Chapter Forty One: Rebel

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-Note: THIS MIGHT NOT BE CANON. I DONT CARE IT'S A FANFICTION.-

Hux PoV

I touched down at Seveda. It was a suspicious looking planet, reminding me of Nal Hutta in all of the wrong ways. The air was thick with pollution and reeked with scents I would rather not describe. After making sure my ship was secured, I obtained a landing permit that would allow me to be a temporary citizen for two weeks.

I wore the gear I had used for Kylo and I's stint on Coruscant. I looked suitably bounty hunter like, I hoped. This guise would make it easier for me to gain the trust of this pilot should I need to talk. I had made sure to let my hair go unstyled and to let some stubble grow on my face. If I did not do that, I would look a little bit too clean cut for a bounty hunter. I had two blaster pistols, Westar 34 type, holstered to my thighs, and I had a knife tucked into my arm gauntlet.

My information said that Dameron was hiding out in a pub called the Black Sarlacc. Hardly a comforting name, but there was nothing in life worth getting that came easy. This would he no different. I was going to go in, hopefully establish some rapport with this Poe Dameron. That was all. I ha to take this slowly. If I rushed it, I would ruin the whole thing. I had to gain his trust, have him go outside with me, then I could kill him quietly and quickly. The threat would be neutralized.

I walked the dank streets of the lower city that dominated much of Seveda and housed ninety percent of its population. I found the pub and walked inside.

It was loud and smokey with foul smells emanating everywhere. Scantily clad females of many species sauntered around offering anything you wanted for a certain amount of money. In fact, I saw some rather attractive males doing similar things.

Focus, Hux, I told myself, find Poe Dameron. I knew what he looked like. He was average height, tan, had curly , black hair, and dark eyes. He probably would be wearing the typical orange flight suit common universally among pilots, as it was inconspicuous in the Outer Rim. Pilots came out here more frequently than anyone else did. He probably passed as a smuggler.

I spotted him sitting at a table in the back of the pub. He looked exactly like the image of him I had seen. It was Poe. I could not shoot him out in the open. I had to establish an easy acquaintance type of relationship with him. First, however, I had to figure out what he was masquerading as. That was easy enough to do casually.

"That guy in the flight suit back there," I whispered to the bartender as I ordered some Corellian whiskey,"who is he?" I affected a strong accent that was common in the Outer Rim, a hybrid of a Corellian drawl and a Mos Eisley tavern voice. My sophisticated way of speaking was a dead giveaway that I was no common hunter. Kylo had told me that on the way home from Coruscant. Even thinking about that hurt, but I pushed the emotions back.

"Who wants to know?" The Ithorian bartender grunted at me as he slid the glass.

I downed the whiskey in one gulp. It was fairly foul. Poor quality whiskey was a personal annoyance of mine. I paid the bartender grudgingly. That was not worth a penny. "I do. The name is Jacen Crise. I'm a freelancing smuggler and bounty hunter. Word is, he can help me out. Confidential of course." I slid some credits across the bar and winked at him.

"He's a pilot. Rumor has it that he's with the Resistance. You didn't hear it from me."

"Of course not." I smirked as I slid him some more credits. "Good doing business with you."

I sauntered back to Poe Dameron and sat down across from him. He looked at me suspiciously with a hint of wariness in his eyes.

"You're Poe Dameron." I looked at him coolly.

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