Bilba strode down the long hall, her irritation rapidly mounting. Behind her she could hear the rapid sound of boots as the guards tried to keep up with her while trying to maintain their dignity. She briefly considered breaking into a run, just to be contrary, but abandoned the idea. Given how much she'd already been aggravating them they were liable to simply shoot her and be done with it.
Her eyes cast about, trying to find something that would identify the owner of the place. The mansion had clearly been designed to impress, every inch screaming the owner's wealth and prestige. The outside had been near palatial in size and layout, built from massive, sand colored blocks and boasting numerous towers and rotundas, the latter capped with cupolas laid out in glittering gold and red tile.
She'd been brought from the spaceport by shuttle, a deliberate choice she imagined designed to let her see the splendor of the estate. From that vantage point she'd gotten a full view of the large gardens, laid out with exotic trees and plants. Some she'd been able to identify, others she had not. A crystal clear pool dominated the center of the largest garden, bordered by marble and boasting statues of what looked like coiling, twisting creatures but she'd been unable to tell what any of them were from that distance.
The interior was no less ostentatious. The halls were wide enough to march an army through, the floors polished marble and covered with thick rugs decorated with what appeared to be an Arkanian dragon. The walls were fitted with alcoves and filled with statues and delicate looking vases. Most of the statues seemed to deal with the same type of reptilian creature as the Arkanian dragon. She recognized a Howler, Mantigrue and Krayt. Others she'd never seen or heard of, including a massive statue depicting a strange worm like creature with horns and multiple legs she was quite sure she never wished to meet.
The end of the hall loomed ahead of her, finally, dominated by a set of doors. They were as large as the rest of the place, made from some sort of wood and carved with still more images of reptilian creatures, many of them inlaid with jewels.
She was beginning to have an idea of what the statues outside had probably been of.
Bilba stepped forward, expecting the door to hiss open before her but, to her surprise, it failed to do anything at all.
She blinked in surprise. The door wasn't pneumatic? There was no sign of a shield protecting it or any technology at all in fact.
It looked like it was just simply…a door.
Who wasted so many resources on showing off their wealth and then installed doors that had to be physically opened?
The two behind her moved forward and pushed the two doors open. Light spilled out and the sensors in her helmet adjusted, dimming the screen over her eyes before she could be momentarily blinded.
The light came from huge windows set in the wall on the opposite side of the room, overlooking the gardens outside. A large desk dominated the area in front of the windows. Bookcases lined the rest of the room and a large rug, matching the ones from the hall, was spread out across the floor.
One of the guards pushed her and she resisted the urge to punch him. Given the exoskeleton armor she wore greatly enhanced her strength, it would be a decidedly unpleasant experience for him.
She strode in and the guards took up position behind her just outside the room.
"Pollux Destron," a deep, far to smooth for her liking, voice spoke. "I'm pleased you were able to make it."
"Cut the crap," Bilba snapped, the synthesizer in her helmet deepening her voice and giving it a decidedly masculine tone. "You attacked my ship and forced me here against my will. Who are you and what do you want?"
Movement came from a large chair situated in front of a fireplace. A tall, spindly man with short dark hair and a sinister cast to his expression, rose and, almost sinuously, came around the edge of the chair.
"Straight to the point," he nearly purred. "I knew I liked you."
He paused, probably hoping she would ask how he knew who she was.
Bilba stayed silent.
He looked irritated for a brief instant but then his expression smoothed again and he moved toward his desk. "Fine. You are here because I have a job for you."
"Then why didn't you contact me like someone sane?" Bilba snapped. "Why all the drama?"
He opened a drawer on the desk and pulled out a small holoprojector. Dropping it on the desk he waved a hand over it and it activated, a scene forming over it.
Bilba felt a flash of unease but pushed it aside to study the holovid.
It was a young man, human or humanoid at least, striding down a street. The image was zoomed in to close to try and guess what planet he might be on. He was of average height and build as best she could tell given the other people he walked past, with shoulder length dark hair partly tied back. His face, when the camera caught sight of it, was young to the point of boyish though the easy confidence with which he carried himself suggested he was older than he looked, probably close to her own age. Short stubble covered his jaw, possibly from a hope it would make him look older which it might have were it not for the grin he kept on his face and the almost unnaturally happy bounce to his steps.
Her eyes narrowed as she took in the telltale beige clothing and the dark cape flowing about him. The entire scene was on a loop, soundless and barely ten seconds long, so after seeing it through the first time she focused on his hip, watching as the fabric swirled about him.
Someone passing him spoke to him and he half turned to respond. The cloak moved and there it was, a slender, metal tube hanging off his belt.
"No." Bilba said, already turning away. "Absolutely not."
She took a few steps, and came to a stop as the doors slammed shut in front of her. The cold feeling in her stomach solidified into a solid rock.
She steeled herself and turned around. "I don't do bounties on Jedi. If you want him that badly why not go after him yourself? You can clearly use the Force."
"I have better things to do," he answered. He pulled a credit chip from his pocket and tossed it to her. Bilba caught it. She looked down, and her eyes widened at the nearly obscene amount listed on it.
"As you can see," the man said, "I am more than willing to pay."
Bilba kept her eyes on the chip, chewing her lip absently. "What did he do?" she asked finally.
"He annoyed me," came the sharp answer. "Isn't that enough?"
"No." Bilba tossed the chip onto the desk. "I don't go after the innocent. For that amount of money I might have considered going after a corrupt Jedi, but not an innocent one. Find someone else."
He made a tsking sound as if she were a wayward child. "I had hoped to do this the easy way but, if you insist…" He picked up the chip and a nearby holopad. He then strode around the desk and up to her. Bilba tensed, her fingers flexing instinctively toward the empty holster strapped around her thigh and waist.
The man grabbed her hand and carefully wrapped her fingers around the chip and holopad. "You will kill him for me," he said casually, "and you will spread the word about how fair and generous an employer I am so that your contemporaries will seek work with me as well. Is that clear?"
"And if I don't?" Bilba growled, her anger rising.
He grinned, his teeth almost unnaturally white. "Or I may just be forced to collect on the bounty currently out on you, your Highness. I hear it's quite high."
Ice replaced the blood in her veins and she tensed. How the blast had he found out? "That's why you wanted me? You thought I'd be easiest to control?"
She didn't bother to try and deny anything. He clearly already knew, denying it would simply be a waste of breath.
"The name Pollux Destron carries weight," he said. "Having you on my payroll and spreading the word about my…generosity is useful to me."
And having blackmail on her was no doubt a bonus.
Bilba ground her teeth, her ire returning. "How did you find out?"
No one should have known, her father had made sure of that. If there was a leak somewhere she needed to plug it before it got worse.
"I have my methods," came the calm answer, "most of which are not available to the common masses." He leaned back against his desk, bracing his hands on the edges. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me…as long as you do as I command."
"That won't be long," Bilba snapped. "Considering your precious Jedi will kill me the second he senses me coming."
A slow, languid smile spread against her new employer's face. "Oh, but my dear," he said, pushing up, "did you think I would just send you out as you were?" He headed toward a side door, gesturing for her to follow him. "I have a few toys I think might help." He grabbed the doorknob of the door and pushed it open. "Let's see if you're as good as the original Pollux, shall we?"
Several weeks later, Bilba found her irritation had not abated.
She stalked down the street of the dust pit masquerading itself as a planet, mentally cursing the day she'd ever heard the name Kili Durin.
She would say that he was, without a doubt, the single most infuriating human she'd ever met if it weren't for the fact she hadn't met him yet.
She'd been tracking him for nearly two months and never seemed to get any closer.
At first she'd been relieved, her desire to approach, let alone attack, a Jedi quite low.
As the days and, now weeks and months, had passed her relief had slowly turned to annoyance.
Now she was just pissed.
The holopad she'd been given had listed Durin's last known location but it had been woefully outdated and had taken her days to track where he'd gone. By the time she'd reached that place he'd already moved onto the next, and the next after that.
She was halfway convinced he was doing it on purpose but she'd never gotten close enough to tip him off that she was even there.
Now, trapped on some Outer Rim planet she barely remembered the name of, she was angry, exhausted and felt like she was literally baking inside her armor. Her new employer, who'd refused to give his name because he was an ass, had initially given her armor crafted from beskar which she'd long dreamed of having as it was nearly indestructible and would resist just about anything, including lightsabers. She'd quickly found out, however, why her father had always been disinterested in it and had flat out refused to get her a set.
The armor was blasted heavy.
So heavy she'd been virtually unable to move wearing it and was pretty sure she'd lost a few inches in height through spinal compression.
She'd ended up going back to her normal black Mandalorian crusader armor, passed onto her after her father had died. Perhaps it wouldn't be complete protection against a lightsaber but at least she'd be able to move.
She'd been forced to remove the jetpack she normally wore in favor of another "gift" by the ass. That consisted of a heavy frame with a furry…lizard…thing hanging on it.
A ysalamiri, she'd been informed. A creature that reportedly would repel the Force and give her an actual fighting chance.
She looked like an idiot but if the thing did as advertised she'd take it.
A building came into view ahead of her, a squat, beige dome much like all the other buildings in the area. Her maps had identified it as a cantina and, given how awful the planet was as a whole, she was inclined to believe it did steady work.
Her stomach twisted slightly inside her and her steps slowed.
It wasn't just the fact she was about to face a Jedi, assuming he was even there and hadn't left already again, though that was more than enough to cause her disquiet.
It was the fact he was innocent and she was being ordered to kill him.
Guilt gnawed at her. Her father had raised her with a strong moral code, bounty hunter or not. He didn't go after the innocent, and neither did she.
She also, like her father, didn't take kill contracts. Everyone deserved a fair trial, her father had always said, and it wasn't her place to be their executioner. Her father would only take contracts for wanted criminals. He returned them alive, except for rare occasions where the target really didn't want to go back and he was forced to kill in self-defense.
Bilba had always prided herself on following in her father's footsteps. She used his name and his armor and his reputation, and she did her best to not tarnish any of it in the process.
And now look at her.
She huffed out a breath and clenched her hands open and closed before shaking them out, trying to rid herself of the nerves.
There was no way to rid herself of the guilt.
Finally she forced herself forward, her back straightening and her walk becoming the sure, fearless stride her father had taught her.
A burst of cool air hit her as she entered and she suppressed the desire to slump and sigh in relief. The interior was dark and her helmet adjusted for it.
She took another few steps in…and her stride faltered.
The room was empty.
Well, almost empty…except for her target…Kili Durin…who was lounging in a chair stationed in the center of the room, absently twirling his deactivated lightsaber in one hand.
"It's about time," he said, shortly. "I was starting to think I was going to have to come issue you a personal invitation."
Bilba stared at him blankly and then, without thinking, blurted. "You were doing it on purpose!"
He raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
"You knew I was following you!" Bilba accused, "and kept running off as soon as I got close."
His eyes narrowed. "You're wearing a ysalamiri. It's kind of hard not to notice the giant bubble of nothing!"
"Well how was I supposed to know that?" Bilba shot back. "I don't know what the damn things do to your stupid magic powers!"
"They aren't magic powers," Durin retorted. "It's the Force. It's a -"
"Heard it before, still sounds like magic," Bilba broke in. She drew the vibrosword that had been weighing her down on her right side. She normally went with blasters and other weapons for attacks but…but it just wasn't fair.
Jedi, normally, could repel blaster bolts with their mystical force whatsit but she'd taken that away from him and she could probably just overwhelm him with a blaster...or, better yet, have just shot him from a distance…but she just couldn't.
She hadn't had to kill anyone yet and Durin hadn't done anything aside from piss her off and that certainly wasn't deserving of death.
He raised an eyebrow. "Really? You want to fight me with that?"
Bilba shrugged and activated the weapon, going into a stance.
Durin shrugged in return, got to his feet and ignited his lightsaber, the green blade appearing with a snap that made her gut clench.
She'd thought him aggravating before she'd met him and even more aggravating now but she really didn't want to do this regardless of her personal feelings.
She lifted the weapon, holding it with both hands. There were some capable of wielding the blades one handed and her armor did augment her to a certain degree, but not that much. She took a deep breath, and lunged forward.
Durin had already gone into a stance of his own, giving her an expectant look that had turned oddly disappointed when she didn't react. As she came forward he grinned and deflected her blow easily, his blade impacting hers and pushing it back.
He frowned, suspicious. "Cortosis-weave?"
Bilba grinned, even though she knew he couldn't see it through her helmet. "Cortosis-weave. Good luck cutting through that with a lightsaber."
He scowled. "Well this is going to be slightly less fun than I thought."
"You could just give up," Bilba said blithely.
He snorted. "Oh, I'm still going to kick your ass. I just won't get the fun of slicing your weapon in half and seeing the look on your face."
"I'm wearing a helmet," Bilba retorted. "You wouldn't have been able to see my face anyway."
"True enough," he said with a sigh. "You are a massive killjoy, you know that?"
Bilba rolled her eyes and aimed another blow at him. He deflected that one as well and they shortly fell into a rhythm.
Durin fought like it was some sort of weird dance, coming at her with light jabs and cuts rather than trying to overwhelm her with sheer power or force, which he probably could have done had he wished.
Thankfully her father had trained her in various different forms of combat and she was able to match his form, driving him back at times and being driven back herself in turn.
He got a few lucky blows in, adding a few more scorch marks to her armor. Had she not gotten back fast enough the blows probably would have cut straight through.
He left himself open a few times as well, his footwork not completely correct, his swing just a little too wide.
Each time she started to go for the opening only to find herself drawing back or hesitating long enough for the moment to pass.
Every time it happened she cursed herself for it and swore that the next time she'd take the opening.
The fight dragged on. He pushed her all over the cantina, forcing her to jump on and over tables at times. At one point she found herself fighting him standing on the bar, making her have to pay attention to him and her feet at the same time lest she fall off the end of the counter and put herself entirely at his mercy.
It wasn't long before her chest was heaving and her lungs burned with the need for more air. Her arms were aching from having to hold the sword and her legs were rapidly tiring.
"Why is no one else coming in?" she asked at one point, disengaging from him to catch her breath. He allowed it, dropping back as well. He was sweating and his breathing was a bit fast but not as bad as hers, the bastard.
"They don't want to get involved with the two insane people I would imagine," he said. "I also may have mentioned a fight was coming to get everyone to leave. I'm sure they spread the word."
"And security isn't coming?" Bilba asked, mildly hopeful.
Durin looked amused. "It's Tatooine. The crime lords are the security and I doubt they care to intervene. You should have offered them some of the bounty if you wanted their help." He cocked his head slightly. "Speaking of which, how much is the bounty this time?"
"This time?" Bilba resisted the urge to bend over and put her hands on her knees. It was very, very tempting.
"I get a lot of bounties," Durin said, still sounding bizarrely cheerful. "My family tends to pick up enemies. Some go after the person they're mad at, others aren't as particular and figure any Durin will do."
"Family?" Bilba echoed. "I thought Jedi didn't have family."
"I was a special case," Durin said, idly spinning his lightsaber with his hand. "And it doesn't matter now anyway since I left the Order."
Bilba dragged her sword up again, testing if she could actually hold it up or not. "If you left then why are you still dressed like a Jedi and running around like an idiot?"
"I take exception to that last part," Durin said, "as for the first, I'm still a Jedi. I just don't belong to the Order anymore. There's no rule saying I couldn't keep the clothes and they're pretty comfortable." He nodded at her sword. "Ready to go again?"
Bilba sighed. "Yes."
He dropped back into a stance. "I'm disappointed you know."
"By what?" Bilba asked.
"You haven't recognized my fighting style." When she didn't respond he gave a theatrical sigh. "Form II? Makashi? The way of the Ysalamiri?"
Bilba frowned. "I've never heard of any of those forms."
"It's all the same form," he said. His eyes narrowed. "I have no idea why it has so many names. Regardless, I thought it fitting given the circumstances."
"You're an idiot," Bilba repeated. She transferred the vibroblade to one hand for a moment so she could clench and unclench her other hand, trying to get feeling back into her fingers.
Kili grinned suddenly. "You should really go ahead and give up now."
"Really?" Bilba asked. "And why is that?"
He grinned at her. "Probably because I killed your ysalamiri five minutes ago."
Bilba froze. "You what?"
She put her sword down and grabbed for the frame, unstrapping it and swinging it around in front of her. She knelt on one knee and found that, indeed, the creature was dead, the victim of a lightsaber swing she'd somehow missed. "You are such a bastard!"
He looked startled. "Are you actually angry at me for killing the damn thing?"
"It didn't do anything to you!" Bilba shouted, looking up at him.
He scowled and went down on one knee in front of her. "It was blocking me from using the Force."
"Oh, like that would kill you." Bilba groused.
"I think that was supposed to be the point of this whole endeavor, wasn't it?"
Bilba rolled her eyes, even though he couldn't see it through her helmet. "If you can't stop one bounty hunter without the use of your precious magic then you deserve to get killed!"
"It's not magic!" He pushed back and sat down, crossing his legs in front of him. His lightsaber snapped off with a hiss and he set the hilt on the ground next to him. "If you didn't want it to die you shouldn't have brought it."
"I didn't have much choice," Bilba muttered without thinking.
That caught his interest. "Really? And why is that?"
Bilba ignored him. She set the frame down and stood up. He stayed where he was, looking up at her. "Just get it over with," she said in resignation.
He raised an eyebrow. "Get what over with?"
"You know what," Bilba said, her annoyance returning. "Kill me already. You have the upper hand."
"Do I?" He pushed to his feet. "I seem to recall you having the upper hand, several times, and not taking it. Why is that?"
He'd been leaving the openings on purpose, Bilba realized, testing how she would react. "None of your business." She retorted. "Are you going to kill me or not?"
"Are you going to tell me who sent you and why you're so reluctant to kill me?" He asked.
"No," Bilba responded shortly.
He made a tsk sound. "Then it looks as though we're at an impasse." He reached into a pocket on his robe and tossed something to her. She caught it on reflex and frowned. It was a credit chip.
"Drinks on me," Durin said cheerfully. "You can buy the next round, when you catch up to me again."
"I'm not buying you a drink," Bilba sputtered but he was already turning on one heel, waving at her over his shoulder.
A second later he was out the door, leaving her staring at him in shock.
It was a good five minutes before she recovered enough to move. Then, with a growl of rage, she grabbed her vibroblade and the frame and stalked after him, shoving the credit chip in her pocket as she did.
She didn't care how much she was being paid to go after Durin.
It wasn't enough.
Nothing would ever be enough.