The hunt. There was nothing greater in life when you stalk your prey through environment completely foreign to you. Where everything could kill you and you don't know where to go. What makes the hunt greater is when you get paid to do it.

The dull grey-coated pony wearing a dark brown leather jacket with blue jeans, white socks and black boots sprinted down the street and turned down one of the many side alleys trying to get away from what was chasing him. It was late in the night so he knew he could be killed and no pony would see it.

Upon entering the alley, he quickly took note of his environments. The alley was a dead end, with a two-metre wire fence blocking the way through to another street. Other than that, there were a few dumpsters on either side of the alley, and a set of rusting metal stairs and platforms running up to various residences on the right side. An orange lambda symbol was graffitied on one of the walls. There was nowhere his quarry, an earth pony (who was frankly not in good physical shape) could go. The pony let out a gulp and turned to run out but stopped as his ears perked up by the sounds of something coming towards him while his eyes widened.

"Oh no."

The dull, grey-maned earth pony scrambled trying to pull out the knife he had in his coat. Once he finally got hold of the handle he pulled it out just as a figure landed by the entrance and his only escape.

The pony gulped as he looked at the one who had been chasing him. The figure  had two shoulder pads which were orange, like his kneepads. The left shoulder pad exhibited  a skull logo while his right chest plate displayed an emblem of unknown origin. He wore a power armor liner. This liner shirt had a micro energy field projector and two layers of thin ceramic plates.. The power liner also gave him increased protection from fire, acid, intense heat, and cold. His main clothing was a reinforced armor mesh battle/flight suit. The inner lining of the suit blocked poisons and corrosives for a period of time. This suit had pockets on his hips and thighs. He also wore a leather utility belt that usually had ten leather pouches. Below this he wore a Journeyman Protector honor sash. Attached to his right shoulder were three braided Wookiee scalps. The battle/flight suit had pockets on his shins which contained an anti-security blade, a survival knife, a jet-pack adjustment tool, and a sonic-beam weapon. Fett wore spats around his ankles to help prevent debris from going into his boots. They were smaller than standard spats, were made of a light colored cloth and attached behind the ankle as opposed to under the boot. He also wore a pair of versatile boots that had two spikes attached to the front of each. The figure was also bipedal.

"Boba Fett." The pony spoke in fear as the figure walked closer to him. In his hand, he held an EE-3 carbine rifle, that was outfitted with a scope for sniping and a fast draw shoulder sling while also having hand grips going lengthwise down the barrel. The pony knew that he would be dead before he could even get close to Boba.

Boba continued to approach his target, taking his time as he slowly walked up to where the dun-coloured pony was scrambling backwards even as he pressed up against the end of a wall holding the knife out.

"Please don't do this." The pony begged which didn't work as Boba simply continued to walk toward him.

"Please, Boba. I have a family to feed. Just let me off. Let us off."

Boba was now standing almost directly over his ‘contract’, silhouetted against the dim moonlight that penetrated the depths of the alley. The pony swung his knife only to have it knocked away where it skidded across the ground. Boba then placed his rifle against the pony temple causing him to freeze up in fear. "Tell me where you hid the stash and I might consider sparing you."

Boba noted with some pleasure at the expected reaction. Smoke’s shoulders visibly sagged with relief and he let out an undisguised sigh. "Thanks, Fett. You don’t know what this means to me. Really—"

"Just tell me where you hid the stash." Boba interrupted while pressing the blaster closer to the pony head.

"It’s in an abandoned shed, three kilometers south-east from here. The combination from the lock on the door is five, eight, one."

"How do I know you’re not lying?"

The pony gulped as he watched Fett just stared down at him from beneath his helmet. "I swear!"

Boba just stared at him for a few more minuted and raised his blaster away from the pony. "I believe you."

The pony let out a deep breath of relief only for his eyes to widen as Boba grabbed him by the neck bringing him to his helmet. "If I find out you're lying...... I'm coming for you and your family."

The pony let out a gulp and nodded his head as he was dropped to the ground with Boba flying off with his jet.

Boba really was in a good mood. The contract had gone off without a hitch, even though it was only a low-risk and –pay ‘soft’ job. He had managed to conform to his employers’ wishes to retrieve their package while maintaining a minimal amount of violence. He preferred to keep his approach non-lethal.

This brought his mind subconsciously to the non-legal and non-moral quality of his line of work. At the edge of his mind, the ghost of a conscience still nagged him. He really hadn’t wanted to threaten his quarry, to see him in fear like that…but business was business, and he had to look out for himself anyway. Besides, nobody got hurt. Same can't be said for those wanted dead or alive. Mostly dead though.

Distracted by his musings, he almost missed the old shed Smoke was talking about. Landing at the door, he noticed with satisfaction and minor relief that there was a numerical lock on the door. At least he would not have to make good his threat regarding Smoke’s family. No matter how his career had become part of him, he did not want to take an innocent life, much less two or three.

What was the combination again? Five…eight…one…bingo! The lock opened with a clack. Boba swung the thin wooden door open on its rusted hinges. His eyes fell on the medium-sized cardboard box on the floor, its content of cigarettes, supposedly of legit brand names visible through a gap in the lid.  Good. Now there was only one thing left to do. Once securing the contents, he turned and flew off again.

Boba watched soundlessly from a rooftop, close to Smoke’s apartment through the scope on his rifle. He watched as the dull brown-grey pony approached his apartment with caution, unaware of Boba’s prying eyes. Smoke rang the doorbell and waited for a few seconds before a bright green filly threw the door open and jumped into his arms joyfully.

Returning the gesture with a hearty laugh, Smoke entered the house and closed the door, locking and latching it. He sat down on the couch and called out to somepony out of sight. Boba changed his viewing position to an open window on an adjacent wall.

A mare  appeared and hugged Smoke tightly. Boba in contemplative silence watched as Smoke conversed with his wife, head hung low, about tonight’s events. Boba saw she had dark yellow fur with a white mane. She was wearing a blue dress that Boba thought went all the way down to her knees. All he could was just their upper bodies.

"They sent someone after me tonight, and I had to tell him where I hid the stuff."

The mare simply looked at him lovingly and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

"It’ll be fine. We’ll get through this. It’s about time for us to live clean anyway, for the foals’ sakes…"

The couple sat by each other, their mutual love and trust breaching the wall of physical silence between them. Smoke sighed deeply, momentarily just another stallion with a huge burden and no way of shouldering it.

"He threatened me, you know. He threatened to go after you and our kids if anything wasn’t right. Maybe all of you should just go somewhere safe and wait this out."

Boba felt his guilty conscience become a little more noticeable in his mind and cringed. Every job had a negative factor. 'Business is business.' he thought to try to clear his conscience from guilt.

Smoke’s wife placed a hand on his cheek, gently guiding his line of sight until their eyes met.

"Do you remember when you first told me about your job, and why you didn’t want to make commitments? Like I said then, no matter what happens, I want to be right here with you. We’ll face this together."

Boba broke off his gaze and edged away from his viewpoint, mulling over the outcome of the situation. Part of him was glad that he hadn’t caused any permanent damage to the family, but there was also disgust. Disgust that he had pursued the matter to its end, disgust at his blatant excuse of an attempt to be responsible for his actions, disgusted that he was so soft. Two long years and he still couldn’t come to terms with this job. It was a weakness, and it caused him to scorn himself to the very core. At the same time, this was an easy way to earn bits.

It was all very confusing, as emotions always were after the incident's, so he simply pushed it aside, save the personal compromise of an exasperated sigh and a wistful, longing glance into the distance, where the moon perched itself on a faraway mountain range as he flew off. Next Chapter: Chapter Two Estimated time remaining: 1 Hour, 9 Minutes