It was another planet anyone with common sense would avoid. Well, common sense or less armour than a freighter. Currently, Aqura fell into neither category. She was fully equipped with a golden suit of beskar – Mandalorian iron – and a sense of adventure.
Aqura ran a hand appreciatively along the white highlights on one of her bracers. Even days after getting it, she'd probably still be sketching the lines of white across her chestplate and helmet. Sure, it was unprofessional, but it just looked so good! At least she could pass off tracing the bracers as double-checking her flamethrower or grappling line.
Her smile hid behind a fully sealed helmet as she watched the various low-lifes of the Huttese cantina give her – or, her armour – a wide berth.
Normally, walking through a cantina on Hutta with anything worth even a fraction as much would be an invitation for disaster. Beskar'gam tended to have the opposite effect. Men who would trade their own mothers for a quick cred avoided the T-slit visor's gaze, and hardened mercenaries kept a respectful distance.
Such was the power of the Mandalorian reputation. It was easy to say one was Mandalorian, completely different when the beskar'gam told everyone who could see. Aayha had done Aqura more of a favour designing it than the young hunter had realized. Not that she'd ever take a gift from her beloved cousin for granted.
Aqura stopped for a moment when she got to the back of the cantina. There were a series of rooms, all off a side hallway. Braden had definitely said to meet in one of them. She could check each one, but she'd probably scare anyone she looked in on. Hutta wasn't known for hosting people who were happy to see bounty hunters of any variety.
Something told Aqura the rancid smell was coming from the nearer room on her right. Maybe it was the extra yellowing in the wall near that door. As for the closest one on the left, the door was closed. Not something Braden would bother with; he and Jory were always armed. There just wasn't any point letting some poor fool walk into a room full of bounty hunters without warning.
Ah, there. The one on the far right. Less noise coming from it than the far left – which she could hear over the cantina just behind her – and the floor looked like it had been swept, which could only mean computers.
The Mandalorian armour clanked louder than Aqura liked as she walked up to the room.. She'd never worn full beskar'gam before, just beskar pieces here and there. She'd have to get used to walking quietly with so much weight.
Was it possible to make a jetpack fire quietly and lightly enough to quiet armoured footsteps? Uncle Lekan would have known. Until she found somebody as crazy and clever as him, she'd just have to practice and deal with the occasional clanking joint.
Inside, Braden was talking with a teenage girl with a face Aqura couldn't help but think of as adorable. It was a little round, with a button nose. The implant at her temple might have looked ready to intrude on her bright, energetic eyes, but that didn't stop Aqura wanting to take her home and keep her forever.
Somehow, even though Jory was clearly sitting at a table facing the door, it was the round-faced girl that noticed the incoming Mandalorian first. Braden followed her eyes and broke out into a grin.
"The main attraction has arrived," Braden laughed, stepping in to hug Aqura. It didn't feel like much with the armour on, but it was the thought that counted. "Mako," Braden told her as he pulled away, "this is the girl we're pinning all our hopes on. Meet Mandokarla."
The green man at the corner table, a Nikto who was all scales and horns, shot up from his seat. "Braden," he said in Huttese, "you didn't tell me we were bringing in Aqura!"
"Uh..." Mako looked between the three of them in confusion. "Who? Is that bad thing?"
Jory laughed. "No way," he cried, stepping over the table to grasp Aqura's forearm and shake her hand. "Ha! I can already see those victory credits!"
"That means a lot, coming from you," Aqura grinned. "Now, if somebody could close the door? I'd like a real introduction."
Braden rolled his eyes and grumbled, but he went to the door and closed it. Then he turned around and leaned on it, arms crossed.
Aqura reached up, unclasped her helmet and rolled down the armour mesh on her neck, then finally lifted off the helmet, shaking out her hair to get it back to some semblance of normalcy.
"Woah."
Aqura glanced up to see Mako holding a hand up to her own hair, which swept back like smooth ebony from her face, then ended in dreadlocks at the back of her head.
Then Aqura lifted her head to get a good look at the girl without the helmet in the way.
Mako opened her mouth as if she were about to say something else, but sort of froze with her mouth partway open.
Aqura laughed and swept in to hug the girl. Lightly, because beskar wasn't exactly known for its softness. "Guess you've never met a Mando before, hey, Mako?"
Braden muttered something about being pretty sure that wasn't the problem, but Aqura ignored it.
"I've heard you're one of the best slicers in Hutt space." Aqura pulled back, but left a hand on Mako's shoulder. The girl seemed to be getting her bearings back, so that was nice. "That means we've got intel, maintenance, guns, and..." she trailed off after pointing to Mako, Jory, and herself, looking at Braden. "What exactly do you do, again?"
Braden snorted. "I'm the one who's got a way for you to get into the Great Hunt in the first place, cyar'ika. Respect the old man."
"Hold on." Mako held up her hands, shaking her head incredulously. "I'm seriously confused. Is your name Sharka, Ah-KOO-ruh, or Man-"
"It's pronounced shar-EE-kah," Aqura corrected her, "it means sweetheart. And my name's Aq-"
"It's Mandokarla, for the purposes of the Hunt," Braden interrupted.
"But that's a nickname," Jory pointed out. "What are we using that for?"
Aqura caved under Braden's glare, but rolled her eyes and sighed, "alright, Mandokarla. Even among friends, apparently. Anyway, I'm in a bit of trouble, Jory, so we decided a few things shouldn't be advertised."
She wrapped her knuckles lightly on the helmet that had been covering her face since she got to Hutta… and would probably be doing so for her entire time on the planet, apparently.
"And the other thing," Mako interrupted. "Aren't you a Mandalorian? Shouldn't getting into the Great Hunt be no big deal for you? I mean, it's Mandalore who hosts the whole thing, isn't it?"
Aqura shrugged and gave Mako an easy smile. "Yeah, but what's the fun in that?"
"There's enough trouble that Mandokarla's not associating with her clan for a bit," Braden grumbled from the doorway, "until it blows over. So no slip-ups on the name. Got it?"
Aqura narrowed her eyes. "I'm also doing it the hard way to prove myself to the clan, and," she put emphasis on the last word, glaring at the old hunter, "as a favour to Braden."
"Hey, hey," Jory cut in, waving his hands between the two. "Braden's just trying to take care of you, kid. We've been on the run once or twice. Take some advice from the pros."
"Speaking of which," Braden said, pushing off the door, "Mako, you got that network set up yet?"
Mako's eyes went wide and she gasped, "oh, right." She made a surprisingly elegant twirl towards the console she'd been working on and, ten seconds later, said, "yeah, everything's ready, Braden."
"Good," Braden grunted. "Mandokarla, bucket on. We're sending you out asap. Mako, find us the nastiest, most brutal, untouchable scum you can."
"Proving my worth?" Aqura grinned, sliding her helmet back on.
"Yeah." Braden nodded. "You're not getting in to see Nem'ro the Hutt without a rep, which means no chance of a sponsorship to the Hunt without a bounty or two here. And quit smiling in there, we can hear it."
"Bully." Aqura grinned just to spite him.
"We're not getting Mandokarla to quit smiling," Jory shrugged. "But I bet we can find a voice modulator for her."
Aqura threw her hands up in the air. They were both going to insist on this? She'd done just fine before now, without the helmet and everything! "Ugh, fine!" She'd thought this was going to be a minor thing, basically a formality to keep some of the small fry off her. All of a sudden Braden wanted her name changed permanently, her face covered, her voice disguised… what was the point of winning the Great Hunt if nobody even knew who she was?
Well, besides it being a lot of fun.
"Aha! Take a look at this." Mako beckoned the group over to the computer. She'd drawn up a profile on the monitor and started pointing to bullets on a rap sheet. "Vexx, Corellian. Champion quick-draw artist, wanted for robbing fifteen Imperial pay stations."
Braden raised an eyebrow.
"Of all places to get credits, why would-" Jory cut himself off as the door to their room opened.
"Send the details to my HUD," Aqura called back as she headed out the door. "I'll be back in a few!"
Braden grumbled to himself as Mako frantically started looking for Aqura's helmet com frequency.
Aqura just laughed to herself and walked out of the cantina. A quick-draw artist. That had to be at least some challenge!
Aqura returned to the cantina late that day, laughing. Vexx had led her a merry enough chase, but hadn't been half the threat he'd been cracked up to be.
At least he'd gotten off one good joke before she'd frozen him and carted him off to one of Nem'ro's enforcers.
"Hey, guys," she called as she walked down the side hallway, "you wouldn't believe what Vexx came out with before-"
Her voice died in her throat.
Sharp, acrid smell. Pale, slack-jawed faces. A single scorch mark on the wall beside the door, still feebly smoking.
Braden and Jory were on the ground, dead. Braden had his blaster drawn. Jory's pistol was still on the table.
Aqura crashed into the room, tearing off her glove to check for pulses she already knew weren't there. Still, she put her hand to each of their necks. Then, with a roar, she stood and flipped the table Jory had been sitting at just that morning.
Movement, behind her. Instinct took over. She didn't even turn, just slammed her armoured elbow back into her attacker's sternum. Then she spun, sweeping the target off its feet. She had her arm around its throat and her unarmoured hand ready to strike before she recognized the round face and fearful, tear-filled eyes of the last of the team.
Mako choked on an aborted breath and reached up a hand to push uselessly at Aqura's arm. She needn't have bothered. Aqura pulled back to let her breathe and then, as soon as Mako sat up, grabbed her in a powerful hug.
"Oh, di'kut, don't sneak up on a Mandalorian!" Aqura blinked back tears, watching the door in case whoever had done this came back. She stood up, lifting the girl with her, and put herself between the unarmoured slicer and the door. Then she pulled back, patting the girl down. "Are you alright? Did they hurt you? Me'vaar ti gar? Osik, Braden ven'kyr'amur ni meh gar-"
"Stop," Mako wheezed, "stop!"
Aqura cut off, glancing at the door to be sure Mako hadn't spotted someone. Then she drew her blaster pistol. She hadn't even realized it was still in its holster. Bad instincts, especially with her flamethrower in the gauntlet on the floor.
"I can't understand a word you're saying," Mako managed. She tried to keep talking, but she choked again, this time on tears, and bent double with her fists balled up in her shirt. Aqura tried not to watch. Whoever had done this might be back, and she was the only hope Mako had.
So she turned away from Mako and the bodies and watched the door. Not that she could breath any better than the girl right now.
She'd gone on her first strill hunt with Braden. With him and Uncle Lekan and Yoru… and they were all dead. Everybody who'd seen her miss the shot of a lifetime on one of the gliding beasts because she thought it might be going home to its children. Uncle Lekan had laughed at her and Yoru shot the strill down herself, but Braden took her aside that night and told her it was alright to care about her enemies, as long as she always knew when she needed to pull the trigger.
And maybe she'd never been as close to Jory, but there'd been a few nights she'd been bored to sleep by him talking with Lekan or her cousin Aayha about weapon designs or with Sho'cye about philosophy.
She'd have to tell them Jory and Braden were dead. She'd have to explain how it'd happened on her watch…
After. After she'd killed the ones responsible, she'd tell them.
"Mandokarla," Mako said softly.
Aqura shut her eyes tight, then let out a deep breath and opened them again. "Yes, Mako?"
"I can find out who did this."
Watch the door, watch the door, watch the door-
Aqura spun around to face Mako. "How?"
Mako gestured towards the direction of the main cantina. "Places like this always have a few cameras. Usually to blackmail anyone stupid enough to get on the bad side of a hutt. I only left a couple hours ago. That narrows down the time a lot."
"It was more recent than that." Aqura pointed to the scorch mark by the door, which was still smoking if she squinted at it hard enough. "That was still smoking when I walked in here."
Mako nodded and turned towards the computer terminal. "I'll only need a few minutes to go through the last bit of footage – less time to get into the cantina's cameras. Just watch the door, alright? I don't want whoever did this shooting us in the back."
Aqura could only nod and turn away. For approximately ten seconds, she stood facing the door, listening to the clacking of keys on the computer console.
Then, in as reasonable a voice as she could manage, she asked, "do you think you could talk me through what you're doing?"
"Yeah, I guess," Mako replied. "I've got the cameras… just sifting through the footage. Not many people come back through here… okay, I think I've got whoever they were. Two men in armour."
"Who?"
"I don't know!"
Aqura winced slightly. She hadn't meant to be so impatient.
Mako sighed. "Sorry, I just..."
"I know," Aqura said. The bodies were still lying behind the both of them. Maybe Mako was lucky, and she'd never had family die before. Maybe she had, and still took it hard. To Aqura, this sort of thing was far too familiar. Another two names on her list of the dead, another two – if Mako had found them – on her list to kill. "We'll find them. I'll kill them for you. They won't escape us."
Mako didn't reply. She just kept working. Every few seconds, she'd give another status update. She was moving through files and logs at a pace Aqura could barely follow, and that was just the overview.
It turned out Braden was as good at picking young geniuses as he'd once been at hunting.
There were a few minutes when Mako didn't find anything, and all Aqura did was put her gauntlet back on. It wasn't surprising, to take this long to find something. Not on a planet like Hutta. Most transactions were under the table, and those that weren't could be "forgotten" for a few extra credits.
"Damn it!"
Aqura's grip tightened on her gun for a moment, then she loosened it. A tight grip made the gun shake. Amateur sort of mistake. "What is it, Mako?" she asked softly.
"I can't find anything!" Mako's hand slammed loudly into the computer terminal. "I hate this planet, I hate the hutts! I hate these outdated, useless networks! Why-"
"How long until they left?" Aqura asked.
"Why does it matter?!" Mako yelled.
Aqura bit down on her anger. She wasn't angry at Mako, she was angry at the two men who'd killed her friends. And, maybe, just a little angry at Braden and Jory…
Everybody died eventually. But when it happened in a fight, it was always because of a mistake.
Braden and Jory had made a mistake they wouldn't have made if Aqura had been there.
"Because," Aqura bit out, "I want to know whether they had an argument or walked in and shot Jory and Braden right off."
Mako gave a soft, "oh," and five seconds later, said, "two minutes, twelve seconds between entering and leaving."
"A short conversation, then." Aqura said. That was a start, but what did it mean? No conversation was a hit, a long conversation was an argument that got out of hand, but what did it mean if they'd basically exchanged pleasantries and then the newcomers had killed Braden and Jory?
"They gloated," Mako whispered darkly.
"I- what?"
"They gloated," Mako repeated. "Just like every two-cred gang leader on Nar Shadaa. They got the drop on the old men, and they gloated about it."
Aqura nodded. It made sense. That was why the single blaster bolt. Braden must have tried to draw his gun at the last second, knowing he wouldn't stand a chance.
"A criminal, then?" Aqura threw the idea out there. She was no detective. A bit of experience wasn't helping anyone right now. Mako was doing all the real work.
"That doesn't make sense. Unless..." The computer keys clacked for another few seconds.
Another idea occurred to Aqura. "Do you think a hutt might have sent somebody after Braden?"
That would beg the question of who to kill. The hutt, the killers, or all three?
All three. The hutt, for sending the killers, and the gunmen, for doing the killing.
"No," Mako answered. "Braden was too smart to get on the wrong side of a hutt. At least, any on this planet. I just can't think of why... damn it! There's nothing on Nem'ro's cameras. These two should have visited his palace. Everything goes through Nem'ro around here!"
"Check the spaceport," Aqura suggested.
"Why?"
"Because maybe they're not trying for a getaway, but if they are, then we want to catch them before they escape. And if they just pulled a hit in a Hutt's territory without telling him, they won't want to stay long."
It was another twenty seconds before Mako turned and ran for the door with an inarticulate cry.
Aqura grabbed her, clamping down hard on her shoulder, so hard that the girl's feet flew out from under her. The hunter had to take her weight and put her back down, feet first.
"Bomb?" Aqura asked.
"They're at the spaceport! We have to get there!" Mako looked frantic.
"I have to get there," Aqura corrected her, pushing past her. "You're staying here and locking the door."
"But-"
"I'll move faster without you," Aqura interrupted. It wasn't even half the reason she was leaving the girl behind, but it was the fastest thing Aqura could think of to convince her. "Unless you have hydraulics in your legs you haven't mentioned."
Mako went silent, though the look on her face said exactly how much she liked the idea of staying back.
"Good," Aqura said, clicking a few buttons on her bracer and unclasping a latch. She took hold of a small block and pulled it from the bracer, then handed it to Mako. "Take this," she said. "If anybody tries anything, point this end at them and pull this lever back."
Then she was out the door before Mako could finish the question, "is this a flamethr-?"
Men and women dove for cover as the golden Mandalorian crashed through the cantina. Nothing got in the way of a Mandalorian on the warpath. Aqura was out of the building and in the streets in seconds.
The spaceport was a few blocks away. Through a gang warzone, but that was barely a detail. She put a blaster bolt through a gamorrean pig-man who looked at her the wrong way and activated an override in her suit's hydraulics.
Hopefully Mako was better at suit maintenance than she was. This was going to break a few things.
She crashed through the streets, nearly running into a woman who was too slow to dodge the charging bounty hunter. Aqura barely kept her footing when she landed after the quick jetpack boost that kept her from killing the woman.
At the spaceport, there was much of the same, people dodging left and right to keep out of the way of charging beskar'gam.
"Hangar four," Mako's voice told her. "I've got their manifest. Tarro Blood and Sedyn Kyne."
"Blood?" Aqura recognized the name. Old stories her aunts and uncles used to tell about the last Great Hunt often featured the man. "He's Mandalorian. Run out of the last Hunt by the clans for being an arrogant, honourless upstart."
She grabbed a doorframe, spun, and practically flew into the hangar.
Too late. The ship was already taking off!
"Sabotage," Mako said. "That's what this was! He killed Jory and Braden to keep us out of the Hunt!"
Aqura ignored the girl. There were more important things right now, like figuring out how to stop that ship. She took stock of her options. Blaster, vibroblade, power armour. Nothing that could take out a freighter or get her inside. Around her lay the detritus of a poorly-maintained spaceport. Fuel lines, junk metal, bits of plasteel and who-knew-what from travelers who knew a little extra mess would go unnoticed.
There, at the end of the fuel line, adjacent to the main tank.
The blade sprang from Aqura's bracer, out over the back of her fist. She brought it down once, twice, three times, cutting through fuel lines and one old, rusted bolt.
The hydraulics in her armour strained, but she managed to lift the secondary fuel tank. It was small, about the size of her own armoured torso. Still very heavy.
As the ship's engines roared, so did she, straining to turn and throw the tank up at the fleeing murderers.
The tank sailed up into the air. Not high enough. Even as her blaster came up and she fired on the tank, she knew it wouldn't work. The first shot missed, and the second didn't ignite the tank, but the third one-
The sky lit up blindingly bright, and the sound hit her a half a second before the force did. She was thrown against the side of the hangar with a clang that would have been deafening, if her ears hadn't already been ringing from the explosion.
Up above, a man peered out of the cockpit of the ship. He was armoured, with brown hair and, she imagined, a smug expression on his face. His ship's newly-blackened hull might have surprised him, but he turned away from her. The ship turned as well. Then it was gone, accelerating into space, where Aqura couldn't follow.
She'd failed. Jory's killer had escaped. Braden was going to rot unavenged. Her family was going to find out she'd let a friend die on her watch.
"When you catch him, tell him-"
"He's gone, Mako," Aqura whispered into her comm. She couldn't even muster the energy to stand. She just sat there, in the middle of the filthy spaceport, leaning against the grimy wall she'd been slammed into by her own stupid, unsuccessful attack.
"G-gone? What do you mean, gone?"
There was a hint of hope in Mako's voice, just a small part of her that must have wondered if Aqura was just saying that Blood was dead. It hurt to dash that hope, almost as much as everything else hurt. Aqura's body, her eyes and ears, her pride. Idly, she activated her armour's kolto healing unit. Just a small injection, something to keep the bruises at a minimum.
"He escaped," she clarified quietly. "He was already on the ship when I got here."
"B-but..." Mako trailed off for a minute. Then, just as Aqura was considering standing up, she spoke again. "I've got it all here. Blood's entry into the Great Hunt, then a bunch of independent entrants dropping out. There's a ton of articles here, obituaries and news articles about murders and assassinations, all people helping the entrants."
"Yeah," Aqura laughed bitterly, "because the rules say he can't kill rival entrants."
"And their support crews are fair game," Mako agreed. "But that's not the point. What I'm saying is, this proves he's in the Great Hunt."
Like a light going on, Aqura caught on. "So all we have to do is get into the Hunt, and we can track him down."
There was another option. All she had to do was tell Mako about it. Tarro Blood wasn't popular amongst the Mandalorians, but they tolerated him. They wouldn't, if Aqura told her family about the attack. Aqura could argue that it was an attack on a fellow Mandalorian. There'd be an on-sight kill bounty on Tarro before the day was out.
All Aqura had to do was accept she'd failed, tell her family, and give up the chance to get revenge for a man who'd helped raise her.
Aqura stood up gingerly, taking it easy on her suit's hydraulics and her own battered body.
"Put in the call to Nem'ro," Aqura told Mako. "Tell him Aq- Tell him Mandokarla's coming to talk about that Great Hunt sponsorship."
Blood was going to have a very fitting name when she caught up with him.
