Hi there! My name's Alice and welcome to Danny and I's first story! I'm terrible with introductions, so I'll make this short. We don't own Star Wars or else I would have kept Obi-Wan Kenobi alive still... And Barrett Vance and Nina Samson are our two OCs. I will be writing for Nina, and Danny for Barrett. Thanks for taking the time to read this, and we both hope you like it!

The sandy, desolate deserts of the barren planet Tatooine were known to hold some of the most popular cantinas in the galaxy. From the half-naked women who served travelers searching for a drink, to the exciting music, cheap labor, and the multiple different jobs that some offered around there, everyone enjoyed it.

That is, except for Nina Samson.

She worked at the quite popular Mos Eisley Cantina under the ownership of a good-for-nothing Wookie named Chalmun, and his handsy sons and business partners. To be honest, she felt she looked about as appealing in it as the bowl of mush she was served every day. Yet, the men that seemed to flock towards her were undeterred at her appearance.

And today was no better.

While the uniform consisted of something to cover her upper body and lower body, Nina felt more naked than the day she was born in the slimy cantina as she pushed through the hoards of tipsy men with wandering hands and eyes. Her torso was bare to the entire public, and her smooth, creamy-skinned legs were only covered by a small pair of black leggings, short enough to barely cover her.

"Chalmun," She remembered asking her owner on the day she was handed this. "What do you expect me to do with this?"

The Wookie had smirked at her, crossing his furry arms. "Get some more tips. I need a few new tables in the back, and you know how much they love a girl in uniform…"

Disgusting. Absolutely, wholeheartedly disgusting to Nina.

"Another round over here, wench!" Someone called from one of her tables as she held onto a platter with a dozen drinks toddling atop it. "And make it snappy!"

She rolled her grey eyes, pushing past the other slaves who worked at the Cantina with her and towards her table. "You got it."

If only I could slap them, at least once… She thought to herself as she spread another fake smile across her face and walked towards another table, winking to a few different men and passing out the different drinks around the table before disappearing towards the bar once more.

"You're picking up Thinelda's tables tonight, right, redhead?" She heard her owner call from behind her as an arm snaked around her stomach, the hand reaching towards her opposite hip as she looked into his wooly face.

A thin smirk was plastered over his face as Nina sighed quietly before nodding up at her master.

Laughter deep enough to shake the ground beneath her roared from the man as he released his grip from her, sliding her top down a tiny bit to expose more of her nonexistent breasts. "Get back out there, girl!"

Anger bubbled inside of the girl as she felt heat fill her palms. She felt this before, and whatever came after always got her in trouble, no matter what…

Uh oh…

"My, my, what a nice young lady, boys…" A salty voice that froze Nina's skin spoke as she neared the table she had been called to earlier, pulling her top back up to at least attain an air of modesty.

She turned to find a member of one of the gang rings that Chalmun was involved in, grinning back at her with his eyes in thin slits. His thick, greasy hair that reminded her of the oil they put in some racing pods and even thicker middle section was altogether a sight that almost made Nina gag.

"Hey there, big guy." She replied, batting her eyes nice and big. "What can I get for you?"

His face curled into an even creepier smile, a thick hand reaching out towards her thigh. "How's about we slip away from this dump and back to my pod for a little bit? I got a nice big backseat for the two of us to get to know each other a little better…"

Nina fought the urge to vomit.

"You'll have to get through my master first, mister…" She breathed, dodging the dirty hand that was diving for her thigh. "Anything to drink though?"

His face turned into a deep scowl as he recoiled his hand, folding it into a fist and pounding the table. "What's the big idea, you little bitch? Come back here!"

Another hand darted out and grabbed her thigh this time, squeezing it between his fingers as tight as he could. Nina cried out a tiny bit, her eyes tearing up. Her hand swatted the other calloused one away, though he barely made an effort to let go.

"Hey, why don't you let go, big guy." She mumbled, as another hand snaked around to grab her other hip. "And let me get you another drink on the house."

Free drinks, Chalmun had said when the men got too rowdy. Free drinks will get you anywhere in the world, and especially out of another man's grasp.

"How's about we get out of here tonight?" The man replied, his hand creeping farther and farther towards her crotch. "I got a nice room at the local inn for the two of us…"

"Hey!" Her Wookie owner called out to the two from behind the bar. "No touchin' the help! They're just for the view, not for you!"

She tried to shake off the two hands once more as Chalmun began to emerge from behind the counter. The man stood, holding Nina within his filthy hands even tighter. She could feel the beginning of bruises under his hands.

"Nah, this bitch is mine for the evening." He replied, the hand that was on her chest now grasping at her braid down her open back.

Nina squeezed her eyes shut as she felt the hand grasp her ass once more. "Let go, you asshole…"

She was pulled back as the Wookie reached forward, her head slamming against one of the tables in the tavern, and her world beginning to spin. An elbow slid around her throat as she felt the air in her chest began to leave her.

Slowly, her eyes melted into blackness as she heard screaming and yelling around the cantina. The quiet call of a voice in the darkness sang her to sleep.

"Nathalia, Nathalia… Come back to me, my dear…"

Last job, Barrett. This time, for good.

That little voice in his head started talking again. That little voice that always said this time was the last time. That after this, he could get away from the turmoil and the trouble running amok in the galaxy, that he could buy an island on Spira and go into permanent retirement. Or maybe live on Aquilaris and watch pod-racing for the rest of his life. Hell, maybe even head back to Coruscant and buy a penthouse suite at the top of a tall skyscraper.

But that was never the case. Ever. All the credits he earned, the reputations he garnered, the stress he suffered, nothing could convince Barrett Vance to give up the smuggling life he had made for himself. He couldn't help it. The call of adventure, the profits made off shady business, the close calls and shootouts with Imperial soldiers or ruthless pirates, all of it was far too attractive. Why should he ever want to give it up? Sure beat life with the Black Suns, always taking orders from some faraway "prince" and getting paid meager wages for pretty dirty work. But smuggling independently? One could get a couple hundred creds for hauling one crate of spice. The most Barrett had ever hauled was fifty tons. He still hadn't spent all the money he made off that deal with the Hutts of Nar Shaddaa.

"You're gonna have to wait, pal. This ain't ending anytime soon."

A whistle entered the smuggler's ear.

"Oh, no, Jeight, just talking to myself." The astromech droid next to him had just unplugged himself from the navigation computer since they dropped out of lightspeed over Tatooine. Barrett took the controls and piloted the freighter into the desert world's atmosphere. Before his eyes lay the Jundland Wastes, its dry canyons and sandy rocks basking in the heat of the two setting suns. A herd of bantha accompanied by a contingent of Sand People lumbered through one of the gorges below. A few moments later, the structures of Mos Eisley rose from the sand. Jeight beeped and squeaked with relief.

"Yep, we're here, Jeight. Mos Eisley. Armpit of the galaxy."

As Jeight took control of the ship and began to land it in Docking Bay 95, Barrett went back to the central room of the Ghtroc 720 freighter and started up the holocommunicator, hoping to reach his Rebel contact to receive further information.

"Captain Vance, do you read me?"

"Loud and clear, Borgan. I'm landing in Mos Eisley as we speak."

"Good to hear. Now, your target is Nathalia Samson. Female human, seventeen years of age, working in a cantina owned by a Wookie named Chalmun."

"That name sounds familiar."

"It should; he's one of the richest men in the city. Runs the most popular cantina in town. He and his sons run a tight business and have protection from local mercs, so no one can touch him."

"You said the girl was working for Chalmun?"

"Well," Borgan sighed, "not exactly. The girl's a slave."

"Don't you know what happens when slaves leave the planet's orbit, Borgan?" Barrett replied, anger rising in him.

"Yes, yes, the chips in their bodies explode, killing them, I know. Fortunately, we thought of that before you left. The device I gave you back on Nal Hutta can generate an electromagnetic pulse which will render the chip unable to function."

"How do I know this thing will work?"

"Well, it worked against state of the art chips implanted into Wookies enslaved by the Empire. I'm sure the chips on Tatooine are far less complicated and, therefore, easier to crack."

Barrett removed the device from his belt. It looked a lot like a comlink, but after punching in the authorization code, it emitted a static electric shock. Rebel ingenuity at its finest.

"Alright, but how am I going to get the girl?"

"After you exit the Docking Bay, a protocol droid will be waiting for you with currency sufficient enough to purchase the girl from her master. If he refuses to sell, you'll have to come up with… An alternate solution. And after hearing about your incident with the Imperials on Corellia, let's just say we can trust you to get the job done."

"How will I know the protocol droid? There's a lot of them around here."

"Can't miss it. Thing's got bug eyes and silver plating. I'm afraid this conversation has to end, or else the Empire may trace my signal. Contact me when the job is done. Lieutenant Borgan, out."

Well, this has clusterfuck written all over it.

Barrett retrieved his long coat and checked the power packs on his DH-17 blaster pistol. On Tatooine, one must be ready for anything, especially trouble. And a mission like this could only end in trouble. Slipping his gun into its holster, he strode towards the airlock ramp and out onto the sand. R2-J8 rolled down, squeaking and ready to go.

"Jeight, I need you to stay with the ship," Barrett said, patting his co-pilot on the dome. He made a whining noise. "Hey, don't be like that. For all you know, some stormtroopers or some gangsters may try and take the ship, like that arms deal gone south on Corulag. You fended off the bad guys with the blaster cannons and gave me the cover I needed to get back on board… I have a funny feeling this job'll be similar. I need you to do this, buddy. Trust me."

Jeight whistled low, bleeped once, and rolled back up into the Gorskin. Barrett chuckled, always admiring his headstrong little droid's enthusiasm, but this mission could only be done alone. Besides, the last thing he needed was for R2-J8 to wander off and get kidnapped by some Jawa for parts. That already almost happened once before in Mos Doba.

Even at this hour, Mos Eisley's streets were quite busy. Night time was a popular time to visit the local cantinas and casinos, and that same general feeling of scum and villainy pervaded the area. Barrett looked around for the bug-eyed droid, finally spotting it by an empty market stall across the dusty road. He moved cautiously, not wanting to attract too much attention, but everyone was in such a hurry to get to where they were going that no one really took particular interest in the dark-haired, stubbled, and tanned spacefarer. In fact, there were several people who looked quite similar wandering around town. The droid must have noticed that this was his contact as he shuffled forward stiffly to meet him.

"I thought you'd be taller," It said casually.

"I thought you'd be prettier, so I guess we're both disappointed."

"Heh, whatever," The droid responded. His voice was unlike the typical "yes, master" voice most protocol units possessed. He was more quick, crude, and sardonic. "Name's 21-LOM. Our mutual friends call me Lom. Cantina's on the north side of town, filled with all kinds of lowlives. At least, that's all I could see before that hairy fella threw me out. 'No droids,' he says. Pfft. Bigots."

"Did you see the girl? Nathalia?"

"Yeah, I did. She was bussin' tables and servin' drinks, from what I could tell. Dressed real skimpy too, even though there's not much there, if you catch my meanin'."

"Who the hell programmed your personality matrix, Lom?"

"Someone who wanted to add a little more personality to me than the other blind tin can servants all you other species've got running around washing your speeders and dusting your furniture. Needless to say, it's classified," Lom's illuminated photoreceptor flickered on one side, almost making it look like he winked. "Anyway, the job. From what I hear, a good slave is worth about as much as a good podracer, and so I've got fifteen thousand credits for you. Now if the Wookie is reasonable, which he isn't (but maybe you could convince him), you shouldn't have to use all of it. Odds are he'll ask about ten, that is, if he's willin' to sell. If that goes south, well, looks like you'll have to use that fifteen for something else and bust the girl out in true gunslinger fashion. Dig?"

"Sure, Lom."

"Alright. Creds are in there, champ," Lom indicated a crate in the market stall. "Don't let me down, kid. May the Force be with you."

Credits in hand, Barrett wandered through the dark labyrinth of streets, alleys, and thoroughfares, keeping an eye out for Chalmun's Spaceport Cantina. He knew the way, having been there dozens of times before. He probably had gotten a drink from this Nathalia girl once or twice in the past. Walking past the wreckage of the Dowager Queen, Barrett noticed a few shady looking individuals being shaken down by a group of soldiers in shiny white armor. Stormtroopers. Last time Barrett was here, the Imperial garrison was not very big. Clearly, things had changed a bit. More stormtroopers patrolled the streets, and loudspeakers had been set up at certain intersections. He assumed they were for alarms or something. As he neared the cantina, a message boomed out across the town.

"Attention, Mos Eisley residents. By order of Moff Kas, city-wide curfew will be imposed in one hour," A regal voice announced, his aristocratic accent booming across the settlement. "All civilians are ordered to stay in their quarters until one hour before sunrise tomorrow. Any civilians found outside during curfew without proper security clearance will be arrested and imprisoned. Resisting arrest will result in deadly force. Again, curfew begins in one hour. Glory to the Empire."

Well, shit. Now I've got one hour to get her out of here and back to the ship. This should be fun.

Bustling was not the right word to describe Chalmun's tonight. More like teeming. Seemed like every species had a representative here in this scoundrel's version of a Galactic Senate. Rodians and Grans, Chadra-Fans and Zabraks, Ithorians and Klatooinians, Twi'Leks and Duros, and so much more; all the galaxy's spacefaring species were assembled in this bar tonight. Barrett surveyed the area, unable to find the girl or the Wookie amidst the crowd. Sighing, he wandered over to the bar. Ackmena was working, cleaning out a glass while chatting with a Devaronian patron. She ended the conversation when she noticed another customer approaching.

"Wet your whistle, hon?" Ackmena asked with a smile. She did not seem to recognize Barrett, which was no surprise to him.

"Corellian Twister," He replied, placing a coin on the counter. The woman took it, then disappeared for a moment. Figrin D'an and the Modal Tones were playing their hit song "Mad About Me", a local favorite. A few alien couples were dancing in an area before their stage. Barrett's eyes wandered across the bar as he took a sip of his drink, satisfied with the slight burning sensation it produced while trickling down his throat. Finally, he spotted Chalmun working on the other side of the bar. Drink in hand, Barrett rose from his stool and made his way through the crowd of patrons, careful not to bump into anyone. On Tatooine, one accidental touch could mean a whole lot of trouble.

"Chalmun," Barrett called while squeezing past a pair of Quarren. Succeeding, he sat in an empty stool near the Wookiee. "Chalmun, right?"

"Yeah. If you want trouble, get out. If you've got any complaints, get out. If you want a drink, pay up." The Wookiee growled.

"Actually, I'm here to -"

"Just a minute, buddy," Chalmun said before calling at one of the patrons in the back, "Hey! No touchin' the help! They're just for the view, not for you!"

"Nah, this bitch is mine for the evening!" Barrett turned to look at the man who responded, but his eyes widened when he saw the girl clutched in his grasp.

It was her. Nathalia Samson.

"Stay here, boy, and get your blaster ready, trouble's coming," Chalmun muttered before nodding to two tough looking Weequay in the corners of the bar. They grabbed blaster rifles hidden behind their seats and prepared for the worst. Chalmun rose and approached threateningly, the patrons clearing a path for him. The man holding Nathalia threw her behind him, then followed her to the ground. Chalmun went to get him, but his advance was stopped by a group of similarly dressed men, a smorgasbord of humans and nonhumans alike. A tall Nikto, nearly Chalmun's height, stood in the front.

"I think we'll be taking this pretty girl off your hands, Chalmun."

"She's not for sale, Urghek."

"Not even for-"

"No. Sale."

"Well, then, that's a real shame. Boys, fry 'im!"

A vicious-looking Trandoshan pulled a pistol from his belt, but the shot that followed prevented him from firing. He dropped dead and all the gangsters looked at Barrett, his pistol smoking. He dropped behind the bar as three more blaster bolts whizzed past. Thankfully, it was just the distraction Chalmun needed to get into a grappling contest with the Nikto. The Weequay mercenaries and a couple loyal patrons joined the fight against the gangsters, but most everyone ran for cover or out the exit. Blaster fire filled the room, and a few unfortunate individuals who were not involved got cut down by the crossfire. The gangsters were firing indiscriminately, hitting civilians and Chalmun's men alike. Bright red flashes filled the room as men on both sides fell. More of Urghek's mercenaries flooded in from the back door, knocking over tables to use as makeshift barricades while Barrett and a few more patrons fired on them.

He looked back to where Nathalia was, her captor still beside her. Her eyes were closed. Barrett inhaled sharply, wanting to run over to that scum, put a few bolts in his head, and get her out of here. But the smuggler held his ground. He would be dead in a minute. The gangsters were still focused on him and his fellow patrons, laying down a good deal of heat. More of Chalmun's guys were falling then Urghek's.

Come on, give me one shot. One distraction good enough to get her.

"Look out! Stormtroopers!"

Barrett turned and witnessed a squad of armored Stormtroopers swooping into the room, opening fire on the gangsters. Barrett had his opening. While the gangsters focused on the soldiers, the smuggler swiftly dove over a table and landed next to Nathalia's captor. He howled, swinging his gun around, but Barrett beat him to it. Two shots later, he was flat on his back gasping for air with punctured lungs.

His raping days are done.

The girl. Nathalia. Barrett cradled her with one arm while he checked her pulse. Still alive. He retrieved the device Lieutenant Borgan had given him, punched in the authorization code, and found the area where her chip was implanted. Back of the neck. Standard procedure. The scars were barely noticeable, but nonetheless, he knew this was where it was. He touched the communicator to her neck and heard the click of the static electricity. The gunfire was beginning to die down. Barrett had no choice. He had to leave.

Now.

Scooping her up over his shoulder, Barrett made his way towards the back door, where the last of the gangsters had fled out through. A Stormtrooper stood guard while the rest of his comrades were making arrests, pursuing the fleeing suspects, or interrogating witnesses. An officer in a grey uniform was talking to Chalmun, who had successfully beaten Urghek not long before.

Good, he's busy. Time to go.

"Halt, where are you going?" The stormtrooper asked, blocking the door.

"Please, it's my sister, she was attacked by those gangsters, I need to get her to a doctor." He lied quickly, eyeing his ship in the distance.

"We have a medic here who can treat her. Besides, our officer would like to ask you a few questions."

"No, you don't understand, I need to-"

"Boy!" Barrett froze. Chalmun's roar echoed throughout the establishment. "What are you doing with my Nina?"

Everyone's eyes were on Barrett. Quickly he started analyzing the room. The back door was the only way out, but he'd be shot down if he just tried to run. He'd have to kill the trooper beside him, but he needed to find the light switchboard… His amber eyes moving frantically, he laid eyes on what he figured were the light controls. No choice. He had to act now.

"That girl's my property. Don't you even think of-"

Barrett drew and fired quickly at the Stormtrooper blocking his way. That armor stood no chance against the bolt at point blank range. Turning quickly, he shot the at the light switchboard. It crackled and fizzed, killing the lights and enshrouding everyone's view. Barrett ran out the back door as fast as he could while blaster fire chased him. Shooting the door's control panel, it slid shut behind him, ensuring he wouldn't be followed too closely. Barrett moved as fast as he could with another person over his shoulder, putting as much distance between Chalmun's and him as possible, hightailing it to Docking Bay 95.

He had to stop. This much running was too much for him. He found an abandoned shelter and managed to hotwire the door open. It was small and cramped, but it would do for a few moments. He set Nina down, placing her back against the wall on one side of the room, once again checking her pulse. Still alive. Breathing heavily, he slid down a nearby wall till he was sitting on the ground, closing his eyes and reaching for his canteen on his belt. Water never tasted quite as sweet. Relaxing for a few more moments, Barrett's eyes opened as the girl began to stir from her unconsciousness. But, his heart sank when an announcement rang out across all Mos Eisley.

"Attention, Mos Eisley residents. Curfew is now in effect. Remain indoors, or face arrest by Imperial authorities. Glory to the Empire."

Well, things just got a lot more complicated.

It's Alice again! We both hope you enjoyed our story! The next chapter will be published in a week, depending on our schedules. Don't forget to favorite, follow, and review if you liked it! May the Force be with you this holiday season! :)

Alice, out!