CHAPTER ONE
Dax Goldam knew he should have seen this coming from a mile away. If he was being honest with himself, he was surprised it had taken this long for things to go sour.
It was hardly the first time he had been faced with a bunch of blasters pointed at his face, nor was it the first time those blasters were being held by those he would have considered his partners. He had been at this long enough to know that there were no such things as friendships in bounty hunting, but he had been with Remar Almor and his crew for long enough to assume that maybe, just maybe, there was something genuine and heartfelt to their working relationship.
Evidently, Remar did not see things the same way.
“It’s been a good run, Dax,” the older man said, smirking behind the blaster pistol he had leveled at Dax’s face. “But good things can’t last forever, you know.”
“Come on, Rem’,” Dax replied, pointing his own weapon squarely at the older man’s armored chest. “It doesn’t have to be like this.”
“You’re right, it doesn’t. You can just lower the blaster and let me leave here with my prize.” Remar gestured to the gold ornate crate situated between them. “That way, we both get to live and go our separate ways.”
Dax frowned, his green eyes narrowed. “I thought you were better than this, Remar. I thought you were supposed to be honorable.”
Remar snorted, shaking his head. “In this line of work, honor gets thrown out the window. I’ve learned that the hard way more times than I can count. I’ve been stabbed in the back so many times, I could show you the scars.”
“That doesn’t give you good reason to stab others in the back, though. Besides, Dok-Ondar’s offering us a pretty hefty amount to bring this back to him.”
“So? I know some people who would pay twice as much for this thing.”
“Doesn’t matter. A deal’s a deal. We’re taking this back to Batuu.”
Remar sneered at him. “And whose ship are we taking it in? Pretty sure that hunk of junk out there is under my name, not yours. And I don’t think Sharbrook’s gonna let you fly it. Sorry, kid, but I’m afraid you’re outvoted here.”
As he said this, a large shadow fell over Dax and right away he knew it was over. With a heavy sigh, he lowered his blaster and reluctantly holstered it, never taking his glare off Remar. The other bounty hunter simply smirked and did not lower his own blaster as a towering Wookiee stepped around from behind Dax to join him.
“Go ahead and carry this thing out,” Remar said to Sharbrook. When the Wookiee gave a questioning grunt, he answered, “Don’t worry. He’s smart enough not to pull anything stupid.”
Without further conversation, Sharbrook hoisted the Ryloth Ark up onto his large shoulder and carried it out of the room. Remar moved to follow him, slowly stepping towards the doorway as he kept his blaster and eyes trained on Dax.
“I’ve enjoyed working with you, Dax. Really. I don’t regret any of the time we’ve spent together. But I think it’d be best for both of us to go our separate ways before we end up killing each other.”
He made it to the doorway and hovered his hand over the control panel, flashing a toothy grin to meet Dax’s baleful gaze.
“See you around, kid.”
And with that, the door slammed shut and Dax was left alone in the dark room. He waited several minutes for Remar and Sharbrook’s footsteps to recede into the distance before moving for the exit himself. To his relief, Remar had at least had the heart to not lock the door or bust the controls. The metal door swished open and Dax stepped out of the warehouse into the cool Phaedan night. The bodies of security guards still lay where Dax and Remar had blasted them, filthy rodents picking at their remains. They immediately scampered away as Dax walked past them and strode down the narrow alleyway that led from the warehouse district into the streets of Derapha, pulling his black trench coat closer to his body. He didn’t care if the authorities found the bodies; crime was such a regular occurrence on Phaeda that they would likely just toss them away and not bother looking too much into it.
While he had always expected Remar and Sharbrook to ditch him one of these days, Dax had not expected this one to be the one that broke the spamel’s back. It was just supposed to be a simple job, breaking into the warehouse of a recently deceased relic collector and taking the Ryloth Ark before it could be seized by the government of Phaeda. But no, Remar had to turn around and make it about him. Now Dax was back at square one, out of a job and out of a method of transportation. It was an unwanted repeat of what had happened to him five years ago, when his crew had abandoned him on Desevro after failing to catch Baron Salvan Tai. He supposed he should have learned his lesson after that, but then he had signed up with Remar’s crew and allowed himself to feel complacent. A mistake he should have known better than to make.
Puddles splashed beneath his boots as he stalked down the streets, brushing past other denizens of various species. One look at the nasty scowl on his face was enough to dissuade any of them from approaching him or giving him any trouble, which he was grateful for. Up ahead, he could see the faded neon sign of a local cantina. If nothing else, he could at least drown his sorrows until he found or thought of a way to—
A hand shot out of an alleyway he was passing by and grabbed him roughly by the arm. As he was pulled into the alley, he used his other hand to draw his blaster and took aim at his assailant. Before he could get in a single shot, the weapon was knocked out of his hand and he was slammed against the wall by a strong pair of hands. As he struggled against his attacker’s grip, he tried to get a good look at them but was unable to make out much detail.
“Stop struggling,” a soft, modulated voice spoke into his ear. “I just want to talk.”
“I don’t,” Dax grunted. “Get off me before I—”
“I have an offer to make you, Dax Goldam. One that I know you can’t refuse.”
At this, Dax paused in his thrashing, staring at the space where he believed his attacker’s face to be. “How do you know who I am?”
“We all have our connections. The people I work for have heard of your reputation and have a job for you that would be… befitting of your skills and worth your time.”
“What kind of job are we talking about?”
The assailant finally moved off him, taking their hands off his shoulders. As they stepped back into the dim lights of the adjacent street, he was able to see that they had a slender yet athletic build, most likely female, and wore a silver chestplate over a black leather undersuit. The mask she wore concealed her face, though the light gave him a brief glimpse of human eyes peering behind the eyepieces of her mask.
“I take it the name ‘Kadar’ holds some meaning to you?” she asked.
Dax sucked in his breath. “How do you know about that?”
“We know a lot about you, Goldam. A lot more than you would probably like me to know.” She stepped closer to him again and her figure once more blended into the shadows of the alleyway. “My employers want him dead as much as you do. They also have a thing for poetic justice and, given what they know about you, they couldn’t think of anyone else better suited for the job.”
Dax realized he was breathing heavily. The masked woman raised her hands to him again, this time to trace a line from his shoulder to his chest. A lump formed in his throat as she voiced the question he was waiting for her to ask.
“Do you want to finally avenge your father, Dax Goldam? Do you want to kill Kadar?”
He wasted no time in answering her.
In an instant, Remar Almor’s betrayal had already become a distant memory.
* * *
Phaeda had already become a distant memory by the time Remar Almor and Sharbrook’s ship had made the jump into hyperspace. The Ryloth Ark was secure in the ship’s cargo hold and they were well on their way to meet up with their employer.
As the swirling blue tunnel of hyperspace spun in the viewport, Remar leaned forward in his seat and keyed in a transmission to said employer. Within moments, the miniature image of a draconian being materialized between his and Sharbrook’s seats, seated upon a stone throne with giant wings tucked behind him.
“Mr. Almor,” said Drakmos the Despised, member of the Malvis Cabal. “It is good to hear from you again, especially so soon. You bring good news, I trust?”
Remar smirked. “I sure do. The Ryloth Ark is in our hands. We’re on our way to Ord Talavos as we speak.”
“Splendid!” Drakmos interlaced his long scaly fingers together, his snout splitting open in a grin full of razor-sharp teeth. “Did you have any difficulty in obtaining the item?”
“Not at all. One of my partners—ex-partner, now—did try to object to us reneging on our ‘deal’ with Dok-Ondar, but I was able to convince him to… stay out of the way regarding that.”
“Excellent. I look forward to meeting you on Ord Talavos, Mr. Almor. I will have your reward waiting for you… as well as another job.”
Remar arched an eyebrow at this. “What kind of job are we talking about?”
“I will provide you with the details once you get here.” Drakmos made a small wave with his hand. “Have a safe journey, Mr. Almor. I will see you soon.”
With that, the dragon-like man’s image winked out of existence. Sharbrook let out a harsh growl from his throat as Remar leaned back in his seat.
“Can’t say I like the sound of that either,” he muttered. “We only agreed to do this one job for him, and that was only because he was offering more than what Dok-Ondar had promised us. Now he expects us to work for him full-time?”
Sharbrook responded with a rough bark.
“I know what kind of reputation these Cabal guys have,” Remar snapped. “I just didn’t think…. Like, I thought they’d be more like the Hutts, you know? Just a staple of the Outer Rim, kind of like what Black Sun used to be before they went kaput.”
The Wookie made a low whining sound. Remar sighed and he kicked up his legs onto the dashboard, letting the autopilot guide them through hyperspace.
“Look, let’s just play it by ear, okay? Who knows, maybe it’ll be a job that pays well enough so that we don’t have to take up another job ever again. Maybe we could finally get that private resort on Glee Anselm we’ve been wanting.”
To this, Sharbrook said nothing, though his silence was all that Remar needed to hear. The rest of their journey continued in this manner, with the two of them saying nary a word as they navigated the stars.
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