Montegue: Origins - Acts

[Hugo Montegue]

After much altering of thread titles to intentionally confuse you all, here is the third, fourth or eighth installment of Montegue: Origins, depending on your perspective and how anal-retentive you are.

Coromon Headhunter - 3 Months AE

Vittore was on a mission. That was probably wise, given the time of year. Over the past two decades Hugo had learned to show very little emotion, especially to his two boys. It was an important, integral part of the job; no way they'd buck up and follow orders if he spent his time moping and emoting. 'sides: Cambrio did enough of that on his own for the whole family. But today was one of those days where things became difficult for him; one of those days where the painful reminders became a little too potent to ignore.

Twenty-two years ago to the day, Hugo had taken his sons and fled Coruscant, never to return. He'd shot and - he thought - killed the only woman he'd ever loved. Then somehow, she'd managed to disappear without trace, only to manifest lightyears away and weeks later on Cularin. That was the day when Hugo's sister-in-law had given her life to save what was left of their family.

I didn't do a very good job of taking care of them, did I, Cambria?

Times had been tough since then; made worse by his lust for revenge against the universe in general. What had transpired with his belovéd Emaryn had been impossible to explain, so he had declared war against every like-minded mystery in the 'verse: shapeshifters; mindreaders; things with psychic abilities; things with fangs and teeth and claws; things that went bump in the night. Anything that to his mind posessed unnatural or unholy powers was fair game. From time to time he'd make a credit or two on the side as well; in recent years, he'd gained such a reputation that people sought him out. Most of it was pretty standard fair - great monsterous beasts tormenting settlements on Outer Rim worlds where the Empire didn't give enough of a damn to take care, mostly - but they paid for food and fuel; they kept him going; kept him fighting.

He'd tried to keep the boys out of it. They'd grown up the first few years on Junction, living a normal life, but when the bug had sunk its teeth into Hugo, he'd up sticks and moved them all onto an old Space Dragon freighter; turned the ship into a home for them all. It had worked, to start with. Vittore would take care of baby Cammy, while Hugo and his brother Victor went out to kill what needed to be killed. But then the boys had grown up, and the problems had begun. Vittore viewed their lifestyle with an awe and amazement, as if they were living the lives of some of the characters he idolised so much on the holonet. Cambrio meanwhile rattled around their cage of a ship in frustration. Hugo felt sorry that his son was forced to live a life he didn't choose, but damn it they needed him. Needed every hand they could get.

He winced, fighting back that resurgant flood of the age old argument that had plagued his relationship with Cambrio ever since the kid had been old enough to fire a blaster without needing both hands. Their conflict had driven a wedge between them, and in the end it had driven Cambrio away.

That's where he was going; that's why he was here. "I promised myself I'd never come back here," he muttered, settling his eyes on the sickening network of permacrete valleys and durasteel mountains, and the rivers of airspeeders and pedestrians that meandered between them. Coruscant; or Imperial Center; whatever it was they were meant to be calling it these days. Things had been a little rough lately, what with the Emperor getting himself vapourised off at Endor. There were places out on the rim that didn't believe it; some even that hadn't heard it yet. On the core though, there had been celebrations in the street; riots even; and then the inevitable crushing blow from the Imperials that quashed them all back to the dust.

No; Coruscant wasn't a safe place to be. Not now. Not ever. Cambrio was an idiot to have set foot there, let alone having done so voluntarily. But with a little luck, and a little meddling from his father, he'd be the alive kind of idiot, and that was better than nothing.