Episode X Dark Hunter

Dark Clouds on the Horizon

The next fourteen years of Videsse's life were neither as good nor as bad as they could have been. Such is the nature and condition of all of our lives. She followed in the footsteps of Boba's tutelage. Although Boba never admitted to liking her, she gradually grew to understand that he did love her in his own way before he died. As for Terrah, her mother, she did return; for she was certainly not dead.

However, it is not my intention to expound on those stories. As with the history of the Galaxy, someone else has narrated the story of Boba Fett's affection for Videsse and of Terrah Otlell's return to her daughter. If you would care to trudge through the muck of those stories; if you cared about kidnappings and dog fights, pirate traps, and blood hunters; if that kind of drivel would interest you, then go and find those stories and read them elsewhere. I am committed not to waste my time nor yours.

How Boba found the infamous Millenium Falcon in the aftermath of the Lybeya battle, how the eleven-year-old Videsse repaired it, how she was kidnapped by an avaricious collector of ships and men, how Boba Fett had to make a choice between Videsse and the Falcon, and how through it Videsse became wealthy; that story you will have to find on your own. I will not tell it.

Neither will I tell you about how Terrah faked her death to escape pursuit from that same collector, how she fell into the trap of a pirate—the same trap Videsse became caught in--and was hunted by hybrid hounds, and how Terrah returned to Videsse and to the man she loved. I absolutely will not give that story here. I have a commitment to my heroine to avoid falling into those expositional traps. Speaking of our heroine, where did she go? I somehow lost her in the midst of the throngs of Nar Shaddaa.

Nar Shaddaa, also known as the Smuggler's Moon, was a moon of Nal Hutta in the Mid Rim of the galaxy. A sprawling city, the filthy and corrupt Hutta town covered the moon. As the name implies, the Hutt crime lords had ruled the moon for centuries. Currently, Felga the Hutt presided over the syndicate throne for the last forty years.

Travelers, smugglers, traders, and criminals crowded the moon's narrow alleyways like a wart-hornet hive. To find anyone in the mass was an impossible task, as men, women, and beasts weaved between each other randomly so it seemed. Sweat and stench, heat and humidity pervaded the alleyways like the sticky forests of Ryloth. Instead of appealing flora, it was just metal and mud. No one tried to maneuver the muck maze unless absolutely necessary. It was a good place to make you sick and possibly get a vibroblade in the side.

So instead of finding the young woman here—for she was in there somewhere—let me take you to where she was going, where we may be able to breathe a little easier and wait for her arrival. She will emerge unscathed, be sure of that.

A ramshackle garage resided in what could be called the Mid Rim of the city—not in the center of Felga's rule—but not so far away from it that the underground anarchy bubbled up. The owner, an aging Trandoshan named Donal, worked for decades under the protection of Felga's extortion. He perpetually repaired spacecraft with his shop droid, and Timcamca, a faithful Dug, if there could be such a thing as a faithful Dug. Donal had become a long-time friend of Boba Fett, also, if there could be such a thing as a friend of Boba. His lizard-like appearance set most people on edge, especially knowing the history of his race as slave traders and villains. However, Donal was not like the majority of his race. For one, he was a coward—an impossible characteristic that he had somehow overcome at rare times.

He sat on his stool behind a small business table with his back to the front door, staring at a dead Chir'daki starfighter. He scratched his forehead while squinting at the ship.

Timcamca worked on the top, replacing steam vents and cursing out loud, aiming his comments indirectly at Donal.

"Calm down, Tim," Donal growled. "It's not a waste to change the vents. We'll get it flying again." Then, speaking to himself, he said in a quiet tone, "I just need to think about how we are actually going to fix this trash heap. Especially for the price the owner is willing to pay."