Author's note:
Eyyy. Noting here that I have Dyslexia and usually, I'm pretty good at catching obvious mistakes, but not perfect! I generally read over my work fairly often so I'll be fixing grammar/glow mistakes as I go.
-Nevarro-
It is 10ABY and the woman is now 24.
Anthadme exited her ship with a grumble. Following closely behind her was Balosar. The woman looked up to her Bantha and raised her hand well above her head. It was the only way she could reach the Bantha's nose.
"Fuel is getting expensive, Balosar," she said solemnly, running her hand through the hair that fell around the Bantha's mouth, "If we don't get a few good bounties, or at least one good one, I'm going to have to start leaving you on this planet four bounties and get a smaller ship."
The Bantha raised her head and let out a deep groan that vibrated through Anthadme's ribcage. She chuckled at her pet's reaction, "Don't you start, girl. I'm sure we'll figure something out. If we don't... You'll be fine waiting on Nevarro for me to return, yes?"
Balosar put her head down to look Anthadme in the eyes and stayed silent.
"Yeah, yeah. Okay. Let's get out of here," Anthadme said, putting her helmet on, "Oru!" she called, causing the Bantha to lower her head. The woman climbed on the back of her Bantha and situated herself in the crook of its neck.
"Rak!" she instructed, and the Bantha began walking toward the town.
((Tusken Raider Language: Oru = Drop. Rak = Move/Walk!))
When Anthadme ran from home to avoid her adopted Father, a Mandalorian zealot trying to convert her from a Foundling to a Mandalorian, she didn't think to take anything besides Balosar and her Gaffi stick.
That meant she lacked the money to upgrade her gear. There wasn't much profit since she needed a large ship, and a lot of fuel, to git her Bantha.
So there she sat, sitting atop a Bantha that even the tallest man had to look up to see the head of.
She was donned in loose fabrics, furs, and random bits of Plastoid armor. Most of the pockets on her belt were filled with Sandbat venom, but there were also a few emergency grenades that she kept just in case.
Anthadme's helmet was constructed to crudely resemble the Tusken Raider masks. It was something she spent most of her life wearing and growing accustomed to.
Both ends of her Gaffii Stick were upgraded with a VibroBlade tip that supported electroshocks. The staff, in the center of the Gaffi Stick, was replaced with a graphite hilt to prevent backfires. Other than that, a simple Blaster was hooked to her waist.
(A link to ref her helmet and clothes: /a/Pyg7NVS
Imagine this helmet, but without the extra bump on the top of her head. The tubes to the breather on her chest attach directly to the cheek sections of the mask.
Imagine those clothes and Gaffii Stick with bits of armor on her chest, shoulders, and elbows made of Plastoid. That's the same material Stormtrooper armor is made of, but her's is dark, scuffed, and beat up.)
When she reached the Cantina she slid down the side of her Bantha and looked around her. Per usual, anyone that Anthadme didn't recognize to be a local was staring at her like she was going to attack at any moment.
"What are the Tusken Raiders doing here?"
"Are they finally accepting of other people?"
"Are they here to trick us?"
"Is she going to kill us?"
"What's under the mask?"
"Is she even humanoid?"
She would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy the way the people looked at her. It kept them away from her.
Anthadme smiled under her mask, happy that no one knew who she was.
Sure, a Tusken Raider mingling with people is odd enough that word might get back to her father on Tatooine, but it had been years since she left and he hadn't come for her yet.
She hoped it was because he finally accepted that she didn't want to swear by the Resol'nare. That was a far stretch.
The thoughts hurt her, so she wished the visions of her parents out of her head and walked into the cantina. She was immediately met with an overly ecstatic Greef Karga.
"Tusky!" He called, causing her to growl in the back of her throat.
She hated that nickname. It felt like it was disgracing her tribe. The Tusken Raiders were her people. Even if she could not return to them she was born and raised with their ideals. She felt obligated to defend them.
Even if they were crazy.
Even so, she never argued over Greef's offensive nickname. He might ask for a different name if she did and she had none to give him.
Anthadme silently approached the table Greef was sitting at. It was then she noticed the Mandalorian armor sitting across from him. The Mandalorian's back was to her, but his sight still caused her breath to hitch in her throat.
Just as fast as she noticed him, she recognized him to be a fellow Bounty Hunter she's seen in Nevarro over the past few years. She saw him often, but it didn't change how much she hated seeing him.
He reminded her of her Father and everything she was running from.
She stood to the side of the table the men sat at and said nothing.
"Still not talking to me, huh?" He questioned with sarcastic cheerfulness, "No matter! I'm sure you want your next job, yes?"
Anthadme looked to the Mandalorian sitting across from him and pointed in his direction, cocking her head to the side. She said no words, but the Bounty Hunter and Guild Master knew what she was saying.
'Why are we discussing Guild matters with multiple Bounty Hunters present? It is customary to complete your business with each one individually and only then moving onto the next,' is what that gesture meant.
Greef put his right hand up in a defensive manner, closing his eyes as he rocked his hand back and forth for a moment to represent a gesture that said 'Calm down'.
He opened his eyes and pointed at the Mandalorian, "Now hear me out, Tusky. I've got a job, a big job, that I'd like the two of you to work together o-"
As soon as he said the words 'work together', Anthadme turned on her heel and headed for the door.
A hand reached out and grabbed her wrist to prevent her from leaving. The hand missed her wrist and grabbed the base of her gloved hand, just under her thumb. Then the person pulled, causing the furs and fabrics of her sleeve to slide.
This exposed a star-shaped brand on her wrist. There were small bits of black speckled on the inside of the scar tissue. To others, it looked like an intentional galaxy for what they could assume was an aesthetically pleasing body modification.
In reality, the star was a brand her Father gave her to cover her slave numbers. The star was a means to prevent someone from knowing she was a slave by hiding the numbers and a sentimental piece to their family.
Her father was once a slave and his numbers were tattooed on his shoulder blade. When he freed himself he covered the numbers with a Star brand. When he freed his daughter he did the same for her.
She realized the goal of grabbing her was to get her back to the table.
She realized that didn't make touching her okay.
She realized the man didn't mean to expose a private piece of her life.
She realized the man didn't even know what was there when he revealed her wrist.
She didn't know if anyone saw.
She hoped they didn't, not knowing that the Mandalorian definitely did.
He assumed that the mark was a body modification. However, he was too smart to think there wasn't a story behind it. A story he may never ask for.
It was none of his business.
Anthadme felt exposed and the emotions of Tatooine rushed back into her skull like a freight train heading for a brick wall. With nowhere to go, it smashed through her head and exposed itself in the form of violence.
She let out a loud, pained, and angry growl as she withdrew her Gaffii Stick.
The cantina fell silent, heads turning toward the situation.
With a swift flick of her thumb, the Gaffii Stick came to life and emitted a soft glow of blue with a loud hum of electricity.
The Mandalorian retracted his hand from her wrist just as fast as she drew her weapon. He put one hand up, palm facing her, and used the other to sign 'I'm sorry'.
Obviously, she could understand Greef, but he didn't know how much of the common tongue she knew. At this point, as the offending party, he realized it was within his best interest to play it safe and use both languages.
Anthadme breathed both deeply as she stood above the Mandalorian who still had a fist to his chest from the signing.
Greef stood slowly. When Anthadme noticed this she jolted, pointing the other end of her Gaffii stick at him.
Greef responded to this motion by putting his hands in the air to show signs of surrender, "Well shit, Tusk. I didn't know your weapon could do that," He said, pointing to the electricity breathing off her Gaffii Stick.
She knew he was trying to distract her and she wanted it to work.
"But, it must be expensive to charge, yes?" His asked.
It was expensive to charge. Greef Karga knew she was flying a Bantha around in a spaceship bigger than the two of them needed. He knew Banthas were a prized possession of the Tusken Raiders. He also knew fuel for such a large ship was expensive.
He made her consider her Bantha over her rage and it worked.
Anthadme took one final deep breath and flipped the switch on her Gaffii Stick. When the charge came to a full stop she put the weapon back on her back.
The Mandalorian lowered his hands and moved to the side, offering her a seat at the table. The two men wanted to take advantage of the diffused situation before it erupted again. They both assumed the rage of a Tusken Raider must be short-fused.
Greef Karga slid back into his seat, "You must be thirsty, yes?" He questioned, "If you take a seat and listen to what we have to say, I'll buy you a drink." His famous manipulative smile returned to his face.
Anthadme rolled her eyes from under her mask. Every time, every fucking time. Greef Karga, in a desperate attempt to see her face, always offered to buy her a drink in the hopes she would take it off and reveal the mystery. Her eyes wandered to the Mandalorian, wondering if he ever tried the same antics with him.
The woman took a moment before taking the seat next to the Mandalorian. Reluctantly.
"Great!" Greef called out, waving the bartender with his hand, "Please, drinks for me and my friends!"
Anthadme's hands, resting on the table, clenched. The Mandalorian took note of this, "Not a fan of friends?" He questioned.
She turned her head and looked directly at the Mandalorian. She wanted him to know she recognized that he said something. She also wanted him to know that she purposely chose to not answer it.
An awkward moment passed where Greef remained silent as well, excited to hear her answer.
Or any words from her, for that matter.
When she said nothing, the Mandalorian sighed, "Right. Not a fan of people."
He couldn't see it, but a twisted smile spread across her face under her mask.
If he was picking it up this fast maybe he would let it go. Maybe he wouldn't ask a thousand questions in some kind of hope that she might answer one as most people did.
Maybe he wouldn't be so bad to work with.
"Shame," Greef frowned, realizing she wasn't going to say anything. The drinks arrived and he took a sip before getting serious.
"Look, the two of you are the best I've got. There's a big job that's been bouncing off many Bounty Hunters and none of them have been able to complete it. I need the two of you, working together, to complete the job," Greef said, setting his drink down and raising his hands in an 'offering' gesture.
Anthadme thought for a moment, but the Mandalorian asked the question she was thinking.
"If we're the best you've got, why didn't you come to one of us first? How do you know the job is that hard if you've been going to the lower end of the talent first? Why didn't this come to one of us first?"
His words acted as a challenge to Greef. 'This job is probably very simple, but you trusted dimwits instead of coming to the pros' was basically what he said.
"You don't understand," Greef said, "Guild Masters on other planets have been giving this job out. Nothing but failures! I'm sure they all sent their best and I'm sure they were nothing compared to the two of you, but I need this job done. I need it done, I need it done fast, and I need it done right. There's a lot of money on the table and we might be able to put the Nevarro Guild on the grid for more clients to come and pay Guild prices," he paused, "Work together, get it done, and we all get rich."
They all sat in silence for a moment. Anthadme thumbed the edge of her drink in contemplation. After a brief moment of silence, she raised her hand from the cup and said 'Money' in sign language.
'How much?' she silently asked.
Greef smirked, withdrawing a chit from his pocket, "No puck. No chain code. Direct contact," He said. The woman was about to sign that he didn't answer her question, but he saw the contemplation in her face and explained himself, "Do you know how much clients pay for non-formal deals?"
The woman pressed her lips together and tilted her head, considering it. After a moment she folded her hands together and nodded her head.
The Mandalorian reached his hand to take the chit, but Greef withdrew his hand, "You can only have it if you agree to work together."
Both Anthadme and the Mandalorian looked to one another, "Do you want to make money, or not?" was all he asked.
She thought about her Bantha and how bad she wanted to keep taking it with her on trips.
She contemplated all of the worst possible outcomes she could think of.
Instead of responding to him, in any way, she turned her head to Greef and held her hand out for the chit.
Greef gave a wild smile and allowed her to take it from his hand. Once the chit was in her possession her and the Mandalorian stood from the table and exited the cantina.
Author's note:
I'm still in the "this story is a new and awesome idea so I'm going to be updating frequently" vibe.
Don't forget to like/comment! Helps me know what you're thinking, what parts you enjoy, what I need to elaborate on, and how much you like/dislike the story!