By Fenn Logan

It was aptly named, for it stretched up and down in every direction for hundreds of kilometers. Afloat on the gentle winds held aloft by suspensor fields, it was as harsh and eclectic an environment as any along the borders of the Outer Rim Territories. It was a smugglers' haven, bolt holes for the scum of the universe to hide from unwanted eyes. It was also a black market on a scale not seen since the Hutts institutionalized criminal activity. The spaces between the artificial buildings of scavenged starship parts and machinery was filled with all manner of traffic, from cobbled speeder bikes to bulk freighters heading to destinations carrying what was certainly illegal cargo. And everywhere the eye looked, holographics flashed in patterns both lewd and suggestive. People scurried from shadow to shadow towards shadowy destinations. The smell of unwashed bodies, rotting meat and garbage from the countless slums infesting Nar Shaddaa swirled about the cobbled floating city like a living creature, vile and infective.

And through these dark and light spaces, ignoring tangled masses of traffic, sped something that was as much out of place as the person who flew it had been of this place in a past life. Sensors official and unofficial tracked its progress for a while, and then it suddenly vanished from their scopes.

Fenn Logan, encased in the matte black with crimson detailing flight suit and helmet of his squadron, Butcher, calmly adjusted power levels to keep his decoy beam projector active. It slowed the TIE Defender's speed somewhat, but all things being relative, that wasn't much of a handicap. The T/D was one of the fastest fightercraft in the Imperial or anyone else's navy for that matter. It was matched and exceeded only by the Missile Boat using its SLAM system.

Fenn, one eye on his inertial guidance map of Nar Shaddaa, the other following the intricate patterns of the local traffic, twisted his agile T/D, Iron Maiden through the incomprehensible tangle towards his destination.

He had not wanted to return to Nar Shaddaa. Not ever. But a loose string of his former life needed to be cut if he was to devote his full attention to the TIE Corps and the Dark Brotherhood with a clear conscience.

Clear conscience.

Fenn never considered he had any kind of a conscience beyond going and doing what his master of the Nar Shaddaa branch of the Black Sun criminal organization required of him. Be that breaking some being's legs for a debt past due, or wiping out a family transport with Iron Maiden as a warning to others who would seek to cheat Black Sun. As an enforcer, he was feared throughout the territories under the influence of Black Sun. Nothing could stand up to him in or out of his advance Imperial craft and he had made many enemies during his time as an employee of Black Sun.

However, now those enemies included Black Sun itself, simply because he chose to quit the organization. Hopefully this trip would rectify that situation. He was an Officer in the TIE Corps. A member of the Emperor's Hammer as well as a newly promoted Acolyte in the Dark Brotherhood. It was bad PR to have Black Sun as an obstacle to his career in the New Empire.

The TIE Defender twisted around a cargo skiff, twirling like the blades of some terrible shredding machine, then looped around another lorry to turn a corner sharply. His destination lay directly ahead.

The buildings around the obelisk slab of black marble and red quartz had been cleared for a kilometer around. There was very little traffic here and the T/D screamed from the noisome city into this clearing, heading for the ring of landing pads surrounding a slim tower jutting up from the massive main building.

Fenn did a flyby, close to the control module, decelerating, but still fast enough to crack the sound barrier, causing numerous beverage containers to topple their contents in various directions. More than one tower official suddenly leaped up with a scream as hot liquid was dumped in his or her lap.

Fenn didn't even bother with getting landing clearance, but simply stood his T/D on its tail and settled down to an empty landing pad. They were expecting him. Maybe not just now. But they had been expecting him ever since his resignation.

Fenn released the seals of his helmet with the pneumatic hiss of escaping air, and removed the life support connections from his flight suit. He went about setting the security protocols on his craft. His TIE Defender was high technology before the original Empire had collapsed, which was why he had at least half a dozen obvious security measures and a dozen more that were less apparent. Most of them were lethal.

"Security Protocols activated," the female computer voice announced softly.

Fenn nodded in satisfaction and activated his sensors. He smiled grimly. They were sending out one hell of a welcoming party. Fenn divested himself of the rest of his flight suit and retrieved a tiny control headset module from its compartment. He put it on and tapped the micro-thin mike curving along his jawline.

"Systems check 3321. Code Alpha Tau Alpha. Activate."

"Remote command control transferred to remote command device. Voice code activation initialized."

"Thank you, Moira," Fenn said.

'Moira' was a very unofficial artificial intelligent module programmed into the T/D's computer systems, in effect making it a sentient droid. What made it even more special was that it was the sentient imprint of his now dead wife. It had taken enormous effort and not a little spilled blood to obtain the personality imprint from the Bothan bio-thieves who had ripped it from his wife's dying body at the behest of the pirates who were responsible for his family's death. Pirates he had come to learn, also at great price, were under the orders of Black Sun.

No, it was no longer his wife, but a permanent monument to who she was.

When Fenn Logan clambered out of his T/D and sealed the hatch, he was clothed all in black: tallboots, trousers, form-fitting tunic and a long dustercoat that partially hid his stormtrooper rifle in a gravity drop holster. His primary weapon, an Imperial Repeater Gun, was slung off a shoulder behind him. His lightsaber hang from his belt on his left hip and he put on a pair of round-lens shades that were in fact HUD capable, connected to the headset, which in turn was running a live commfeed to Iron Maiden. Eyes a flinty shade of gray-green surveyed the landing pad. His non-regulation length chestnut hair was pulled tight against his skull into a tail that blew about his face in Nar Shaddaa's capricious gusts. A tiny scar split his left brow adding to his weathered attractive features. One could wonder how such a wholesome boy could have grown into a vicious Professional Thug/Hired Killer. And it could have all been said that it started the moment his 15 year-old fingers, grimy from living on the streets of Nar Shaddaa choked the life out of another street urchin who had attempted to steal his day's gathering of food. Fenn abruptly shook his head. Coming back to this stinking city brought back too many foul memories.

Fenn stepped off the tiny hatch lip of his standing T/D and floated down to the ground meters below on gentle breezes of the Force. If one thing was certain, he knew how to make an entrance.

Guards spilled from the control module of the landing pad, armed with various blasters and lasers. They had murder in their eyes. Fenn assessed them. 4 Weequays and 2 humans. Fenn's lightsaber leaped into his hand, it's glowing purple blade extending to its full 1.5 meter length with an audible hum.

The advancing force halted halfway across the landing pad and began to fan out.

"So what's this?" Fenn demanded. "Are you that petty that you won't hear me out?"

"Traitor," one of the Weequays hissed. "What could you possibly have to say that would interest Black Sun enough to hear you out?"

"Don't be stupid. If you run at me, you're going to end up dead."

Was that a flicker of fear in the eyes of one of the Weequay's companions? Fear in someone holding a weapon meant... The attacker, another Weequay, suddenly opened fire with his blaster and it was all that was needed to kick off the deadly firefight.

Reading his intention a second before the Weequay's finger even tightened on the firing stud, Fenn exploded into motion, the dustercoat billowing behind him like a black shroud. His first action was to flick his wrist at the fearful Weequay, even as amber bolts of energy flung towards his fleeing form. The lightsaber spun in a flat arc, decapitating the Weequay with the sudden stench of boiled blood and cauterized tissue. His head toppled from his body with a surprised look on his face. The body hit the landing pad with a heavy thud. Fenn's lightsaber was already back in hand and streaking towards a new target.

Fenn was moving laterally now, the repeater gun unslung and chattering streams of ionized energy at his other attackers. They were firing wildly now, many bolts passing harmlessly into spaces the pilot had quit milliseconds before. Another Weequay lunged into a backward flip, an arc of blood and shattered bone exploding from the ruin of his face.

The lightsaber severed the torso of one of the humans even as his blaster bolts smacked Fenn in the chest and shoulder, throwing him off balance. Fenn hit the ground in an awkward tumble, more energy bolts splattering around him. He lay flat on his back, the repeater gun bucking in his hands as he fired between his legs at another target. The Weequay staggered back, small explosions of cauterized tissue walking up his chest. He fell straight back with a sigh, his weapon clattering to ground beside him.

Fenn's lightsaber was back in his hand and this time he used it to deflect incoming fire, some of it striking back at the shooters.

Suddenly, a voice boomed from the control module's public address system.

"HOLD!"

Fenn's attackers froze, recognizing the source of the voice. He used the respite to rub his sore chest and shoulder, letting out several racking coughs. His tunic may have stopped the blasts, but the kinetic force of the energy beams still kicked like a maddened bantha. He finally stood and surveyed the carnage.

Three of the four Weequays were down as was one of the humans. In a span of less than 20 seconds, he had laid waste to 2/3s of his attackers. The stench of loosened bowels joined that of the regular rank smells drifting from the city beyond.

The double doors leading into the landing pad's control module rumbled open and Fenn remembered why they had to be wide doors.

The being that emerged from the control module was undeniable human. That being said, most people in their right minds would have voted him in as an Honorary Hutt. He must have massed at least a thousand kilos, his massive frame sprawled across a 3 meter floating throne. He was completely naked and hairless, glistening with oil all over his rolls and rolls of fat. Dark eyes, small and set deep within the fatty folds of his face stared out with a savage intelligence. He was accompanied by 6 Tandossian guards and a hulking apelike Noghri in partial chain and plate armor by the name of Shard. Fenn knew him well for they had been at odds with one another more than once. The Noghri was not to be taken lightly. The fact that he was here meant the fat man feared Fenn Logan's return and that tickled him greatly.

"Bayless," Fenn said slowly.

The fat man looked around him at the carnage. "By the bodies, I take it you are not here to rejoin my fold."

"No. I'm here with a warning."

Bayless's laughter was surprisingly deep. Most likely voice module implants. "Fenn, you were one of my best. Did I treat you so terribly?"

A muscle jumped along Fenn's jawline as he recognized what Bayless was trying to do and stamped on the sudden well of anger that threatened to explode. His back itched in remembrance of being tied to a metal frame and whipped by that very Noghri with a bantha hide cat-o-nine-tails studded with barbs. His back had been laid open to the bone and only his hatred for both the fat man and his pet killer had kept him alive while he healed without the benefit of a bacta tank. The heavy scarring on his back was permanent. He had been "disciplined" for a job gone sour. They would have destroyed his T/D if they'd known where it was at the time.

Fenn cocked his head, said, "I know it was you who had my family--my wife killed--"

"Fenn, Fenn," Bayless interrupted. "It was one of my rivals trying to get to me through you. They were aware that you were one of my best Enforcers and thought they could warn me off by attacking you. They have paid the price."

Fenn knew it to be a lie. The Force allowed him to know it, though there was no actual physical proof. Bayless smiled and Fenn's blood froze in his spine. Bayless didn't care whether or not Fenn knew who was ultimately responsible.

The first welcome party had purely been for Bayless' benefit to see how Fenn would react and most likely to find out just how deadly he'd become in his 2 year absence from Black Sun's employ.

Fenn knew what Bayless was trying to do. He also knew that the only thing preventing him from killing them all was Shard's presence. Fenn wasn't all that sure he could take the massive Noghri and he wasn't particularly eager to find out just yet. Shard had been a find. He was strong in the Force and completely loyal to Bayless. Another deterrent was the Tandossians. They eyed Fenn evilly with their concussion rifles half-raised, daring him to start something.

Fenn looked at them all, hatred seething and broiling, his head pounding as the Force swelled in him, begging for release. But then, he suddenly laughed.

That caught everyone, even Bayless off guard.

"One day, I'm going to kill you Bayless and won't be a thing you or your pet Noghri will be able to do about it. Then my friends are going to destroy what's left of you and this organization. You know, I don't even care what you have done to me and my family any more. It has all served a purpose and I probably should thank you. You're just a weak fat man trying to survive in Xizor's shadow. You think you have power, but that is dust in the wind compared to the Dark Brotherhood. And believe me, you do not want their attention focussed on you. See you around sometime, fat man."

Fenn deliberately turned his back on Bayless and his guards. "Moira, now would be a good time to put in an appearance," he said into his mike.

Bayless began to quiver in fury. Who was this street urchin to think he could spit obscenities at him? "Kill him! Kill him now!"

Fenn continued to walk away with his back turned, slinging the repeater gun. There was a howl of ion engines and Iron Maiden lifted off the pad.

The TIE Defender suddenly coming to life startled everyone into immobility and then they stayed that way, staring down the throats of 4 laser cannons, 2 ion guns and a pair of missile launchers. Fenn's voice, amplified by the Force, carried to Bayless and his people over the alien whine of the T/D's engines.

"I could kill you all right now, but you're not even worth the effort."

Fenn Force Leaped to the top of his craft and clambered into the hatch. He wasted no time storing his weapons and gear.

"Moira, keep the cockpit pressurized. I don't feel like getting back into my flight suit."

"Cockpit pressurized. Returning manual control to you. I take it you're not really worried about Bayless sending his star dogs after you?"

Fenn snorted. "Do I look worried?" He doffed his dustercoat, draped it on an instrument in the rear of the cockpit and climbed into his seat, flipping switches to bring instruments online. He strapped himself in and opened a comm channel.

"Okay Black Rancor Flight. I'm on my way out and I'll probably be bringing company."

"Roger that, El Tee. We're on the way."

© 9/2K Lee Birdine

Ya'll know the drill! All things Star Wars belong to George Lucas. I only lay claim to the original characters. This story does not intend to fringe on said copyrights and such.

FL/LT Fenn Logan/Butcher 3-1/Avenger Wing I/SSD Avenger
{IWATS}[XTT][XvT]CS-LoCx8/CoB[LANC]