Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Jennet, please don't sue! I just take the characters out to play with sometimes; I promise I'll give them back when I'm done.
Author's note: I got this idea after watching Serenity for the umpteenth time. I liked Canderous when I played both the KOTOR games; I have a soft spot for Alpha males. Anyway, when River decimated the bar, I thought what would Canderous think if he saw a woman who could fight like that? That wasn't crazy, of course. This isn't a crossover, however. I'm assuming that Mandalore is Canderous for the purpose of this story. I don't have a beta, so I apologize in advance of any typos. I do check over my stories carefully, but you can't always catch everything. Hope you enjoy; please R&R if so inclined, I'd love feedback. - LJ
Canderous
I'd come to the cantina in civvies. Everyone aboard the Ebon Hawk had been warned to keep a low profile, if possible. I was armed, and had a shield strapped to my wrist, but I felt almost naked without my armor. Even when you're paying for a woman, however, they tended to be more receptive when you're not encumbered by bulky fibersteel, so I didn't mind much. I stalked into the cantina I'd heard was a local hangout for mercs and other lowlifes, feeling much more at home at this sort of dive than the higher-end bars, and took a table where I could see as much as possible. By habit, I'd noted all probable exits, and who might be real trouble. By the looks of it, about half the bar. I grinned, causing a patron to edge back a little. It was good to be planet side.
I scoped out the joint, especially the women. There were six that were definitely peddling themselves; four of those were Twi'liks. I avoided that race; the women tended to be too fragile physically for my tastes. I'm not cruel sexually, I just didn't want a woman I feel I might break, and I'm not especially good about being gentle. The other two were human, but one had the look of a Spice addict, all skinny bones and sharp angles. The last was obviously bargaining with a potential client. Four more seemed to be a possibility, and two were sturdy-looking wenches. I decided to watch those two a while and look for an opening. The rest of the women present were obviously customers, seated with various groups of thugs.
Three tables down, there was a young blond girl sitting alone, sipping ale, and obviously keeping herself to herself. She looked about twelve, and I grimaced. I hated it when the management let kids in, especially in this sort of place. Brawls were common, and innocent bystanders tended to get hurt – or dead. I made a mental note to keep an eye on her and ordered a double Tatooine firewhiskey.
I'd been there about a half an hour when the mercs walked in. Ignoring everyone, they approached the blond girl purposefully. Slavers, I thought savagely, and damned bold ones too. If there was anything I hated more than Siths, it was slavers that preyed on children. They appeared to be arguing with the kid. She looked up at them, seemingly…bored? That didn't seem right. Hm. Maybe she was some rich gangster's daughter, slumming, and these were Daddy's bodyguards come to drag her pretty ass home. Six seemed excessive though. Well, better safe than sorry. I activated my shield and slipped my blaster out of its holster, watching the little scene. One wrong move, and I'd kill them all, then drag her scrawny butt back to whatever palace she belonged to. Let her parents sort out their wayward princess.
Then she stood up, and all hell broke loose.
One of the mercs made the mistake of shoving her, and suddenly she moved. Gracefully, but so fast it made me almost dizzy to watch, she grasped the offending arm with both hands, yanked it so he stumbled forward, off-balance. Almost lazily, her foot hooked his ankle, her elbow connected with the side of his head and he fell on his ass, stunned. She dove under the table as the other five opened fire, slipped gracefully out among their feet, popped up behind the group, and snagged a vibrosword off the back of one before he knew she was there. With a vicious two-handed slash, she neatly decapitated the original owner of the blade, and turned her attentions to the remaining five.
Most of the other nearby patrons had ducked for cover when the blasters started to roar. I, however, remained stupidly standing, frozen to the spot, staring open-mouthed at the most beautiful sight I've ever beheld. This tiny blonde woman, whom I had dismissed as a child, was taking on six well-armed and armored mercenaries, and winning. She didn't even seem to be breaking a sweat.
The first one she had hit had managed to draw his blaster, but was still dazed and not yet up from the floor. The other three had spun toward her but one was dead before he even got halfway around. The second, apparently an idiot, advanced, blaster blazing, but she danced sidewise and took him out with a thrust through the chest. The moron on the floor hadn't bothered to get up before he commenced firing, but his angle was clumsy and she easily avoided the pulses of energy wildly bursting around her. The merc that was still on his feet was smarter; he retreated a bit, to avoid the deadly blade's slash. She leaped on to the table, graceful as a gazelle, blocked a couple of shots with the humming vibroblade, and launched herself right over the merc's head. Her sword struck straight down through the top of his head as she tumbled over him, using her momentum to smoothly pull the sword free from its bloody sheath. Landing lightly on her feet, she kicked viciously backwards, catching Floor-boy in the gut as he struggled to stand. He went down again, gasping, and she whipped around, slashing him across the face and almost taking the top of his skull off. He was dead before he hit the floor – again.
She spun around, scanning for other attackers. Across the room, another wave of mercs had just taken position. They took aim, blaster fire erupted again, and she danced through it, blocking some with the vibroblade, mostly avoiding being hit by simply not being there when the bolt of energy whizzed by.
All right, that's enough. I snapped out of my thrall and aimed my blaster at this new threat to the blonde goddess in front of me. I dropped three of the assholes before I spotted two small ovals flying toward her. Oh shit, grenades.
Faster than I could blink, she dropped her blade and almost casually plucked the tiny bombs from the air. She chucked them with deadly accuracy back at the group of mercs who had thrown them, leaped like a gymnast onto her table again, and bounded across three tables straight at me. I didn't even have time to duck before she hit me full in the chest just as the grenades went off.
Flying pieces of debris filled the air and a large chunk of something struck her hard in the back of the head as we fell. She went limp, and I had the wind partly knocked out of me by a combination of her dead weight and the plasma grenade's backlash. But a good deal of the blast was absorbed by my shield, so I was able to recover quickly. Without stopping to think about my motives, I scrambled to my feet, threw the unconscious woman over my shoulder, and barreled toward the brand-new hole in the wall of the cantina. My exit was more or less concealed by smoke and chaos. What remained of the mercenaries squelched under my feet as I ran out.
Once on the street, I quickly got my bearings, then headed in a random direction. I sped around buildings, through alleys, backtracked a couple of times, and holed up in a dark doorway when I was satisfied we weren't being pursued. By this time, she was starting to stir, coughing. I set her down carefully, holstered my blaster, and checked her over for damage. Nothing except a lump at the base of her skull; that was gonna hurt like a bitch when she noticed it, but certainly nothing to worry about. She opened her eyes, blinked, then leaped to her feet, instantly on guard.
"Who the fuck are you?" She wheezed.
"My name is Canderous Ordo." Now, why did I use my given name? Well, too late now. "Nice work back there," I jerked a thumb over my shoulder. "Who the fuck are you?" I mimicked back at her.
"Name's Jennet Jax." She coughed a little more. "What the hell have I been smoking?"
"What's left of the cantina. You got knocked out, and I didn't want to stick around for awkward questions. Kid, you sure as hell can fight. No chance you're a Mandolorian?" Rhetorical question; she was far too tiny to be of my race.
"No." She took a few clean breaths, and shook her head, wincing. "Learned from a couple, though. Look, I think my head's going to fall off. Got any kolto packs?"
"Sorry, not on me. No Mandalorian taught you that. We fight well, but that was…beautiful," I said, almost lamely, the word unfamiliar in my mouth. But I couldn't come up with anything that was better; she had been beautiful. Still was, come to that, if skinny, not to mention about half my mass – and age.
"Thanks."
We regarded each other a moment.
"So what in the name of Kobald's balls was that all about?" I asked, eyebrow cocked. "And why did you throw yourself at me? Not that I minded," I added with a lewd smirk, partly to get a rise out of her, mostly because it was true.
"Cute." She didn't seem impressed. "Well, you were the only one still standing and I thought man, what's this stupid asshole doing, trying to get his head blown off? You had your blaster drawn, and I figured if you were trying to help me, I better get your hulking ass out of the way of the plasma blast, and if you were trying to kill me, I'd disarm you and kill you first. I didn't account for getting knocked out." She smiled. "Glad you weren't trying to kill me."
"Well, it would be an honor to do battle with you, but killing you would be a real shame. I've never seen anyone fight like that."
"So why in the name of Kobald's balls did you help me?" she mimicked at me, smirking.
"I don't really know. Curiosity, mostly, I guess. So, what was that about?"
"Persistent bastard, aren't you?"
"Yep."
"I'm a bounty hunter. I'm good at what I do, and sometimes people take exception."
"You got a ship, or are you local?"
"Not any more. I sort of crashed when I got here. Ship's totally trashed. I sold what I could for salvage, but it wasn't enough. I've been trying to get off this cesspit of a planet for months. I've been hunting to get enough credits to buy a ship or book passage. I've got enough now, but problem is, who's selling: the Exchange, or the Hutts. They don't like me very much. Haven't seen an independent freighter or passenger ship in weeks."
"They don't like me much either. Listen, I've got…friends," the word still sounded strange to me, "and they have a ship. We could use someone like you, if you'd like to tag along." A thought struck me. "If you knew you were being hunted, why the fuck did you go to a place like that unarmed?"
She smiled sweetly. "Did I look unarmed to you?"
She had a point. I just crossed my arms, though, and glowered.
She sighed. "Nah, you're right. I wouldn't have been, but my apartment got blown up a couple of hours ago. Lost everything but what I was wearing. I've kept my credits on my person at all times for the last month, in case I heard of a ship; then I could just pay and go. I had a line on one and was supposed to meet the captain. Can we say set up?"
"Pretty stupid to leave the apartment at all without so much as a dagger."
"I didn't," she said shortly.
"Ah. And you didn't buy a blade or blaster before you went in….why?"
She looked at me coolly. "No time. You're either an off-worlder or an idiot if you don't know who owns all the weapons shops, and it takes a while to find anyone on the street that's willing to sell to me. I don't kill strangers on the street for their weapons. Now, if I had met someone with murder on their minds on the way to my meeting, I would have been pleased to make them dead first, and arm myself as a happy side effect. But trouble never hits when it's convenient."
"Ain't that the truth," I agreed, grinning. I was really beginning to like this girl. A born killer with a sense of honor, and none of the hypocrisy of those irritating jetti. And she didn't edge away when I smiled.
"I was pretty sure I was being set up, but I had to take the chance the ship might be legit." She sighed again. "I should have thought to keep my weapons on me, but fer Gods' sake a girl needs to sleep sometime. Or shower. I had a beautiful blade, and that blaster cost a damn fortune," she said wistfully.
"I see. Well, as I said, I have friends, and a ship, and that ship has some kolto, if you want to patch up and talk it over with the rest of the crew."
"What do you get out of this?"
"A chance to spar with you."
She grinned widely. "Deal."
I tossed the vibroblade that had been sheathed on my back at her. "Take this, just in case. Let's go."
