Corridan Ordo laughed in sheer unadulterated delight as he yanked his helmet off, so that the moisture clinging to the back of his head highlighted the dark edges of his hair. He reached out to clasp the arm of the warrior he'd been sparring with, shouting out, "Jate akaanir!"

Vorten Fett yanked his own armored helmet loose from his bald head, shaking his head hard enough droplets of sweat went flying. He grinned back at Corridan, reaching out to grasp his arm, "It was a good fight, Corridan! And fun, too." Fett smiled as the two captains were suddenly thronged by their respective warriors. Yells and shouts of advice rang out, echoed down at them from the yawning ceiling overhead, as the two groups began arguing the various techniques their respective alor'ads used during the match.

The din of noise they made as they playfully pushed and gestured amongst each other added to the overall pandemonium filling the Enclave. Fighters and warriors from throughout the multitude of clans filled the space, everyone there eager to witness the start of the Great Hunt. Corridan waved towards Torian, gesturing him close. "Vorten! This is Torian Cadera, one of my finest fighters. And my friend," Corridan slapped his fist against Torian's shoulder, hard enough Torian stumbled.

Torian rolled his eyes as he shoved back at Corridan, "Not going to impress anyone with my balance when you do that, ner vod." But Corridan just laughed, tossing an arm across Torian's shoulders before he smiled over at Vorten again.

Vorten nodded. He focused his cybernetic gaze on the blonde-haired Mando, blatantly sizing him up through the metallic implants covering his eye. He grunted out, "Cadera. Jicoln's son?"

Torian's jaw clenched. His shoulders grew tense under Corridan's arm. But he didn't turn away. Nor did he drop his head in any sort of shame. "I'm Aily Cadera's son. I never even knew my father."

Vorten Fett grunted again, "Jicoln should have considered that consequence when he chose to act with dishonor. You'd have been a son worthy of pride to any man, I can see." High praise, actually. Torian felt a ball of warmth curl in his belly. Vorten eyed Corridan balefully then, "I'll win our next match, you damn hodar. And stay away from my clan's women. They deserve better than your smooth words and boastful self."

"No boasts, Vorten! I don't need to tell lies, anyway! No! It's all true!" Corridan crowed, while the warriors gathered around him cheered. They pumped their fists into the air in another mad clamor of riotous excitement.

Vorten grinned. He leaned in close for another moment, his implant gleaming over his ruined eye as he murmured, "Remember what I asked, Corridan. Ret'!" Torian frowned as the older warrior turned to move away, his soldiers nodding as they followed after him. He glanced at Corridan.

"What's he looking for, Corridan?"

"Fighters. His squad has some work in the days ahead and he's looking for additional fighters to join his ranks." Corridan rolled his shoulders, "I want you to be one of them. It's why I pressed you forward."

Torian pursed his lips as he considered. The opportunity to join Fett's team was something worthy, would earn him a new, honorable place among the clans. Something beyond the safety of Ordo, where everyone waved their hands and whispered how Ordo and Cadera were always allies. Torian wanted to show them he could stand on his own, earn his own place. So he asked, "What sort of jobs?"

"Jobs closer to the Enclave. Closer to the Mandalore, too. Jobs that get you noticed, seen; that earn honor." Corridan looked at Torian with a serious expression on his face, "It will mean winning your name all over again, of course. Not that you'd be losing what you won with us, either. You know I consider you vod, Torian."

Torian grinned at him, joking, "You only like the way the women follow me around. Gives you some small chance to win their attentions."

Corridan laughed. "Hah! You go off for two days with a twi'lek and think you can compete with the best. I'll show you how to impress the ladies, Torian! Not that it's hard to do here on Dromund Kaas. Imperial women tend to think Mandalorians are like some kind of exotic prize, anyway." Then Corridan spun around, catching sight of a curvaceous figure trying to skirt around the group, "Speaking of ladies!"

Torian chuckled as the red headed woman with a voluptuous form encased in heavy green leathers pointed a finger towards Corridan, "Don't you dare bother with me, you goat of a Mando!"

"Seems she has you well placed, Corridan," Torian bent over, holding his sides as he laughed. Around him, the Mandalorians burst out into raucous peels of loud amusement, especially when Corridan rushed over to the short woman to pick her up and swing her around.

"How dare you question my appeal, Crysta! You'll have to make it up to me! Swear it!" But Crysta only squealed, slapping at Corridan's chest and shoulders as she quickly grew dizzy. Corridan lowered his head, pressed his lips against Crysta's cheek where he proceeded to blow wild raspberries against her skin. Crysta shrieked shrilly, swinging her fist into the side of Corridan's head so hard he nearly dropped her. He lowered her to the ground instead, and then he clutched his head dramatically, "Wounded! You've wounded me, woman! Argh!"

The warriors broke into new rounds of hilarity, all of them calling out to Crysta to forgive the Mando and soothe his "wounds". She bit her lip, trying not to laugh as she waved her hands in the air, "Leave off, all of you, geesh! You're not impressing me, I'm telling you!"

Corridan eyed her through the spaces between his fingers, which he still held over his face, adopting a properly curious mien, "Well then. What could we do that would work to impress you, then? Tell us! And we'll overcome any challenge you put before us, prove what incredible warriors we really are! Won't we, Mando'ad?" Corridan smiled when the troop of warriors around them cheered, pumping their fists into the air and yelled for her to challenge them.

Crysta shook her head, muttering about who was madder – Mandoes. Or herself, for surrounding herself with Mandoes. Finally, she laughed and crooked a single finger towards Corridan, who duly leaned forward to hear her whisper the challenge against his ear. He laughed then, throwing his head backwards as he called out, "I can do that, Crysta! Come on, warriors! We go to the melee!" Corridan leaned over and thrust his shoulder into Crysta's stomach, lifting her up and over his shoulder. Cyrsta hung against him and laughed like some mad bird, as the Mandalorians proceeded into the arena where the entire Enclave was gathering.

Torian stepped close to Corridan as they took their places against the walls of the Clan Ordo section of the arena hall. Crysta shook her head as she settled next to Corridan, trying to stop her head from spinning. She leaned over, peering down towards the arena floor where the assistant huntmaster Lek was addressing the hunters.

Torian watched as Corridan patted Crysta's rump firmly. She slapped at his hand, snarled how she'd lop it off if he touched her butt again. Corridan playfully surrendered, holding his hands up in the air and laughing, "It was just too tempting a sight, I swear." Then Corridan looked down at the hunters, too. He grunted sourly, "Sorry looking group."

"That's cause you ain't seen my girl yet." Crysta elbowed Corridan in the side, pointing as a female figure moved into view, "There she is! Coming into the arena now! Purty thing, even if she don't put on no airs. And overcome everything tossed her way to get here today. I'm telling you, Cor. That there is the hunter to beat this time around. She's going to take the title of Champion by the time it's finished. I'd bet my last credit on it, I kid you not!"

Torian craned his head to catch sight of the newcomer. Her armor was worn tight against her frame and fitted well, the leathers stained with blues and browns. Her feminine curves, both her front and backside, were sweet-looking, tempting – a perfect female frame that her armor only highlighted, not hid away.

She had no helmet obscuring her face, although Torian couldn't exactly make out her features from where he was standing. But her hair was black, cropped close against the nape of her neck and framing her face, and her skin was pale and smooth, creamy-looking. Except for the twisted edges of scars against the side of her face, that curved down and under the collar of her armor's underlining. He could see the glinting of implants lining her eyes, as well. Someone ripped the woman apart at one point, he thought.

Corridan eyed her curiously, asked, "Implants to boost her skills, Crysta?"

"Only if you count hearing a mere skill. Girl's deaf without 'em, anyway. Wounded when she was still little, from what I can gather. Leastwise, the scars look old." Crysta glanced at Corridan, serious suddenly, "Lek was impressed by her."

Corridan blinked. Lek was a hard taskmaster, an oldster who'd survived countless battles to reach the position where younger warriors asked him for guidance and training alike. Corridan grumbled as he eyed the strange hunter again, "Takes a lot to impress that old man."

Crysta shook her head, "Shit! My girl just talks, and you're impressed. I'm not even joking! But she's got talent to back it up, too. Never seen the like."

Torian grunted thoughtfully, never taking his eyes off the woman as she stepped into the arena. Lek turned to bark something at her, but she only shrugged back at him, unconcernedly. He wished he could've heard the words. He didn't look up from her as he remarked, "Thought you were good friends with Jewl'a, Crysta. You think this hunter is better?" Crysta was quiet for a long moment. Long enough both Corridan and Torian finally looked over at her, catching her regarding the hunter below with extraordinary consideration. Finally, she looked back at them. She nodded at them, "Yea. She's better. But if you ever tell Jewl'a I said so, I'll cut off yer balls. You hear me?"

Corridan made soothing noises, grinning as he leaned over as if to blow more raspberries against her neck. But Crysta laughed, waving him away as she went back to watching the match. Torian was already ignoring them both again. He was fascinated with the hunter, watching her move as she settled into a ready stance there on the arena floor. She carried two blasters and held them steadily as she looked around. She was measuring each one of her opponents. A smart move, Torian thought.

There was a female Mirialan hunter, thin and petite; a couple of humans, both male; a Trandoshan with rather yellow-looking scaly skin – even a Gamorrean, with his pig-like features bulging out of dark armor.

Torian grunted when the hunter subtly turned towards the Mirialan, correctly surmising the greatest threat came from the slight-looking female. The others would fight amongst themselves, anyway, disregarding the females until the end. And then the superior skills of one or the other female would quickly dispatch whoever had managed to survive.

The hunter was responding capably to the shape the battle would take, even before it started. Like she could see the rhythm and pulse of the fight over the arena sands, even before the first shot. It was a real skill, that. The best fighters remained a step ahead of their enemies, and regardless of their size and brawn.

"Did Lek just say he thought the hunter was dead?" Corridan asked Crysta. Torian glanced over at Crysta, saw her nodding.

"That's what we were told earlier. Ask me, and it's more like someone was trying to make sure she was dead before the melee."

Torian scowled, "Cheating happening?"

"Oh shit yea. Although all within the bounds of the rules, so far." Crysta grumbled bitterly, "Gratta reported my girl's team was slaughtered back on Hutta, for one. Only a little slip of a slicer girl survived to help her along the way. All her marks here on Dromund Kaas were made to be the hardest, most difficult ones, too." Crysta snorted, "Hells! Bastard from Imperial Intelligence that hired us for a job actually tried killing her after she nabbed his stupid tags, even!"

Torian looked back at the woman, canting his head as she tapped her blasters against her thighs and scanned the arena again. The hunter was focused on the fight, not the cheering crowds in the stands overhead. He murmured, "But she didn't give up." His tone was thick, admiring. Then he frowned, "You said she was wounded when she was little. How?"

"Dunno. Not exactly a question you ask a person." Crysta laughed, "I don't ask Vorten Fett how he lost his eye, either. Don't think the question would go over so well. 'Come on, you can tell me!' Nope, I'm just assuming it was something done to her when she was little, cause the scars on her face are pretty old." She didn't notice the thoughtful expression on his face, as she leaned closer to the edge so she could see the hunter slowly easing her feet apart, bracing herself in place.

Corridan leaned his shoulder against Torian's side, rolling his eyes. "Have you fallen in love, Torian? Maybe we can make introductions after she wins the melee, huh? Crysta's her handler, anyway. She can probably make it happen." Crysta harrumphed loudly.

"Oh, no you don't! You leave the woman be! She's got a job to do, a Hunt to win!"

"Would you stand in the way of true love, Crysta?"

"True love, my ass. If it's so true, it will last long after she has the title of Grand Champion. Now leave me be!"

"But he'll have more competition after she has the title, too. Hey, now that I think about it …" Corridan leaned forward, looking at the woman hunter with an appraising regard, eyeing the curves her armor emphasized and whistling softly.

Crysta thumped him hard against the shoulder, "You leave her alone, too, dammit! I swear, I'm going to have that hunter off this damn planet hours after this melee is finished. I mean it! I need to keep all of you Mandoes away from her!"

Corridan clucked at her in mocking dismay, just as the first shots of the melee resounded. Torian shot forward, leaning over the edge of the spectator section to better see the hunters going at it, his fingers gripping the half-wall firmly.

As he'd supposed, his hunter had dodged the first shots from the Mirialan. She suddenly leaped towards the green-skinned female, bashing against the side of her head with one of her blasters before firing at her with the other. The Mirialan leaned left in just enough time to avoid losing her head to the first bolt.

But not the next. The hunter was loosing a second bolt directly on the heels of her first, so fast the whirl of her blasters moving up and over was a blur. It was a quick staccato shot that caught the Mirialan squarely in the chest and blasted her back and off the edge of the arena floor. Wild cheers broke from the crowd as the green-skinned female tumbled into a bleeding heap against the hard tiles of the floor below the arena.

The hunter swung around then. She jetted above the arena to fire an incredible burst of shots towards the last two men still fighting on the other side of the arena, and the crowds in the stands yelled and cheered wildly at the spectacle she made.

The Gamorrean's loud snorting squeals of pain rang out as his huge body absorbed the shots coming from the woman's blasters. The human he was fighting wisely leaped behind him during the firestorm from overhead, hunkering down in the terrible shelter the Gamorrean had suddenly become. He was ready by the time the Gamorrean dropped dead into the sand and the hunter fell back towards the arena. He fired just as her boots touched the sandy floor of the fighting surface.

But she smoothly jumped out of the way, prepared. She rolled to her side before coming up to a knee and holding up both of her blasters, her arms crossed over each other to better support her weapons as she proceeded to fire. She unloaded her blasters in a steady stream of shots towards the man she was fighting, the resounding noise of the attack filling the air even above the wild cheers that erupted from the crowd.

Torian leapt to his feet, yelling loudly in celebration as the hunter stood up straight over her downed rivals. She turned to face the crowd, her dark hair dripping with sweat and blood and sand. The Mandalorians called out wild cries, "Oya! Oya!" She regarded them all for a moment, breathing hard, an obvious rush of adrenalin thrilling through her. The scene was incredible, the excitement palpable, and Torian watched as a glad, proud smile finally etched its way across her face. He shouted when he saw her raise a fist into the air, declaring herself victor and cheering back at them. She nodded firmly then, before she moved off the arena floor, following after Lek, who was waving towards her.

Torian looked over at Crysta, his face stretched wide with a smile, "Are you certain you couldn't introduce me to her?"

Crysta shook her head, shooting rude hand gestures towards the other warriors around them calling over to her, "Dammit, no! You see the way Lek dragged her out of here? He knows as well as I do, she has work to do." She grasped his arm, leaned closer, "I mean it, Torian. You're not the only Mando here tonight who decided she was worth a look-see. There can't be any hint of collusion from the clans for any sponsored hunter. She has to prove herself, is what Mandalore himself has said."

Corridan smiled tightly, his eyebrow raised up as he glanced around at the nearby crowd, "That's a hunter worth watching, Torian. But Crysta's right. The Hunt is serious business."

Torian looked over at the door where the Hunter had disappeared, "I just … No, you're right." He sighed, shaking his head. There was something about the woman – something that demanded he get closer, to see her. He wanted to know who she was. Argued with himself, just to keep from following behind her. To know for sure …

It can't be her. Can't be. Impossible. The doctors told them she was dead. But … Torian shook himself as he turned away, followed Corridan as they stepped down from the stands and followed the milling crowds through the doors. Vorten Fett would want to talk to him some more, at the very least.

But Torian massaged his arm as they moved, felt the rustle of the blood-stained fabric he always wrapped around his forearm under his gauntlet. It can't be …