Chapter Text
Nar Shaddaa. The sleaziest, grimiest moon in the whole galaxy. Home to numerous crime syndicates, drug lords, and even the occasional cult. This city moon orbited Hutta, homeworld of the infamous Hutt Cartel. The crime-ridden districts on this moon were not unknown to the galaxy’s strongest governments. In fact, both had a huge network there. The Imperials with their Intelligence Agency and the Republic with their SIS. Both trying to get dirt on the other so they could get the upper hand in this unrelenting war.
The ‘pubs stationed many SIS agents in small alcoves all around Nar Shaddaa, wanting to know more about the Hutts and the Imps. They sent some of their best agents there to scout out the territory and make sure the Republic was protected from even the smallest of threats. Whether it be drug lords, the Imps themselves, or a lone information broker.
The latter being more significant to a certain agent.
An information broker. That’s who the SIS tasked one of their best agents with finding. One silly little person with enough basic knowledge to be able to get Republic secrets and sell them. At least, that’s all Theron Shan thought they were.
And that’s all she wanted them to think.
That “silly little person” was, in reality, an extremely capable and intelligent programmer who had the ability to get into almost any database, steal semi-important information and sell it to the highest bidder. In fact, that person was only 19 years old.
No one actually knew her name. She went by different nicknames that the people she stole from gave her. For example, the Republic called her ‘little mouse’ because of how fast she got in and out of their computers. The Imperials called her ‘pest’ merely because that’s all she was to them, although they would never admit how much damage she could have caused them. And then the Hutts called her ‘rodent’, yet again another derivative of the other nicknames she picked up. The fact of the matter was that she didn’t want the ‘pubs knowing she stole from the Imps, or the Hutts knowing she stole from the ‘pubs, or any variation. Frankly, she didn’t want anyone knowing who she truly was. If someone did they would either imprison her, use her skills, or just kill her. So, she remained hidden. In plain sight, to be quite honest. Though, Shan did not need to know that.
Tucked away between the Spice and the Holo-trees was a small SIS office with only seven or so agents and 5 guards posted around. Theron Shan did enjoy being an SIS agent, though his one complaint was always the number of people in each of his stations. They always annoyed the shit out of him and he worked way better alone. Though he knew he had to suck it up, it was his job after all.
Mumbling under his breath about the people and his assignment, Theron typed wildly on his padd, this information broker was a lot harder to find than he anticipated. And it was starting to get to him. Theron had hoped that this assignment was going to be quick. And much to the agent’s frustration, he had been in that office for almost six weeks trying to locate the little mouse as his colleagues liked to call them. Honestly, Theron didn’t like the name at first, but after having been attempting to find them for two weeks, it was beginning to grow on him since that was the only thing he could call them in his reports.
Theron heaved a heavy sigh and ran a gloved hand through his brown hair, spiking it even more. He leaned back in his chair and let out a silent scream to the galaxy saying how angry he was at this little mouse. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as silent as he had hoped and one of the other agents brought a chair over to Theron’s station.
“Still no luck, Shan?”
Said agent looked lazily at Jonas Balkar sitting beside him. Dark bags hung under Theron’s eyes due to lack of sleep and eating. “What does it look like to you, Balkar?” Theron sat up again and pulled up everything he had on the broker, which wasn’t much. “I’ve spent six weeks digging into every single lead out there on this damn mouse, plus everything the SIS already had on ‘em and I haven’t gotten even an inch closer!” Jonas sat back in his chair, a smirk hanging on his lips as he got ready to hear Shan’s pent up frustration explode out of him. “Six damn weeks, Balkar! And I’ve got nothing to show for it! Nothing!” He threw his hands haphazardly about him to show just how angry he was. “No one has been able to track them down. There hasn’t even been a single piece of info that tells me what gender they are. I don’t even know if they’re on Nar Shaddaa. They could be anywhere in the galaxy, laughing at my pathetic attempts at finding them, hacking into our databases, stealing our info…”
Theron’s voice died down to silence as a brilliant idea clicked in his mind. He practically threw himself at the computers and began typing again. Jonas stayed there as he worked, curious to see if Shan would actually be able to find the little mouse. He never told Theron, but he had been the one to pick out that nickname. It seemed fitting.
A quiet ‘ding’ resounded from the padd. “I got it,” Shan whispered. “I actually got it.” He stood up and transferred the location to his implants. “Balkar, I’m going alone. I’m going to the one to catch this little mouse once and for all.
Meanwhile in another part of the bustling city moon of Nar Shaddaa was yet another person typing frantically on a padd. Though this one was younger than the other, and she was not an SIS agent, that was for certain.
Black-painted nails danced over the many screens that littered your desk, your eyes scanning over every word that flashed on the screen, your enhancements and photographic memory made it very easy to keep track of what you were seeing and process it without having to stop and write it down. That was one of the main reasons you became a programmer in the first place. You had a rough childhood which made it necessary for you to get cybernetics for your eyes -- though you could barely tell, they were just a little metal dots right in the center of your iris to help you see-- while the ones on the side of your head were just to enhance your cognitive abilities. Cybernetics were beginning to become more common, but cyborgs with the implants you had were still rare and seen as different which had caused you to be the center of attention at many inconvenient moments. That had led you to become isolated. But one still needed money to survive, and you couldn’t stay alone and make money. Unless your profession was slightly illegal.
When you were younger you had an interest in computing so when you got older and more isolated you thought, why not make it into a living? At first, you made contracts with a few people, you followed the rules, but then you realized that wasn’t going to cut it. Living prices on Coruscant kept on increasing and the small jobs you were getting just weren’t enough to give you the life you wanted. So you moved to Nar Shaddaa. Everything was legal in Nar Shaddaa. That was when you decided to make the prices yourself. Get the jobs you wanted. And you had gotten the life you wanted as well. Away from people and more than enough money to last you a lifetime.
In fact, you could have retired last year, and yet here you were, still hacking into places you weren’t allowed into. Stealing info you weren’t allowed to see. Selling it to whoever gave you the highest price. And this one was going to be good.
Some Republic agent had left his account open, and the little mouse snuck right in. You chuckled to yourself. This was going to bring in a ton of credits. Whoever this guy was had a load of ‘pub secrets that would fetch a hefty price to the right people. In all honesty… it seemed too good of a catch. Something was off, but once you got started, you couldn’t stop.
The little mouse scurried past the obvious traps, not falling for the little pieces of crackers left to entice her.
She tiptoed across the broken floorboards, not getting a single toe stuck in the cracks.
Her nose picked up on a delightful scent. She was close.
She almost broke out into a sprint but caught herself. She had to be wary.
Right in front of her was the biggest hunk of cheese she had ever seen. And it was hers.
She cautiously walked closer and closer to it. This was it. This was going to be the day she got the main prize.
A single, small finger reached towards it, she just had to feel it, make sure it was real.
And then she fell right into his trap.
Your cybernetic eyes widened in disbelief as you saw a little tracker beacon pop up on the side of your main screen. This couldn’t be happening. No, no, no nononono. No.
You frantically began closing all of your screens, you even turned off your entire computer. But it was too late. You knew that. That kriffing agent knew that too.
“Shit, shit, shit,” You muttered as you hastily grabbed some essentials and shoved them into a bag. You had to leave. And fast. The agent was probably already in your building. How did this happen? How were you so reckless? You had gotten away so many times that you figured you were safe. You didn’t stop to think that someone might actually be able to outsmart you, outplay you. It was infuriating, to say the least. Humiliating even.
You dropped your bag as your computer burst into life, all your personal information getting downloaded into… something. You went over to it and tried to shut it down, to no avail. You then tried to trace who was downloading it and found that whoever it was… was right outside your door.
You reached under your desk and pulled out the blaster you had hidden there. You hugged it close to your chest and hid behind the door that led to your bedroom. You kept your breathing steady and quiet as the door to your loft opened. Footsteps echoed through your small house. Eyes closed, but ears alert, you waited for the agent to do something. Find you, leave, take your stuff, anything other than this waiting game you were both playing.
Then he spoke. You hadn’t heard another person’s voice without the background noise of a holorecording in a long time. It was strange, and yet… comforting almost. “I know you’re here. If you come out with no weapons, perhaps we can settle this without any violence. Deal?” His voice was rough, low, with a tiredness in it that reminded you of your father’s.
You took a deep breath and set the blaster down. He was right. Even if you didn’t like it, you knew deep down that this day was bound to come sooner or later. You had to face your fears. At least it wasn’t an Imperial Agent, or even worse, a bounty hunter. You knew the ‘pubs were a little more forgiving. They didn’t kill their targets on spot like the others did. Attempting to calm your racing heart you took a few more deep breaths and stepped out from your hiding place.
In front of you was a tall man in his early to mid-twenties wearing a red jacket, a blaster in his hands, though he lowered it once he saw you were unarmed. He had light brown hair spiked up in the front. The first thing you noticed was how he was actually quite attractive. The second… were his implants. He was like you…
The agent looked you up down the same as you did, eyeing the small cybernetics in your eyes and on your temples. You were like him…
He smirked. “I see now why they call you ‘little mouse’.”
This was bound to be interesting.