It's at times like these you want nothing more then to take a few moments and look back at your life and ask yourself, "When did I get tied into this."

I normally make it a rule never to involve anyone you can avoid. It complicates things in my line of work. Sometimes though, you have to do things...

So here I am, sitting in another grim and dim Cantina waiting to meet a couple like minded souls. Bounty Hunters.

There are rules, even among scum like us, most of which I'd already broken. I was ruthless, I'd killed other hunters to get the acquisition before someone else could. I'd crossed bosses and employers more times then I would care to number. I'd hurt Syndicates and factions...Even stepped on Orders like those of the Jedi and the Sith. I had more enemies then stars in the galaxy, and it grows difficult, keeping that many enemies close.

Why am I still alive? Because I'm that good. No, honestly, there isn't any other reason for it. Anyone could take me down, and no one would shed any bad blood over it. Like I have said before, though, reputation goes a long way. The only reason I was still alive and working... because the galaxy needs people like me.

I'm not a criminal, so to speak. As far as I would explain it, I'm not. The people I work for, they are often outlaws. The people I hunt are always "bad people". I have morals. Judging by the stories and the rumors, I'm a cold hearted, calculating killer. Now, make no mistake, I am all of these things, but for a good reason. You made me.

If the need for people like me did not exist out there, in the vastness of the galaxy, then I would not exist. Simple, right.
The people I bring down, they are "bad" and deserve everything that's coming to them. If they don't, then I turn the job down.

I hunt people who need to be hunted.

Which is why I work alone.

It has happened before, and it never ends well.

So here I am...

Sitting with my back into a corner, I've kicked my legs up on the table, just for pose.

Knowing full well the importance of being prepared, I have taken precautions here today.

My faces are among hundreds, and yes, it is true that no one is exactly sure what I look like. Slight changes here, a shift there, and you can walk as everyone else, without always giving yourself away.

Today I'd gone for a dark complexion with short hair and a thin goatee. As always, I wore the headset with Heads Up Display, mica and ear-piece, to keep in contact with Hal at all times. I'd grabbed one of my nicer blast vests and my usual spacer garb to wear under a full length overcoat. As always, in situations like this, I brought along my wrist-unit/bracers, just in case I needed to pull some tricks. Two heavy blaster pistols hung low on my hips, modified Thunderer models, they were more then illegal on most worlds. To finish things off, I sat with my blaster carbine across my lap, one hand resting casually across the barrel.

After taking a sip of my lum and lighting a nic-cig, I sat back to contemplate further.

I had little or no idea what I was getting myself into, coming back like this. The galaxy seems such a different place...the options endless. It was time for some action again, time to get back the game. What better way to do that then call out the big faces. But then, someone had the idea before me, which was why I was here.

Thoughts of countless possibilities flowed quietly through my head, how this could turn out.

Bounty Hunting is like sabacc, always plan for ever contingency, and keep a few moves ahead of everyone else at the table.

Ahh...That must be one of them now...
Nod, and yes, he sees me. This should be interesting.

Jorel Fett, a bounty hunting legacy, cared little who knew when and where he went. If there was anyone who wanted to take a shot at him, let them try. He strode into the cantina in full armor, his weapons draped around him like metals of honor. He didn't care.

It also helped that most people didn't well know what to believe about him. They knew he was a Fett, and for most people that was more than enough. Ways parted for him everywhere he went, and this cantina was no different. People stood aside and when he seated himself, they made sure not to sit to closely.

His voice came over the helm communications unit.

"Glad you could make it."

Nod, not too nice, but not too rude. You cannot be in this industry long without hearing the name Fett. A legacy went with that name, one that transcended space and time.

"Fett. When I heard you were asking, I knew it would prove beneficial to show."

He was in full armor and fully armed. Apparently, he was thinking along the same lines as I was today. Better safe then sorry.

"Grab a seat and let's...talk." I said, looking him up and down, always cool as ice, always sizing up the players. "Names Pike, but you probably knew that."

"Glad to finally meet you. Face to helmet."

This could prove worth my time.

Fett had seated himself before speaking.

"Kenix Kil has authorized me to speak for him aswell, as he cannot make it to this meeting."

His voice sounded distorted through his helmet, but he never removed it in public. He sat, watching the man.. knowing almost all there was to know about him, but betraying nothing.

"We are reforming the Bounty Hunter's Guild and we are offering you membership. We offer once, and only once. If you are not with us, then we cannot protect you from our members."

He did not mean it as a threat, though he did not make it sound pleasant either. Some of the group's members had been known to kill another hunter to secure a quarry. It was a fact of the game.

Now, count the cards on the table. Find out if he's playing with a true sabacc or just a hand of bantha pudu.

"I came, that must show I'm at least partly interested. I can't help but recall my history. Didn't your ancestor Fett get involved with the old guild?" I ask, but I already know the answer. So does he. It's a trump card... try and force him into making some reassuring statements. "When all the smoke cleared, I remember something quite clearly...Your ancestor was the only one to walk away from the guild with what he wanted. If I'm right, everyone else lost."

I need to know, is this just another Fett ploy to off some of the competition, or is it sincere. There's no reason that this Fett has to be the same as the one from time past...

"You have my ear, talk on, I'll listen."

Fett responded without hesitation.

"If my comrades are loyal, we can avoid the same mistakes made in the past. If they betray me as my father was betrayed, history will indeed repeat itself."

He made no qualms about his answer, just left it at that. He was a man a few words, but his words were spoken with conviction and honor.

Amusing. Facts and threats in one. Perhaps I would find myself knowing the new as I did the old, but that is a story and secret for another time.

"I follow the credits. So long as I'm getting what I want.

Simple answers were the best. I had to assume that Fett knew everything about me that I'd put out there. Just as I knew everything he allowed to be known about himself.
We all have secrets, the trick being in keeping them safe, so they are not used against you.

"The credit's will be good, will they?"

Grin, then sip my lum and slip the niccig back between my lips.

Secrets.

The Mandalore replied simply.

"The credits will be far beyond that you are used to. They have been good enough for me thus far that I have procured for us a planet on which to base our operations. I have already built one large shipyard, begun construction on another, and also begun construction on a construction yard. So yes, the credits are good."

Mandalore. He had earned the right to call himself that now, though he often still went by Fett. It was not only his birthright to be the Mandalore, but also his right now as he owned the planet Mandalore itself. Odd how things worked out.

That forced a response out of me, a look of surprise that I quickly covered away with a grin.

"A whole planet?" I chuckled, "Must have some big plans in the works." But there was no way to hide it. Opportunities like this always pulled me in.

"That's a discussion for later."

Prying ears and eyes, always keeping an eye out for the chance to sell information like this.

"Somewhere...", I started, but was cut short, my attention drawn to a lone Defel sitting far across the cantina, his attention clearly focused on Fett and myself.

Cool as ice.

"Somewhere more private maybe?" I finished, adding a nod that to the casual watcher would look to be aimed towards the exit. Fett would know better.

This was his arena, I'd let him lead and I'd follow... for now.

The Mandalore had obviously already noticed the man through his sensor filled helm. He removed his right sidearm, twirled it neatly, then fired behind him, leaving a gaping hole in the Defel's head.

"I am sure prying ears and eyes will now be discouraged. I have taken care that this place is not bugged, so I believe we will stay here."

He would have grinned, had he had any emotion to speak of. It was always pleasing to be good at what you do, and even more pleasing to be the best.