Author: Sam

Story: Bounty Hunt: 2 of ?

Series: n/a

Characters: Han Solo, Chewbacca, Samii (new).

Setting: An unnamed planet, sometime before Han joins the rebellion but after he dumps Jabba's goods.

Feedback: Yes, please? Especially constructive. samwise_baggins@yahoo.co.uk

Webpage: http://www.geocities.com/samwise_baggins/index.html

Han Solo stood, one hand resting on the butt of his blaster in a deceptively leisurely manner. The other hand lay on the edge of a water-stained counter in a backwoods pub that barely had a clientele, let alone a name worth remembering. The smuggler didn’t care where he was, actually, as long as it was not on the current watering hole list for the hundreds of men, women, and who-knew-what-else currently seeking the hefty bounty on his head. This place fit the bill nicely, even if the place was a dingy, smoke-filled rat’s nest… Han’s kind of place, actually.

He let the holo-message loop around to begin again as he waited for the gut-instinct warning bells to go off. As the viewer looped for a third time, he was still waiting. That disturbed Han far more than the message he’d actually received. In any other circumstances, at any other time, a message like this would have sent his sense of self-preservation kicking into overdrive. The very fact that it did no such thing now was in itself a cause for concern.

“If it makes you feel better, Mister Solo, bring your weapons. I will.” The soft voice trailed off once more as the holo-message once again looped to the beginning. Still, no warning bells, no gut instincts, not even one little squeak of self-preserving danger sense made itself known. Nothing. The chilling foreboding he should have felt never surfaced at all.

“I don’t like this, Chewie.”

A short bark followed by a complicated howl answered him. Actually, to most it sounded like a long, drawn out sound, but Han, having lived around one Wookie or another most of his life, could identify the individual notes and nuances that made up the Wookie dialect. He barely registered the guttural noises for what most heard, rather understanding fluently what his best friend was relaying to him.

“Well… actually, I was thinking on accepting his offer.”

Most would probably have recognized the answering yelp for what it was: indignation at Han’s stupidity… or callous sense of humor.

Han glanced up, a cocky half-grin twisting his handsome, rugged features. “Well, you don’t have to go. I can meet him alone.” He shook his head at the scathing reply of his co-pilot and best friend. “No, I don’t think it’s a trap.” Then, in some surprise, Han realized that was true.

He’d grown up relying on instinct and luck, more on instinct than luck actually, but both came in pretty handy in the rather dangerous world of smuggling. This time, nothing had internally clicked to signal that he should back away. He didn’t feel it was a trap, and that was intriguing, as the invitation had come directly from a bounty hunter.

True, Samii was a bounty hunter who was practically laughed at by other bounty hunters. He never got hired by the Empire, ever, and if his name even came up in conversation it was generally assumed that "Samii the Bounty Hunter" was an inept small-time bumbler who couldn’t fight his way out of a paper sack. Another rumor Han had heard was that Samii refused to do disintegrations, ever, end of conversation. What bounty hunter in his warped mind would refuse to make his own life easier with a bounty claimed on someone killed from a distance? As a matter of fact, as far as Han had heard, Samii didn’t kill his bounties at all. He never took bounties that required a killing, which was more than a bit off for a bounty hunter trying to survive in a universe of “kill or be killed”.

On the whole, though, this small-time bounty hunter with the odd personal code of conduct had managed to stay in the game long enough to have his name kicked around, even if it was half-joking. He stayed alive, he managed to collect bounties, and he was reported to never lose the bounties he did take. And now he was asking for a face-to-face meeting with Han Solo, a man with a bounty on his head so large, even the infamous Boba Fett had come after him.

Intrigued, Han looked back to the holo-message that had been delivered to him as soon as he’d made port, though he hadn’t gotten to watch it until the day after arriving. It was brief, to the point, and very disturbing in the sheer… innocence of it. Could a bounty hunter’s message be said to be innocent? With a frown, he once again listened to the words of the soft spoken, calm man with the hood hiding his features.

“Han Solo. I am called Samii, a bounty hunter. I have heard of the bounty for your life and wish to investigate the legitimacy of the claim. Please meet me at the Alma Ricon House at sunset the day after you receive this missive. I will be waiting to discuss matters with you. If it makes you feel better, Mister Solo, bring your weapons. I will.”

Once again, the message looped back to the beginning, but this time Han reached out and flicked the sensor to stop the pre-recorded message. He was aware of Chewbacca watching him in a rather disgruntled huff, and the Corellian turned to smile in his self-assured way. “Come on, Chewie. At least he’s announcing his intentions instead of sneaking up on me in the dark. I bring my weapons and you. We meet this guy, listen to his claims that he’ll bring in the notorious Han Solo, pat him on the head and leave him with the dinner tab. You’ve heard the rumors; "Samii the Bounty Hunter" is a joke.”

Chewie grumbled and growled, leaving Han shaking his head. “Oh come on, Pal. You worry too much. What kind of threat can he be? Even the Imperials won’t hire him, and they’ll hire any scum that comes along with a loaded blaster. He’s barely worth the time to talk to, but,” and Han straightened, slipping the message viewer into a leather pocket on his low-slung blaster holster, “We’ll get a free meal and a few laughs out of it. Let’s go.”

The Wookie followed him from the pub, grumbling the entire way, despite the obvious amusement Han had started deriving from the mere idea of meeting with this little known man.

The restaurant was in a nice section of the port; nothing ritzy, but not the typical place Han was comfortable in, either. It was the sort of restaurant where a droid waited on the customers and people didn’t have to pay by the mug. It was the kind of place one didn’t go to claim a bounty on a known criminal. That fact just added to the others piling up to pique Han’s curiosity.

Han wasn’t surprised when they asked him to check his weapon at the door. He didn’t like the idea but proceeded to hand it over and receive his receipt. At least Chewbacca would be there to add muscle if it came down to it, though Han hoped it didn’t. Now he was beginning to feel uneasy about the entire meeting; he looked around for any sign of the figure that had been in the hologram message.

He didn’t have to look for long.

At a table near the door, providing little cover but easier escape to Han’s wary mind, sat a lone figure dressed in beige. The trousers were loose fitting, tied from cuff to knee with binding chords of matching beige. The waist was fastened with a simple belt, no blaster holster visible, though the two long, fastened pockets on either thigh might easily conceal a weapon or more. The tunic was of an equally loose, comfortable looking material, made to breath in hot climates and protect in cold ones. A loose cloak with hood was draped around the shoulders, but the hood was down, revealing dark hair woven into tight plaits and pinned severely to her head, and attractive, human features, an oddly open gesture for a bounty hunter. The woman’s skin was as swarthy as his own. Something about her triggered the instant knowledge that she came from his home world of Corellia.

With a slight swagger to his step, habitual more than affectation, Han strode to the table, pulled out a chair, spun it around, and straddled it. He lay his arms across the back, leaning forward to watch the woman. There was no doubt in his mind that this was indeed the bounty hunter which had called him to the restaurant.

Chewie barked a concise greeting as he slid into the remaining chair. Only three chairs, Han noted, she’s definitely keeping informed. With a stretch, the large Wookie glanced over the smaller form of the female human, deliberately trying to make her ill at ease.

With a formal, gracious nod towards Chewbacca, the woman turned her attention on Han. She didn’t smile or flirt, something that secretly rankled on the good looking rogue. Rather, her voice and demeanor as calm as if she were sitting behind protective shielding and knew there to be no threat whatsoever, Samii spoke softly; her voice and speech betrayed the fact that she had been formally educated at some time in her life.

“Greetings, Han Solo. I am known as Samii.”

“So you said in your message. What do you want? If it’s the bounty on me, you won’t get it.” Han’s tone was equally casual, but held just a hint of steel.

She betrayed no emotion, her dark eyes apparently taking in everything about the man sitting before her. After a long silence, the woman placed a hand lightly on the table. Her eyes never strayed as she said, “I have heard of the bounty on your head for the murder of a powerful t'landa Til. Would you care to explain?”

Laughter erupted from the surprised smuggler, causing people to turn and stare. A cool glance from the bounty hunter, however, apparently cowed them into looking away. “Now, why do I get the feeling you’re not as stupid as you sound?” That hadn’t come out exactly right, but the way she’d stated her remark made Han feel, just for a minute, like he’d been back in that fancy school he’d gone to while scamming for the pirates.

“Because you are an intelligent and resourceful man. No one stupid survives in this profession.” She calmly moved her hand to lightly grasp the water glass at her setting. Lifting it, the woman took a long sip, letting Han take his time over the seemingly odd contradictions presented to him in the form of Samii. Finally, she placed the glass carefully back onto the table and looked at him once more.

Han nodded slowly. “Okay. Now I’m curious. Most bounty hunters are content to hunt me down, shoot at me, and hope to whatever they pray to that they can earn the reward. Why the dinner and conversation? What’s with the charade?”

“Charade?” Samii looked him directly in the eyes, and a sense of confusion swept over Han. “What you see,” she gestured smoothly with a graceful hand, “is what you get, Mister Solo. I am curious about the bounty and how it came to be. Most sources say that you killed someone; however, there are those very few sources that say you are not all you seem. I want to hear what you have to say then I will understand.” She paused, tilting her head ever so slightly, a habit which would be an endearing break in her calm façade at any other time. “I like to understand the bounties I take.”

A low sound reverberated from Chewie, but neither the woman nor Han moved. They sat there for a very long time, merely watching each other, each studying the other carefully, silently. It was a tense eternity that flew by as it dragged through minute after minute.

Finally, Han straightened, never lifting his eyes from hers, but conceding the moment. He began to talk. It wasn’t a polished story, and it wasn’t a pretty one, but Han found himself telling her the dirty truth of the matter, leaving out only his deeper interest in the slave he’d rescued while destroying a spice mine, an art collection, and, ultimately, a life. When he finished, it was Han’s turn to sip the water, and he found it surprisingly refreshing… clean after such an unclean revelation.

He tried to convince himself that he’d told her the truth to see what she’d do. He didn’t care what she thought, if she believed it’d been an accident. At least, that’s what Han told himself. He hadn’t embellished the tale one whit; he wasn’t trying to impress the slim woman. In fact, he thankfully felt not the least stirring of attraction to the pretty woman beyond what he felt for any attractive female passing in the streets. Yes, it was curiosity for her reaction that made him spill almost all, nothing else… but Han could only fool himself so far. The real reason he had told her the entire sordid tale was in the silently desperate attempt to find someone, anyone, who would believe him. Perhaps this woman from Corellia, bounty hunter that she might be, would do so.

The time ticked by, slower than before. The silence drew out until Han wanted to fidget in his chair, something he normally only felt when he was in extreme danger, yet that sensation didn’t accompany this restlessness. He sipped the water again, waiting for… what? Her approval? Her benediction? Her forgiveness? Those weren’t things she could give, nor did he truly want them. Her understanding, then. With an inward sigh, Han realized he simply wanted this calm, serious woman’s understanding of the very faults that made him human.

Finally, Samii stood, sliding a hand into her belt pouch and pulling out a credit marker. She placed it on the table next to Han’s water glass, then bowed politely in Chewbacca’s direction. Turning to Han, she offered him a serene smile. “Thank you, Mister Solo. I won’t be taking the bounty after all.” Then, surprisingly, the woman started to walk away.

Stunned, moving on instinct and overwhelming curiosity, Han’s hand whipped out, grasping her surprisingly small wrist. He tugged her back to his side, somehow feeling wrong about handling her, but wanting too desperately to have answers. He needed answers.

“What the hell? Now why would you do a thing like that? It’s a good bounty.” He didn’t know why he protested so heavily. After all, if Samii could be trusted, he now had one less person trying to hunt him down and trade him in for money “I…”

“I never hunt an innocent man, Mister Solo.” Her voice was as calm as it had been the entire evening. She never tugged her wrist away or made any sign of the discomfort she must have been feeling at his too hard grip on her. Rather, she merely lay her free hand gently on his shoulder and smiled softly. “Let me go, please.”

He found himself guiltily loosening his grip. “But, how do you know I’m not lying?”

With a soft, throaty laugh, Samii shook her head. “You aren’t. You may be a thief and a scoundrel, Han Solo, but a murderer you are not. Enjoy the meal, the credits should cover the both of you. Perhaps someday we’ll meet again.” She started to walk away again, then stopped and turned back to the confused smuggler. “On second thought; if you need me, just ask around for Samii. I should hear of it and come to your aid. I trust you will grant me the same honor someday.”

And with that odd statement, the bounty hunter walked out of the restaurant, never looking back at the puzzled Wookie and the flabbergasted Corellian she left behind.