After Torian left, Bel'anna and Gault prepped the body for transport, used a tractor beam to latch it to the speeders, and sped back to her ship. Once Jicoln was loaded in the cargo bay, she marched up the steps of the Mantis and told Mako to make the call.

Three hunters appeared over the holo-Bloodworthy, Nightbringer, and the Defenestrator. Bloodworthy said, "Glad to see you're still alive—you've been out there a while."

Jew'la Nightbringer bit back a smile. "Really didn't wanna come back empty-handed, did you?"

"Calling it quits?" Bloodworthy said, his eyes flicking to Jew'la's. "No shame in bowing out after a good fight."

Bel'anna couldn't help but jut her chin up as she crossed her arms. "The pot's mine, Bloodworthy. Body's in the cargo bay. Bioscan incoming." She pointed at Mako to upload the necessary files.

The Champions froze, like Manka cats crouching to spring. The Defenestrator pulled out a pad to receive the data, and after a tension-filled moment, said, "These scans match the data I have on file."

Jew'la's painted eyebrows shot up. "You actually caught him?" Then she burst out laughing. "Ha! How do you like that?"

Bloodworthy nodded, looking at Bel'anna with all new appreciation. "Would've been a shame if old age turned out to be the only match for Jicoln Cadera." He shook his head, then pulled out his own data pad. "Transferring your jackpot now."

The Defenestrator said, "Impressive work. Records indicate you are the twenty-eighth hunter to place a stake on that bounty. Twelfth to return." Bel'anna couldn't help but push her shoulders a little further back. A glance at Mako confirmed that the credits were rolling in.

Jew'la's mirth faded, replaced by a jagged edge to her tone that matched the harshness of her features. "Don't look so proud of yourself. You bagged somebody's grandpa. Your lucky streak won't last."

Bel'anna snarled. Sure-a grandpa that you couldn't bag. "Care to put your money where your mouth is?"

Jew'la smirked. "Sweetheart, I don't have to."

Bloodworthy cut in before Bel'anna could start threatening one of the few hunters who might actually have an edge on her. "All right, Jew'la, we've all got better things to do than talk trash. I'll make arrangements for the Mandalorians to take Jicoln off your hands. Expect a shuttle shortly. We'll be in touch." The holograms blinked out, and Bel'anna finally started to relax.

It didn't take long for the Mandalorians to make contact. Bel'anna had just changed into lighter armor so that she could clean her heavy duty equipment when her holo pinged. She tagged Gault as she went down the ramp. He grumbled loudly about burning his best clothes, but she dragged him behind her in his second best. She met three Mandalorians in the spaceport dock. To her surprise, Torian was with them, and she nodded in greeting. It was good to see a trustworthy face.

"Burc'ya," the Mandalorian up front said. She recognized his face as the same scum who'd tried to shoo her away from the camp on Drommund Kaas—Jogo, she thought. "Wasting no time earning new honors, I see. We've been sent to collect the traitor from you."

"He's in the cargo bay," Bel'anna said, jutting her thumb over her shoulder toward the ramp. "Gault can take you to him."

"We'll make this quick," the Mandalorian said, and he and one of his companions walked past Bel'anna to her ship.

Torian stepped forward. "Need to ask you a favor, champion." He clearly hadn't had time to clean up; his mismatched armor still looked ridiculous, and he was covered in grime as she still was.

"What is it, Torian?"

"I want to come with you." He straightened his shoulders. "I mean to serve, join your hunts, earn respect for my clan."

"I'm for it!" Gault said, coming out from behind Bel'anna. "Ship's pretty boring when you're off doing your thing." The other Mandalorians carried Jicoln's body between them down the ramp, and Bel'anna moved aside so they could proceed.

"Give me this honor," Torian said. His eyes were fierce, unwavering.

I could use a warrior like that any day. "Of course," Bel'anna said. "I'm flattered. Welcome aboard."

"Thank you," Torian said.

"We're done," Jogo said. "Coming, Torian?"

"Nope."

"Tch," Jogo said. "You can finally show your face, and now you're running off. Try to make something of yourself, arue'tal." He and his companion Marched down the dock.

Torian's expression had hardened. Bel'anna didn't need to speak Mando'a to know that "arue'tal" wasn't a name to be used so jokingly. He looked at her with determination and said. "Ready when you are."

They climbed back on board the D.S. Mantis, and Bel'anna sealed the hatch after them. Gault led the way to the main deck, and Torian and Bel'anna followed him up the stairs. Once on the bridge, Bel'anna got Mako's and C2's attention.

"This is Torian," Bel'anna said. "He'll be joining us, so get properly introduced."

"Always room for one more in my book," Mako said. "I'm Mako."

Gault bowed dramatically, despite having met Torian already. "Gault Rennow, at your service."

"C2-N2, ship's maintenance," the droid chirped.

"Pleasure," Torian said.

"Not much to look at, but it's home," Mako said.

"No complaints," Torian said.

Bel'anna snorted and grinned at Mako. "Remember what it looked like when we stole it?" Mako laughed, and even Torian—after a moment of surprise—gave a thin smile.

"Got me there," Mako said. She gestured to Torian. "Come on—I'll give you the tour." She pointed toward the cockpit, and Bel'anna let her lead him away. While Mako shoed Torian around, Bel'anna finally took the opportunity to shower, then abandoned armor for a short time in favor of simple clothing. In no particular rush to be anywhere, she went to the lower deck to clean her armor.

Just as she was starting on her helmet, Torian came up beside her. Her hands continued to work as she looked up at him. "Mako show you around?"

He nodded. "A good enough base of operations."

"It is. I wasn't thinking about the long-haul when I got it in the first place, but I've grown attached." She examined his appearance, still rough from the long time on Taris. "We'll need to get you some new armor first thing. In the meantime, though, Gault's probably got some clothes to spare. You can clean up, then we'll see that wound again."

His hand went to his side. "Right. Kolto's starting to wear off." He looked down, his hair falling over his eyes. "Thanks for the help on Taris. Decent of you to let me in on the kill. You didn't have to do that."

"It was your kill to make," Bel'anna said, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn bit of rakghoul muck. "You deserved that honor."

"Vor entye," Torian said. "Looking forward to this. Not everyone gets to fight beside the Champion of the Great Hunt."

She smiled, more to herself than to him. "No, they don't."

He started taking off his outer armor and setting it on the workbench next to hers, clearly intending to clean his own as well. "What sort of jobs are coming up? Hunting? Mercenary work?"

"Why—what are you interested in?" Bel'anna said.

"Something hard enough to sharpen myself on," Torian said as his chestplate thunked to the counter. "Been in a few skirmishes, but treaty with the Republic made real fighting scarce. Like to see something worthy."

She smiled and set aside her polished helmet. "Trust me-if there's a worthy fight out there, I'll find it."

"Knew coming with you was a good idea." He unfastened his leg armor and set it on the ground, sighing as he slipped off his boots. Like her, he wore simple black clothes under his armor. "Our people need battle to find out who we are. Mando without war is like a starship without space."

"As is a hunter without a hunt," Bel'anna said. She scrubbed at her chestplate. "Guess we better find you a war, then."

"Looking forward to it."

The sound of their scrubbing synchronized, two warriors falling into routine. The scent of sterile chemicals gradually began to replace the rakghoul filth they'd smeared everywhere. The physical rhythm of cleaning helped clear her thoughts, despite the exhaustion in her muscles and the soreness from her injuries that was starting to ebb through the fading kolto.

Bel'anna was jarred out of cleaning by Mako's voice cracking over the intercom. "Uh…Bel'anna? I have an incoming message."

Bel'anna set down her supplies and pressed the intercom button. "Who is it? You sound shaken"

"It's a Sith Lord," she said. "Says he wants to talk to you right away."

Bel'anna frowned. "Be right up." She shot a glance at Torian, who had also stopped his cleaning to lower his eyebrows in confusion that mirrored her own. When she bound up the stairs, she heard him follow. "Put him through," Bel'anna told Mako. "Probably wants another Sith Lord dead."

The man whose image appeared over the holoterminal was impressive, even by Bel'anna standards. His shoulders were twice as wide as hers, and that was without the bulk of durasteel. Thick black hair covered his jaw and framed his face. The skin she could see was scarred, and a dark tattoo ringed one eye.

"Bel'anna Tor," he said, his voice deep and tinged with the Imperial accent.

Bel'anna stepped forward. "That's right."

"I am Lord Archajel, apprentice to Darth Baras. I have been searching for you. Meet me in Kaas City at once."

Bel'anna raised her eyebrows. "I'm on another job, so you'll have to wait your turn." It wasn't distinctly true, but she was sure the champions were going to contact her within the day with her next task.

"You don't want to put me off," he said. "This concerns your family."

She flinched. "I have no family."

"You did, once," he said. "If you want to know more, meet me in the Nexus Room Cantina in two days." His image blinked out.

Mando'a Translations:

Burc'ya. Friend.

Arue'tal. Traitor.

Vor entye. Thank you.