Seated within the Glorious Jewel of the Hutts, the Winter Palace is situated on a remote island near the planet’s equator. Although blanketed with the pollution from Hutt industry, its location makes the climate hot and humid. Surrounded with trees and vines, it could be considered to be a paradise, even among the barren wasteland of Nal Hutta. Outside of the Winter Palace, a network of sewer pipes transfer the waste from the palace to wherever seems far enough to dump into the oceans surrounding the island. Flora and fauna that have adapted to the Hutt’s environmental changes thrive in the polluted forests surrounding the Winter Palace.

Stepping through its gilded gates, the lavish interior serves as the main audience chamber. Once belonging to the wealth of Jiliac Desilijic Tiron, the gleaming stone of the main aisle leads up to a Hutt’s dais lined with an expensive carpet. Beautiful tapestries line the high walls, telling of the sordid histories of those who woven them, awaiting execution in Jiliac’s dungeons.

Finally, the antechamber to the "throne" room is illuminated from above with high-skylighted ceilings. Constructed from lightly colored stone, the antechamber might have been where the late Hutt entertained his guests before an audience with spice and exotic dancers. In the hands of the Hutt Kajidics, however, these traditions have continued as the Winter Palace now serves as a front for criminal and business ventures that come and go.

Alana Mistar stepped inside the Hutt’s Winter Palace. After many back and forth, she had finally gained access to visit their library. How the Hutt’s had collected such a vast array of transcripts, she would be better off not knowing, but the fact was that they were currently in possession of a very old Rakata scroll, which the Hapan woman was more than excited to lay her eyes on.

As she was leaving the library, she crossed the main hall of the Winter Palace. It was emptier than usual, but it was late, so she didn’t fuss too much about it. Going down the stairs, she saw a very tall figure, standing menacingly between her and the exit.

“Excuse me.” She said, trying to get past him.

She diverted her path to the right, which the man mimicked. Alana hit her head on his hardened chest. Adjusting her glasses, the woman took a step back.

“Can I help you?” she questioned.

Instead of an answer, the man gestured with his hands, doing precise movements. Alana recognised them to be sign language. However, she wasn’t versed in it, only understanding odd and easy words.

“Hold on a second.” She put on her Brotherhood-issued Collegium Translation Visor. “I’m pretty sure this thing can convert sign language to written text.”

She fiddled quickly with the settings of the device and found what she was looking for. “There we go! Can you please repeat?”

With a deep breath, the man obliged. He did the same movements as before. The words quickly appeared on the visor.

ARE YOU ALANA MISTAR

“I am…” Alana was weary of him now. “How do you know that?”

He did some signs again.

I’VE BEEN SENT TO TAKE YOU. PLEASE COME WITHOUT RESISTING

“Wait, what?!” She did not understand what was going on. “Why am I being… hunted? Targeted? What have I done wrong?”

Instead of signing, the man showed her a datapad with relevant information written.

She read it quickly with her trained eyes. As she did, her expression went from confusion to understanding, to disappointment.

“I swear… That man is worse than Rancor’s poodoo.” She lifted her head to face the much taller man. “Look, I know he may be my husband, but I have no say in what he does for a living. I don’t even know where he is half of the time and when he’s with me, he’s on a tight leash, so I can’t be held accountable for my husband’s shady deals, alright? Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to leave this planet today.”

She once again tried to get past the very large man, but he extended his arm, swooping her off her feet with one sweep, but remaining careful enough not to hurt her. Like it was nothing, the Nautolan put Alana over his shoulder and started moving away from the Palace.

“Hey, big guy! Put me down!” she yelled, trying to fight her way out of his steady grip.

With her only free hand, Alana reached for his neck, pinching it with precision on a nerve. It sent a quick jolt over the Nautolan’s body causing him to drop her on the floor.

Before he could catch her again, the Hapan woman darted away from him, back inside the Palace.

“I’ve dealt with big guys like you before! In fact, I know one just as tall as you and he’s never won a fight against me, ha!” The small and sly woman ran as fast as she could.

But to no avail. The Nautolan’s much larger legs and good physical form meant he caught her in less than five steps.

Alana found herself snagged up again like a sack of meilooruns in seconds.

Gilt and glitter, fine objects and elaborate architecture, all passed before her eyes— inverted. Struggle though she did, her kicks seemed like no more than an annoyance to her captor, like buzzing bugs, and quite soon her thrashing was awarded with a huff she felt more than heard and before she was unceremoniously dropped.

Not to the floor; only down another foot or so, so that his grip was around her knees, not her waist. The effect was probably the most undignified position she'd ever been in, which was saying something, as her kicks were completely arrested and her leverage to lift her torso utterly disappeared. She was left dangling upsidedown with her face smacking into a duracrete thigh and hard, bruising pieces of equipment on a gun belt every single step. Her glasses and visor pressed painfully into her facial bones each time, hurting much more than the jostling itself.

There weren't any more good nerves to pinch at her new angle, if she could even reach them. Alana nonetheless twisted at the hips, balling one fist and thumping it wherever she could. She debated shouting for help, but the antechamber had been fairly empty. Where was he taking her? Why back into the Palace?

Was whoever wanted Aru for this working here?

Desperate, the Human thought of her friend, just as large as this man, who she'd never lost to. Truthfully, it was because Sage wouldn't hit a woman. But maybe this man had some principles too! Everyone had something they cared about, some good in them.

"Hey, please," she began, terribly out of breath due to hanging towards the carpets. "Listen! We do the best we can. He's not perfect but I love my husband a lot, we're family, he and his brother, we're a team! Please don't take me from them. I was just here to study. Please. Are credits really worth that?"

The Nautolan didn't break stride, though she got another huff. That had to mean something!

"Isn't there anyone you love? How would you feel if someone took them from you?"

A single missed step. That's all she got, just one little stutter. But it was enough.

Alana dropped the datapad and reached for the holstered pistol under his raised arm. Her fingers scrambled to pull it out, but it was buckled into place in the holster securely. She was trying to undo those buttons when her captor rumbled and twisted, using his free hand to slap hers away. But the shift in angle was just enough for her to wiggle free, sliding down his back the rest of the way and to the floor in a triumphant tumble.

Scrambling to her feet, the woman spun around instead of trying to run this time. As she did, she drew her own blaster, her arms lifted straight like she'd been taught, one hand over the other. The scowling Nautolan turned around and stilled to see the barrel pointed at him, barely three feet away.

"Don't make me do this, I really don't want to hurt you, I just want us both to go home, to the people we love," she tried one more time.

The man twitched forward. Alana closed her eyes, inhaled hard, and squeezed them trigger.

Pew! went the pistol, plasma scorching air. Her stomach knotted as she waited for the crash, but it never came.

When she opened her eyes, she saw the horned Nautolan standing a full step to the left of where she'd been aiming before she closed them, looking supremely annoyed. A tapestry smoked behind him, and for a moment, she could only gasp in horror as she watched the edges of the hole smolder and catch light.

"Oh no no no!" That was a piece of history! It was art! "No! Stop—"

If she'd had any hope this man wouldn't hit a woman like Sage wouldn't, she was disappointed. Red eyes skewered her with a judgemental look before one hand pushed her gun aside and down while the other massive arm clocked back and a full-force punch slammed into her face.

She was sent flying back at great speed, her lip splitting and her glasses shattering beyond repair. She bled from her mouth and the back of her head, where she had hit against the wall.

“Please,” she cried, “don’t h-hurt me…”

As Alana's desperate plea hung in the air, her hope flickered and waned. The Nautolan's piercing gaze bore into her, devoid of compassion or mercy. Ignoring her heartfelt words, he lunged forward with lightning speed, overpowering her attempts to defend herself.

With a swift and brutal motion, the Nautolan seized Alana by the arm, his grip like a vice. She struggled against his hold, her strength no match for his imposing stature. In a matter of moments, he had wrestled her to the ground, her body pinned beneath his.

Fear coursed through Alana's veins as the Nautolan tightened his grip, his features twisted in a cold and remorseless expression. She knew she was at his mercy, completely at the mercy of those who sought to harm her.

Her mind raced, desperately searching for an escape. But her attempts to break free proved futile. The Nautolan's strength was insurmountable, his resolve unyielding.

Defeated, Alana's body went limp beneath him, her struggles ceasing as a sense of resignation settled within her. Tears welled in her eyes, a mix of frustration, disappointment, and the pain of knowing that her fight had ended in failure.

As the Nautolan prepared to secure her for transport, Alana's thoughts turned to her husban. She prayed that he would be safe. Though she felt a deep sense of regret for not being able to go back to him, as she had promised, she felt it was better her than him. She’d give her life for him.

In the depths of her despair, Alana summoned the strength to meet the Nautolan's gaze one final time. Despite her vulnerability, her voice rang out with a mix of defiance and vulnerability.

"If I ever get out of this, alive, know that I will make your entire existence miserable. You don’t mess with a Hapan woman and live to boast about it!"

The Nautolan's expression remained stoic, unmoved by her words. He hoisted Alana to her feet, binding her hands tightly with restraints. With a firm grip on her arm, he began leading her away from the antechamber, the Winter Palace fading into the distance.

As they both disappeared into the shadows, Alana carried a flicker of hope. She knew that her capture was not the end of her story, that her determination would persist even in the face of adversity. And though she was now trapped in the clutches of her captor, she vowed to bide her time, to seek an opportunity for escape, and to reclaim her freedom.

Until there, she hoped Aru would forgive her for disappearing once again without saying goodbye. She had just returned into his life, vowing to never leave his side again, finally accepting his offer of marriage. And her need for constant research, paired with her husband’s shady dealings, had caused her to be a target once more.

Alana's world swam.

Back and forth, forth and back. Uppsyside and downways. Swimmy swimmy. She struggled through it, groaning, not wanting to be awake.

Her head hurt. She just wanted to go back to sleep!

But when she tried to curl up into her pillow or roll over and faceplant against Aru's arm, she found she couldn't move. Even though the bed was moving.

The bed was moving?

Treacle and black, her thoughts coalesced from the fog. No, no, she wasn't at home...she was...library. Reading. Tapestry. Tapestry!

"Nooo, it's on fire!" she gasped back into consciousness, only to gurgle and almost vomit with pain. It was hard to breathe or see. Blackness gradually receded from her vision as she whimpered and whined, the cries of pain falling on uncaring ears.

The pieces came back together again, like fragments of the past she so carefully puzzled over. The Nautolan. Her abduction and two near escapes. The punch. It hurt so bad, maybe he'd actually killed her!

But when she lifted her arms to test at her face, she didn't feel anything collapsed. No holes or gaps in her teeth, though she could taste blood in her mouth. Her lips were puffy and swollen and so were her eyes and nose. At least she wasn't tired up though...

Not that it would matter. The big Nautolan wasn't letting her go. How was she going to get away from him?

They were still moving through the palace. This section had more people. Audience chambers and alcoves in her inverted view. But they didn't look like they cared a woman was being toted around helplessly. Mercenaries, probably.

Oh, think, Alana! she thought to herself, wanting to just cry and maybe also die her head hurt so much. Thinking hurt.

But she'd spent her life making connections...threading pieces...history and consequence and cause she effect. Details.

She tried to look around again. Options, options...

The Nautolan's weapons were all secured.

But the datapad wasn't.

The datapad that he'd shown her her bounty on.

With the smallest tremble of fear in her steady scholar's fingers, she reached. Slipped it free.

It was locked, of course. But she could bypass that, she knew how. It was just hard to order her thoughts, hard to type, trying to be quiet...

There! She was in, so if she just accessed the right file and modified it a bit... And then...a broadcast.

They entered another chamber full of shady sorts drinking and grumbling and surrounded by gold just as every device in the immediate vicinity with a holonet connection pinged! Datapad or communicators or wristlinks or pucks. The message went out.

And there it would be, a holo of her, with her name, and a large reward. Not for Aru's debts, but to be paid for her rescue from a capture.

She felt it when the Nautolan froze, hearing all those alerts. He twisted and lifted her around, and she yelled, suddenly upright and dangling by the back of her shirt as he held her like a scuffed tooka in one hand.

Sanguine eyes locked on her datapad in his hold, double rows of teeth baring, and she thought for a second he'd destroy her. But then chairs and stools were scraping, weapons drawing, and his head whipped around.

He snatched the datapad back at the same time he dropped her. Alana landed with a cry again for her jostled head and watched through her weak eyes as plasma started flying in all directions. The Nautolan ducked and ran, pistols cracking off. It was chaos. Getting to her hands and knees, the woman crawled under the nearest table and waited for it all to blow over. Her eyes drooped, and she knew somewhere that she probably shouldn't go to sleep, but...a nap would be nice...

And well, when they had to pay out the reward, they'd just put it on the tab with everything else.