So I've picked up SWTOR again, an am absolutely enthralled by the bounty hunter storyline. Not only is she an utter badass, I LOVE the Torian romance. So much so that I had to write a fanfic about it. This will switch between Torian and Arikah's perspectives, with the overall story probably not very long. But we'll see, I have a habit of stretching things out. SWTOR Bounty Hunter storyline / romance spoilers abound. Enjoy! PS - I'm including the translations for the Mando'a I use at the bottom. I am in no way fluent AT ALL, this was just to inject more Torian flavor into the story, so if the translations are awful or don't fit, my apologies.


Chapter 1: Her First Kill

Arikah, Grand Champion of the Great Hunt. Arikah, a woman worthy enough to be adopted into clan Mandalore by the man himself. Arikah, a woman with access to the Blacklist. Whose first Blacklist target had been his father, the traitor. Jicoln Cadera. And yet she'd allowed him to accompany her when she went for the final confrontation, even permitting him to have a final conversation with the traitor. On top of that, she left it up to him to decide what to do with the traitor.

She was way out of Torian's league.

He shouldn't even be thinking about her like that. He should just let her go, realizing that she would never fall for him. He could never be worthy of her.

But since their first meeting back on Dromund Kaas, when she'd stumbled out of that cave, bruised and bloody, yet still cracking a smile as she held up the Sith spawn beast's heart to the chorus of his clan's cheers, he'd felt something stir in him at the sight of her.

She was beautiful, but not in a caked on makeup sort of way; she was naturally lovely, with tanned skin that was proof of her long hours outdoors and a strong contrast to her icy blue eyes, full, clearly defined lips that she left bare of any product. The three vertical, raking scars over her left eye and down her cheek showed she'd survived her share of close encounters, a fact he could appreciate. Only her tawny light brown hair had any form of embellishment. She pulled it back into a low, fancy bun at the nape of her neck, leaving short, curled pieces to frame her face. She was strong from years of wearing heavy armor, yet from what he could tell, she had quite a figure under all that armor.

When she looked at him, what did she see? A kid. She'd called him so, at their initial meeting, a stigma he worked hard to overcome. He'd worked harder than anyone, being that his father was Jicoln Cadera, and he was the traitor's blood. It stung, her calling him a kid, but as he was only 18, she could hardly be faulted for thinking that way.

And she was confusing, on top of all that. He had no experience with women, mostly because he'd never been moved by any he'd met, but also because the Mandalorian women avoided the traitor's son altogether, so he never knew what to expect from her. He'd been feeling smug when he got the jump on her on Taris, but was quickly thrown when she turned around sweetly, sidling up to him and purring in that smoky voice of hers that she'd missed him since Dromund Kaas. A ruse, he'd discovered as he was disarmed and hit the floor flat on his back a second later, but for that brief instant, he had been positive she was serious. He assumed that any help she accepted from him on Taris at that point was simply his penance for that stunt, but when Jicoln had left him injured in his old hideout, Arikah had refused to leave him, despite his insistence. She'd found him a medkit and got him back on his feet, putting herself in danger of losing her target altogether.

Then she'd agreed to take him on her ship, a favor he had no idea how she'd react to. He was relieved when she'd said yes, and a surge of excitement had filled his blood. With her, he had the promise of great hunting, enemies to test his strength, to push his limits and ensure his worthiness. It also allowed him a reason to stay with her. The fact was that he'd been dreading leaving her side as soon as he realized her bounty had been fulfilled at the death of his father. But what did she get out of the arrangement?

Since Taris, he hadn't been altogether sure what to make of her flirting. Was she teasing him, a continuation of her underhanded methods on Taris? What would that gain her? Some nights he woke from his bunk, gasping, covered in sweat, her suggestive words about 'showing him something worthy' echoing in his mind. Or he tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep at all, thinking of when she told him with a curving of her lips she was disappointed that he hadn't noticed more than her aim. He always responded with a safe answer, nothing too evocative in reply. How could he, when he stood in front of her, Mandalore's adopted daughter, as son of the betrayer to Mandalore? How could he, when he wasn't sure how she felt about him?

Arikah had been taking him out with her quite frequently, which Torian appreciated. He went stir crazy if he stayed on the ship too long, and the others were too chatty for his tastes. While they were out, he got to see more of Arikah's character as she interacted with those around her, and he continued to be impressed by her. She had a strong sense of honor, like him, refusing to be scared into negotiating when a fight loomed imminent. It struck him as odd that she didn't push for credits, being that she was a bounty hunter, but she certainly didn't turn them down, either. She made her choices based on her moral code rather than her greed, which he respected whole heartedly.

She truly was worthy of being a Mandalorian. It was easy to see why Mandalore had been so quick to trust her.

"Alor'ad, can I ask you something?" he brought up one day. They were on Quesh, heading to meet the contact for the endorsement offer that'd come through. He'd been a few paces behind, covering the rear, and when she stopped suddenly at his question, he had to pull himself up abruptly to not run directly into her.

She didn't immediately look back at him, first glancing around, scouting the area to ensure they weren't in danger of being attacked suddenly. Then her gaze turned to meet his and she nodded curtly. "Shoot."

"Why did you become beroya? A bounty hunter?" The question had been eating at him for the longest time. Even just to have it hang in the air was a relief to him.

She glanced to the side, blowing out her breath as if the question bothered her, and remained silent for a moment before responding. "It's not an interesting story, Torian. I think it will disappoint you."

"Nayc. Not possible."

She shrugged. "It had nothing to do with defending my family's honor, or because I was orphaned and it was either this or becoming a Hutt's dancer, or anything like that. It was simply because I was good. My father was a pure hunter – my family made money off selling the animals he killed. He took me to hunt smaller game – I think he secretly wished I was a boy – and then realized how good I was. He trained me young, and I loved it. Time came for me to be old enough to hunt for myself, and an old friend of the family went behind my father's back to offer me a contract on a person. It was more money than my father would have made in several months collectively, and I was young. I agreed." Here, she stopped, leaving him wondering if that was all to the story. He studied her face as she scanned the horizon for the fourth time. She had to be seeing something else, not the red-orange rock that discolored the planet and the clouds that hung like curtains in the sky.

"You never forget your first kill, do you?" she asked softly, after a long pause. It caught him off guard, especially when he realized she was speaking of a humanoid kill, not just an animal. The question seemed rhetorical, and she didn't mind or perhaps even notice when he didn't answer.

"It was supposed to be a live bounty. A Twi'lek. Bring him in, earn the creds. Simple. I didn't know enough to get details, I only heard the bounty reward and in my young foolishness, I was persuaded into agreeing. Had I learned more, I would have realized the target was someone who'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He witnessed a major crime go down – I won't get into specifics – and they wanted him brought in. Just so they could kill him. And use his remains as a warning to others who might cross them." She shook her head, and he noticed the pain in her eyes and in the set of her mouth.

"He knew to expect trouble. He just didn't expect it from me. I managed to get in close, lure him practically all the way to their hideout, until he finally realized what was happening. He ran, and I… I panicked. I tried to shoot his leg, stop his escape. I missed." She grimaced. "In the end, I think I did him a favor. The shot caught him in his chest, hadn't killed him outright, but he was dying from blood loss and we both knew it. When I went to him, he begged me for a merciful end and… I couldn't deny him. But I couldn't look him in the eyes as I did." She began to walk away from him, a slow walk, unlike her usual purposeful strides. He followed her to a boulder, where she took a seat.

"I got half the credits for killing him rather than keeping him alive, which was still plenty. But I went home and didn't leave for weeks, thinking long and hard about what I'd done. That kill alone had gotten me a reputation, and offers on contracts came in every few days, but I had to sort through if this was actually what I wanted to do. That Twi'lek's dying gaze haunted me for years, well after I'd made my decision. I realized that I couldn't do what I'd done – accept a contract without knowing what it was for – and since then I've tried to make each contract I accept something I believe in. Otherwise, I'm no more than a glorified assassin or kidnapper. And I couldn't live with myself if I thought that way."

She finally looked up at him, and his heart turned when he saw the waver of tears in her eyes. Unsure of what to do, he took a seat beside her.

"This causes you pain," he told her, regretting to have caused her the anguish from her past she was reliving. "But you made the right choice, ukor b'ukor."

She smiled weakly, a smile that didn't light up her eyes the way her smiles usually did. He loved those smiles, particularly when they were directed at him. This one he didn't much care for. It wasn't genuine, a pitiful shadow that mimicked her usual expression. It held more sadness than mirth.

"Do you still think I'm worthy of being Mandalorian?" Her voice was low, and her eyes delved into his, searching for honest truth.

"Definitely."

In fact, the story had only made him fonder of her. She had made a mistake, but she hadn't allowed it to keep her down. Instead, she strove to make up for that mistake, much the way he had done for being the son of the traitor.

Now if only he could be worthy of her.


Mando'a Translations

Alor'adCaptain

BeroyaHunter / Bounty hunter

NaycNo

Ukor b'ukor – Forced to make a decision, or literally, when push comes to shove