Come on, come on… Kalita Mereel silently urged her ship, a heavily modified MandalMotors Viassna 13, cheerily named The Punisher. Her hands were busy at the controls, deftly leading the ship, dodging and weaving through the green-tinged haze of high powered ion cannon shots that fired into the empty space around them. Her eyes, however, remained fixed through the tinted visor of her helmet on the ship from which the laser fire originated.
Occasionally, her gaze flickered to the nav-system, then back out the viewport, measuring the time until she hit atmo as compared to how much space her pursuer had gained on her. Weaving at a breakneck pace through the barrage of incendiaries, she twisted her neck from side to side as far as the helmet would allow, trying to rid herself of the irritating crick her neck had formed, grumbling to herself all the while about her own idiocy. You wanted trouble? Well, you got it, you di'kut. She knew all along that this had been one of her riskier ideas, but she had also known she could handle this barve. He was just exasperatingly relentless.
Her body jerked against the crashwebbing of her seat as a bolt glanced off The Punisher's reflector shields. He was getting closer. Her head smacked sharply against the back of the seat as the frame of her ship rattled again ominously. Kalita, tall enough to look straight into the eyes of most human men, glared into the rearview specs, tracking his proximity. Her muscled body was layered with the ancient armor that characterized her people, the Mandalorians. It was painted a deep green over black, dented and pitted in many places, but still lethally impenetrable. It served her well as the crash webbing again strained against her body as a result of the barrage of cannon fire raining down on her ship.
She had obtained possession of Anwoyn Neiter less than three standard time parts ago, a piece of hard merchandise, as bounty hunters called them, worth three and a half million credits to anyone who could bring him in alive. Kalita was rapidly becoming well known for her position as a general jack-of-all-trades, willing to do just about anything for credits, but she had proven today that no one knew all her tricks, and that she was more than capable enough to be considered a serious threat to any hunter, saboteur, splicer, or smuggler who crossed her.
It had been a spur of the moment hunt- she preferred a different line of work, but credits had been short lately and Neiter was a high-profile bounty that she couldn't resist. In the process of gaining him, Mereel had needed to outrun some of the most respected and sought-after bounty hunters in the trade. She'd braced herself for quite the battle; Neiter was a high priority bountyhead, after all. However, his capture been rather more simple than she had expected. All it had required was good timing and a bit of finesse on her part...
Upon her arrival at the planet, she had hacked into the chain of planet-side control stations, in charge of tracking all ships within a quarter parsec of the planet. Overriding the security systems, she had located all ships registered within her own computer as those belonging to bounty hunters. After that, all that was required was to send a short-wave autoblock broadcast from her ship's comp-system to all targeted ships through the control station wavelengths.
In short, the broadcast disrupted an enemy ships entire computer core from cockpit controls to lighting elements, allowing Kalita to slink through and snatch the merchandise while the other hunters were still frantically piecing back together their ship's systems. The idea then had been to bring the man to the prearranged rendezvous point, pick up her credits, and move on to the next job. Her plan hadn't quite gone completely as she'd desired, however.
She had made the jump into hyperspace, entering realspace within three hours. Only, instead of the nice fat credchip waiting for her, she had nearly been lasered down by another hunter. The other hunter. Boba Fett. He'd beat her to the mark and laid in wait on one of the local moons, trying to pull the same maneuver on her that she'd pulled on everyone else.
Sneaky chakaar, trying to steal my stolen bounty... Mereel prided herself in that she had come so far in her given line of work. She was most skilled as a slicer and mechanic, but she often hunted when she needed to. It was a simple matter of what offered the most credits in the least amount of time. In fact, it was commonly acknowledged that the only other sentients more feared than herself were Palpatine, Vader, and the man currently bent upon gunning her down. However, if she was completely honest with herself… She knew her little ship, built for speed more than protection, could not outgun him. That left her vulnerable.
Kalita Mereel hated being vulnerable.
But Fett clearly disliked this game as well. Kalita smirked, secure in the knowledge that avoiding enemies was one of the things she was absolute best at. She'd had to be. Life was cruel to those who couldn't fend for themselves, and clearly Fett had not been expecting someone to be so adept at evading him. Kalita was surprised though, when his ship's thruster fire faded and the ship stilled. She turned about, weapons at the ready, finger a hair's breadth from opening fire on him. But she wanted to see what he was up to first. They sat for a moment, each assessing the other's strengths and weaknesses, considering all the possible ways this little confrontation could play out, before Fett's voice crackled on over her comm unit.
"Hand it over." the low, toneless voice rasped, without preamble.
"Thanks, but no." was her own, equally expressionless answer.
"Hand it over or be vaporized." Fett's voice had given no hint of pleasure or otherwise at the prospect of disintegrating his only real competition in the business. If anything, his voice become more expressionless.
Fine, Fett. You can play your game. But you should understand that you're not the only one who knows how to play. I'm the one with the merchandise after all... Was Kalita's unspoken response
She spoke her next thoughts aloud over the comlink.
"You aren't going to vaporize me. I've got your money in my holding bay."
There was a long silence over the link, and Kalita's Mandalorian armor, kin to Fett's own, fell into familiar, well worn grooves as her fingers found the trigger of The Punisher's pulse cannon safety, the other hand hovering over the ships equally worn-in thruster pad in anticipation. Kalita's lips twitched into a half smile, adrenaline pumping throughout her system despite the odds stacked against her. This was what Mandalorians thrived off of; the trials and challenges of dealing death to those who were deemed unfit to live, the rush of evading the competition, being the one with the credits at the end of the day. Stealing from one such as Fett was just an added bonus.
"Tell me how that works for you, girl." Fett's voice had pounded in her ears, coarse and unforgiving. Kalita smirk only widened. Cocky, this one is.
Her response to him was no more than a murmured "Will do, beroya."She reverted to the strange mix of Basic and Mandalorian that many of her people had adopted in response to an uprising in Mandalorian involvement in the galaxy. Kalita slammed her hand down on the thruster pad, abruptly increasing velocity in the ship's thrusters, pulling the ship around in an arc, and shooting The Punisher away, out of short wave communication.
She dodged and weaved through the renewed blasts from the other hunter's cannons, trying to make a gradual descent toward the planet looming below, with limited results. But this time… Nothing but determination pounded through her mind. She wouldn't give this man the satisfaction of taking "his" bounty back from her. It was hers, and she very much intended to keep it.
"Run randomized evasive maneuvers." Mereel commanded aloud to the ship. She felt the slight jerk from The Punisher's mainframe, telling her that the computer had kicked in and overrode all manual controls. Knowing that the ship would still need her guidance, she quickly spot checked her systems mainframe for damage.
Checking the various screens confronting her, Kalita ensured that all the Punisher's systems were at least functional. A satisfied expression crossed her face as she took in all of the readings. The only system that was in real danger was her fuel, as she had only filled up with slightly over a metric ton at the last refueling station. Kalita would have to land fairly soon, or risk being stuck in space with Boba Fett on the prowl for her bounty.
Stupid girl, too cheap to fill up the damned tank all the way, Kalita thought disparagingly. Why did it seem like she always did this to herself?
She reengaged the manual controls, deftly completing the three hundred sixty degree roll that the computer had started. The maneuver brought her into the lower atmosphere of Ootaga, the rendezvous planet where her client's stooge would be waiting. A ping across the hull of The Punisher reminded Kalita of Fett's proximity, and she quickly set to outsmarting him, as her larger ship could obviously not outrun him.
A wicked grin flashed across Kalita's face as her last thoughts replayed in her mind. She could obviously not outrun him any longer… So why run at all?
Pulling her craft up sharply, Kalita maxed out the shields, giving up speed for as much protection as she could gain. Instead of trying to get around Fett, she would force him to go around her. Kalita completely laid off the thrusters. The other hunter raced past her, obviously expecting to continue their space brawl until she gave in or he blew her ship to bits. Almost instantly, he came about, having quickly comprehended her ruse, but it was too late. He had already given her all the time she needed to finish her job. Kalita plummeted straight down, aiming for the landing pad almost directly below her. Within a hundred meters of the pad, the laserfire abruptly resumed.
A little late there, Fett? Kalita thought mischievously.
She settled her ship as the bolts of green energy stopped almost as soon as it had begun.
What are you doing, beroya?
Kalita checked her navigation monitor. The Slave I was hovering above Kalita's smaller ship, ominously silent. Mereel half-expected Fett to drop another barrage of fire down, but the turrets just below the head of his ship remained still. Instead, Fett's voice cracked on again over the link.
"You're brave, Mereel. But you're also lucky." Kalita wasn't sure, but it almost sounded like… respect tinging Fett's voice. Ignoring the voice in the back of her head that told her she was being an idiot by provoking him, Kalita shot back "Call it what you will, Fett. But I'm the one with the merchandise." She waited for his response, unsurprised at the lack of one. What did surprise her was the sight of Slave I slowly heading back up into the atmosphere, dented and pockmarked metal gleaming menacingly even in the bright sunlight pouring down on the small landing pad.
Kalita did not dwell on Fett's unusual behavior. She had other business to attend to. Instead, she went down to the cargo hold and recovered her prize. Neiter was still unconscious, so Kalita hefted him up over her shoulders and carried him outside to the waiting goon. When she deposited the man in front of the being now responsible for him, he grabbed the man by the collar. Handing her the credchip, he turned to walk away. She watched him go silently, until he abruptly turned back and said in admiring tones "Krishk, lady. I 'ent never seen a space fight like that!"
Kalita made no reply, but underneath her helm a smile spread slowly across her face.