Stigo chuckled, setting his helmet down on the bar. "Don't worry about it, Jas. I still have a few aboard the Pergia. How much trouble do you think I get into?"
"Well, aside from the broken arm last week, and the scorch marks that showed up on your chestplate yesterday, I can never really tell."
"What can I say? Trouble finds me."
"Trouble finds you?" Jas said with a toothy grin. "What cheesy holo did you hear that in?"
"Doesn't matter. What matters is that I came here for a new blaster." The hunter removed his blaster pistol from his belt. As he set it on the counter, it became evident it was bent at a rather odd angle.
"Wow. How did you manage to do that?"
"Long fall," Stigo replied curtly, absentmindedly rubbing a shoulder.
"Well, I have a bunch of crates of blasters in the back, but they're a hot seller. Someone came in not two hours ago and dropped fifteen thousand credits."
The hunter sat up in shock before leaning forward and bringing his voice down to a whisper. "Fifteen thousand? What kind of weapons would someone want to buy for that much?"
Jas stroked his reddish whiskers and looked around to see if anyone was listening in. He spoke nearly quieter than his young friend. "Stolen Imperial blasters."
The look on Stigo's face was one of pure disbelief. "Stolen Imperial blasters? How did you manage to get a hand on those? Do you know what they'll do to you if you're caught?"
"Sadly, I do," sighed Jas. "Imperials intercepted the last guy I sent to run a couple crates. The money is too good to give up, and I've still got half a fortune collecting dust in the back." He scratched the back of his head, and his face suddenly lit up. "Do you think you could handle this run for me?"
"Are you insane?" shouted Stigo, pushing himself off the stool and onto his feet. The band stopped playing, and patrons around the cantina stared eagerly in hopes of a fight. He looked around, and quickly sat back on the stool. He said, much quieter, "I handle petty targets for the Hutts, and they barely like me as is. Now you want me to take on the Imperials?"
"Just calm down. It's a quick run. My guy was inexperienced, and frankly, an idiot. You, now, you're smart. You're quick thinking. I've supplied you with weapons, armor, and more bacta than most people see in a lifetime. I know you can pull this off."
Stigo sighed. "I don't know. It's really risky. Throw in a few of the blasters off the top and I'll think about it."
"I'll do you one better. First, I'll give you half a crate of the blasters just because I like you. Second, I'll split the payment with you, 50/50."
Stigo was shocked. "An even cut? Jas, you never split your profits with anyone. Closest I've seen you to splitting a haul was pelting that beggar outside with a credit chip."
Jas chuckled to himself. "Blasted Orit. Can't keep himself off my property." He smiled warmly at the memory before quickly snapping back to the conversation at hand. "Consider it a long term investment. It's a job I need done, and I'll set you up with more jobs afterwards if you want. Same kind of money. If not, you can walk with your credits. Sound good?"
Stigo sat back, scratching the his chin. "How do I know you'll keep your end of the bargain?"
Jas turned to grab a bottle of Juma Juice, laughing. "When have I ever double crossed you?"
"Lothal, Ord Mantell, Left Hand Lardak's sabaac tournament..."
The bartender stopped, looked down at the bottle, and turned to get something stronger. "None of those count. Those weren't jobs, those were favors for friends. World of a difference."
"How much have you screwed me out of?"
"I'd guess about 30 thousand credits, but who's counting?"
The hunter rolled his eyes and let out a deep breath. "You, apparently. What's the pay for this job?"
"20 thousand total, which makes 10 for you. Throw in those blasters, and you're riding high on success."
"Might as well do it then. The Pergia needs new stabilizers anyways." Stigo grabbed his helmet and stood up. "I'll send Rusty over to pick up the crates later tonight."
Jas poured himself a glass of finely aged Alderaanian Ale as his friend turns and walks away. "I'm surprised he still functions properly. When are you going to get his memory wiped already?"
Putting his helmet back on, Stigo waved his hand passingly. "The day he stops complaining."
The man behind the bar chuckled as Stigo exited the building.