Chapter 6
Jango fired off another blast.
He reflected on how they had gotten into this position (a standoff between Djas, himself and Zam) for future reference, and for use in similar situations that undoubtedly would arise in his career. He knew, from the moment he had fallen down between the rows of production belts, that something was wrong. It was a feeling along the back of his armored spine that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Not from fear, but from superior apprehension, slight understanding of his situation. However, he it was not his own position that he should have been aware of; it was his opponent's, and his partner's.
His opponent had taken up a position behind a scrap crate, which had broken open (undoubtedly from its fall from above) and spilled its solid contents across the already dirty floor. His location put him in a position that allowed fire to rain across the majority of the lower level. Jango still remembered the first blaster bolt that had flown across the room, and his surprise at it's path spinning not towards him, but towards Zam. He still remembered his jumping to his left, into the path of the bolt. And he still remembered his even greater surprise as Zam had, instead of taking cover behind his airborne body, pushing it further along its path, till he was yet again clear of blaster fire. He had landed behind one base of a pillar, dazed but relatively unhurt.
He remembered the blaster bolt flying not even 5 feet from his face, spiraling into his changeling partner's right shoulder. And how the body part had absorbed the blow, rocketing the woman back and into shadows, illuminated only by similar blaster bolts flying over her motionless body, crashing into the far wall.
Jango fired the second.
Djas loosed a hum of firepower.
Jango fired the next round,
And here they found themselves.
Realizing their exchange was getting nowhere quickly, Jango unclipped a confined thermal detonator from his belt. It sailed with little effort over the barrier-like crate. As soon as it went in, Djas Phur came out.
As soon as that bald, shiny head came into range, it connected with the sole of Jango's boot. The black creature's face screwed up in a grimace of pain as his skull was pushed down into his shoulder blades. The man landed on his chest, his face at the tip of Jango's left foot; likewise, the two met in close, yet very unaffectionate, quarters.
Djas was lifted into the air, flailing him arms wildly in an attempt to ward off his attacker. The motions did no good, however, because once the man returned to solid ground he found a gloved fist in his face.
Then he collapsed to the ground: with just a little help.
Jango rushed back to where Zam was lying. Gently, he picked up the warrior, cradling her head in his hand.
She stirred, and her eyes opened; surprisingly, in them was not fear, nor pain, but easy calm. She tried to speak, but her words became muddled as she coughed up blood.
Jango said nothing, but gently wiped away a trickle of blood running down the side of her mouth, letting one finger stop over her mouth in a means to silence her.
But Zam was persistent and, pushing away Jango's finger in protest, spluttered up a few words.
"This isn't... the," she started quietly, taking a breath. "...End. It can't be... and it never will till you retrieve what we came here for. The bounty, Jango. Do your job."
Jango nodded a silent "no" with his head. "I'm staying here, Zam. Or I'll get you to safety. It—"
"No!" She screamed, her eyes widening, her hands clawing at Jango's sleeves, drawing her face close to his. "Do your job! Hunt the merchandise!"
Jango was caught off guard by the movement. He contemplated denying the command, but thought against it; Zam, severely hurt, was probably in a state of shock, and any actions as to discourage her further would surely damage her.
"Zam," his raspy voice echoed from the helmet, "you won't last more than a few hours in my absence."
Zam laughed weakly. "That's... more than enough time for the greatest bounty hunter in the galaxy to finish the hunt."
She allowed no protests.
He decided to go with his partner's blunt plan of action.
"Heh... kinn'a like dejá vu, eh Jango?" She said with a smirk, then fell limp in his arms.
Jango's fingers found her pulse: still strong.
He instantly whirled on Djas; but in looking at where the man had lain only 30 seconds ago he found only an empty spot, laced with trickles of oil and blood, but absence of his presence.
He quivered with a touch of silent fury, and rushed from Zam's side, leaving the girl in a calm demeanor, a state of naive bliss.
Jango strode from the room and into a compact area of sorts. Lit in vibrant hues of red and orange and reflected off of rusted metal pipes, it turned almost warm colors into a harsh environment, enhancing the sharp edge of exposed pipes in the ceiling and walls.
The dazzling light tricks prompted him to stop a moment and regard which way to turn. He was near certain of which direction to take, and a footstep on his way, when large, scaly claws grabbed him from behind around his neck.
Jango gargled, and immediately reached for his throat, tearing at the restraints. Jango bent forward at the waist, throwing his attacker's weight onto his back; but no matter how much Fett tried to flip the aggressor over his head and off his back, the choking continued relentlessly.
"Jango Fett..." he heard a hoarse voice whisper in his helmet's audio input.
"What do you want, Craddosk?" Jango inquired sharply, none of the pain from his crushing throat showing through in his words.
Craddosk increased his grip. "You know exactly what I want."
Jango shook his head left and right slowly. "Nothing doing. I need that income."
Craddosk let out an amused snort. "For what? Everyone knows you're the wealthiest hunter in the Galaxy."
Jango let a choking gasp. "I need the money for that new luxury hot rod speeder."
Craddosk let out a roar of laughter. "Oh, that's priceless! I didn't know you had such a strong sense of humor!"
Inside the helmet, Jango's eyes narrowed. "Who said I was joking?" He barked.
Craddosk stopped laughing.
Jango took the aversion of Craddosk's focus to the extreme. Quickly, the Mandalorian warrior looped one foot around the lizard creature's ankle, bringing his snout down on the shoulder plate of Jango's armor. A resonating "Crack!" echoed throughout the room, followed by the thump of Craddosk crashing to the floor.
Jango spun on his heel and collapsed his entwined fists upon his enemy's back. The otherwise crushing hit merely bounced off of the scaly back, and Craddosk retaliated with a diagonal swipe from his huge, clawed hand. The blow opened three deep, nasty scratches along the breastplate of the Mandalorian armor. Jango stumbled back from the blow, pressing one hand against his belly. Craddosk roared in anger, and leapt upon Jango's shoulders, falling blows upon his shoulders and helmet. Jango slid, and stopped fighting back.
But Craddosk did not.
Again and again the crushing fits smashed against Jango, breaking the visor in his helmet, tearing pieces of the chest armor apart, and leaving various dents in a large and random pattern across the length of his body.
Jango did not move again.
As soon as Craddosk saw his opponent defeated and lifeless beneath him, he shored up the beating. He rose, standing above his opponent in an infinitely superior pose. His from cast a menacing, jagged shadow across Jango. He snarled in an animal-like mimic of laughter, and prepared to dive in and devour his kill.
His gruesome thoughts would have become a reality had it not been for Craddosk's shadow erasing—suddenly—from the wall, its owner along with it.
Craddosk crashed headfirst into a wall drenched in dry shadows. His head spun as he did so as well, coming about-face to see only Zam standing where he had stood, a heavy, rusted pipe clutched in her left hand.
"You'll have to do better than that!" Roared Craddosk, drawing a blaster from his belt. He maniacally laughed as he pulled the trigger, but the wild blaster fire didn't even come close to hitting the young woman. She easily sidestepped anything that came even close to searing her skin.
Craddosk emerged from the shadows, discarding the over-heated weapon as he did so. With snake-like agility, he was upon Zam, and, in a motion too fast to track snatched away the makeshift weapon.
Raising the bar as if it were a hammer, he prepared to bring it down on the wounded hunter's head.
A foot lashed out of the shadows.
It contacted with Craddosk's leg.
Craddosk crashed to the floor.
At that moment, Zam collapsed, falling upon Jango's chest gently.
The hunter sat up, laying his partner gently on the floor. Removed of the weight, he glanced over his wounds with a fighter's eye. An offset white object lodged in his armor caught his attention. Curious, he yanked it out with his thumb and forefinger.
It was Craddosk's tooth.
Jango unfastened one of the leather pockets on his belt, and slipped it inside. Perhaps it might serve its further purpose as a trophy.
Jango feet pounded steadily on the cold grating beneath him. Like a heartbeat at work, it rose faster, and faster, until it was a barely distinguishable beat. The thumping fell to a steady "crunch crunch" as his boots fell to hitting the sand and rocks outside the complex.
If Jango had looked up at that moment he would have seen a brilliant navy dark sky dotted and striped with stars and nebulas. He would have seen the reflection of a million asteroids like small moons, and the travel of prison transports to neighboring inhabited complexes, burning brightly as they traversed through the thick atmospheres.
But he kept his head down; and perhaps for the better, because if he had not he would not have seen the 12 droids lined up in front of him, weapons drawn, and waiting to kill something.
Jango had drawn and fired twice before they even got a bead on him. The foremost robot was taken out first, and one on its left flank as well; the others opened heavy fire immediately with reapeating blasters, though all firepower traced a path under the feet of Jango's agile somersault.
It was a myth that the armor somehow slowed him down or restricted him of movement. This was now proved in a rhythm of power and speed unequaled by any of his race or stature. With his right hand Jango launched a hook to a robots torso. With the left he let go of a string of firepower, blowing to and through three of them on the left flank. The same left hand came back and grabbed the top of the stumbling robots head, which was then twisted completely backwards and popped off with ease.
In the time it took the decapitated robot to fall, Jango was already in the aiming reticules of 4 more. Dropping stealthily, the hunter performed a complete 360 counter-clockwise swipe with his leg, at 2, 5, 7, and 11 o'clock knocking each robot off its footing and to the ground. Jango popped the clip to a grenade, dropped it between his legs, and leapt forwards, rolling along the ground a good distance to put himself away from the implosive weapon.
The weapon detonated and the floored robots' circuitry was fried to a smoking crisp, with various pieces of their armor spiraling away and lodging themselves in the ground, fellow troops, and various rocks nearby. There was a neat three left after the explosion—on extra destroyed from debris of the explosion—and they were disposed of fairly quick. Jango had brought his gun up to meet its targets, and pulled the trigger, when the firearm inconveniently sputtered and died. Tossing it away without second thought, Jango reached for his second gun. Startled for only a second, he saw it was not in its holster, but in the hands of his enemy; who had grabbed the gun when it had been lost as Jango had rolled to safety.
Jango set his feet shoulder-length apart and squeezed his right hand into an odd fist. From the wrist gauntlet sprung a jagged knife, dented and defiled from years of use. The deformed shape meant nothing to the hunter as of the moment, however, and he launched himself forearm first into the nearest droid. The shining blade sunk deep into its vital circuits, and hissing sounds could be heard as it melted from within. Jango pulled his arm into an arc resembling something of an uppercut, cutting the robot in half from the belly through its head. Pieces of molten metal flew into the air, and before they could hit the ground Jango had spiraled and cut the next droid from shoulder to groin. The guard landed on the ground in half, sparking and smoking.
The last Jango turned upon was a bit different. Instead of being near weaponless and thin-framed, this one seemed to be armored, and equipped with a rocket launcher on its "bicep." At that moment it fired.
Jango leapt into the air and activated his jetpack. At top speed he flew upwards for about 10 seconds, the slim rocket hitting his brilliantly hot exhaust and exploding almost while within the thin trail.
The heavily equipped droid set to re-arming its gun, and Jango flew towards it. Twisting his forearm, he activated the flame-thrower on his left gauntlet. He came down a few feet from the robot's face; flames blew from his forearm, and the guard's head melted in upon itself. It didn't explode, it didn't steam, it merely fell and was no more.
Jango had a moments time of rest, but only a moment, for at that moment he did take the time to look up at the night sky.
And laid eyes upon a closer object than the distant prisoner transports. He laid eyes upon Djas Phur's ship, leaving at top speed.
20 minutes ago…
Phur ran aboard his ship via the small boarding ramp beneath the hull, and breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps he had escaped from the maze that was that hell-hole of a prison complex after all. Perhaps he could leave behind that Jango Fett, his accomplices, and his enemies for ever.
Phur slid into the single pilot seat in the nose, hit a few buttons, and pushed a few levers. The view screen came alive along the peripheral vision with illuminated radars and rear monitors. The engines roared to life behind him, and he triggered the anit-grav repulsorlifts; his ship left the ground a few feet, cruising forward slightly.
More power… he thought frantically. More power! The sooner I leave this planet the better...
His hands danced across the pitch controls, and the ship jumped to life. Within seconds he was safely suspended a half-mile into the air.
Wiping some of the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand, he spun in the chair to face away from the sweet sight of space in the view port. He queued a soft melody of music with touch to a pressure-sensitive panel and leaned back in the chair to relax.
He would have gone through with the plan, too, had his hunter reflexes not kicked in at that exact moment. He sensed the presence of another on board. Rising from his seat, he stealthily tracked the location. There, below and to the right of him, in the weapon storage shafts.
Djas triggered the hidden access lever with his foot, then kicked the floor-mounted door in. He grabbed at the darkness, and came up with Dexter Jettster's collar; he raised the plump alien in front of his face as if the creature weighed nothing at all, growling.
"Just what in the blazes do you think you're doing?" He growled, his grip tightening on the collar and into the soft flesh of the nape of Dexter's neck beneath it.
Dexter made a choking noise and his eyes rolled to the ceiling. His mauve-colored face turned an odd blue, and he began gasping and wheezing.
Not as if Djas Phur cared in the least, however; he felt no guilt upon killing in cold blood. Once the hunter put two and two together, however, and realized that this one he was and choking was the same in the hologram picture's he had seen, all that changed. Phur's eyes widened and he released the bounty, letting him fall back into the weapon storage shaft from whence he came.
Djas hit the emergency lock for all compartments and leapt back towards his seat. Bringing up his communications panel, he tapped a discrete coffee shop in the underworld of Courascant; and, more directly, the man who had put out the bounty for Dexter's head, Flar Y'yas.
A moment of crackling static filled the cockpit, but it was abruptly followed by the visage of Flar's bust.
Considering the life-and-death circumstances Djas, the other bounty hunters, the bounty himself, and all others concerned had faced this past day, one would have expected Mr. Y'yas to be in a discreetly brooding, solemn mood; but he was instead in a disturbingly humorous mood. His cackling laughter roared through the room, and behind him was heard the clanking of mugs and high pitch of others laughing ever louder as Djas listened.
"Djas, my boy!" He said merrily, lifting his glass in a playful toast and emptying it before continuing. "How goes the hunt?"
Djas cast a sideways glance to the weapons compartment. "It goes quite well, Mr. Y'yas," he said smugly. "He is yours when you want him."
Y'yas's brow almost furrowed. "And your former boss?"
Djas crossed his arms over his chest. "He is no longer a concern to me."
Y'yas looked pleased. "Very well, then. Bring him in as soon as possible. You can find the drop point at—"
Y'yas was cut off abruptly, and his image disappeared, when the floor turned red beneath Djas' feet.
Now
Slave I was an inanimate object, but for all its lifelessness the character of it was stunning. Jango's personal ship had taken on set after set of burn marks, potshots, and other assemblies that left its hull almost as much as if not more scarred than its owner.
It's beaten composure lied about its speed and agility, which was now proved as it flew to space as if moth to flame, and its unwitting fib more often than not played Jango's competition for a fool. One shame was, both of their reputation informed most of those running from the hunters, so most knew to know the ship's abilities.
Jango's mind was clouded with rage as he pursued Djas through the dusky sky. Morning light was breaking through the navy sky, casting soft orange and pink rays across select rocks. Most of the ground still lay in shadow, a benefit to both hunters; no other prison compounds were awake yet, no others were aware of the scourge that had befell this one compound, and the hunters didn't have to worry about reinforcements from the other side.
Jango's thumb flipped open a safeguard flap from the proton torpedo release switch, and his thumb hovered over the button.
Then something happened. Something very curious happened. By itself, the ship lurched forward, and spun wildly out of control. Jango tilted his head inquiringly, baffled as to the cause.
Then, it all ended.
Jango's onboard comlink beeped demandingly, and the hunter accepted the incoming transmission; Djas digitized face appeared.
"Jango Fett…" Djas said in words drenched with malice and frustration as the camera swiveled outward to reveal an image of Djas holding Jettster by the collar, and gun pointed at the burly alien's head. "As you can see," Djas growled, "I have the prime target here, right here, in my custody."
Djas paused, waiting for Jango's reaction; he got nothing, so continued.
"I also believe that the bounty on the prime target is worth a very large sum; a very, very large sum you very much want. Isn't that right?"
Jango inclined his head.
"Good. At this point you have two choices: you can squeeze the trigger, blow my ship to pieces, and kill us both, avenging your lover…"
Jango winced.
"…or," Djas chuckled. "You can give me your ship and your weapons, and allow me to blast away from this planet, leaving you stranded."
Jango was silent for only a moment. "I exchange these things for the bounty?"
Djas nodded. "That is correct."
Jango held up a hand in agreement. "Then it is a deal."
Jango had his ship docked to Djas' within 5 minutes, and Slave I's engines were left running for Djas convenience. A last minute order had been for Jango to remove all of his firearms and any other weapon-like accessories, including his jetpack, and discard them in Slave I's cargo hold.
In the cabin of Djas ship, the two hunter's stood face-to-face, each trying to stare the other down.
And Jango, it seemed, was winning.
Of course, this pointless show of strength was interrupted by Dexter Jettster, who was by this time scared beyond console, and nearly delirious within his racing mind.
The only thing that reached Djas' ears was fragments and half-completed sentences, most of which were pleads for release.
"Perhaps I could…." Dexter started, then switched thoughts. "No, I'll pay you triple, perhaps! Jango Fett, you're a good businessman! Surely you'll listen to reason? All the money in the world will… oh, god, no…no one's listening…'
Djas nodded his agreement with a smirk. Indeed, my bloated friend. He chuckled mentally. I'm too busy being proud of myself over getting the upper-hand on both of you.
"That's it, Jango…" Djas growled. "Just stand right over by the control seat."
Jango took a few brisk steps and stood by the large, plush chair. At Phur's command of "sit", Jango sat; but he never took his eyes off of Djas.
"You're making a mistake," Jango announced as Djas headed for the access tube leading back to Slave I.
Djas glared at Jango. "No mind games," he spat, and walked, companionless into the access tube.
Once inside Slave I, Djas Phur immediately took a seat at the control deck in the aft of the ship. Glancing over the controls for a moment to familiarize himself with them, he then keyed the rear thrusters with his forefinger. He grinned amusingly at the sudden rush of energy consuming the ship; but sooner than the ship was alive, it was dead again.
Djas frowned in concern; had he pushed the wrong button? Cautiously, he tried a few others keys.
Nothing.
Djas sneered in discontent, and pounded on more keys.
Still: nothing.
Djas whirled on the transfer tube, his anger such a blur that he would not hesitate to engage in a fist-fight, if necessary, with Fett.
Djas was near running for the door when, suddenly, a ship flying past Slave I's wide view port caught his immediate attention. Upon further glance Djas also realized it was his own ship flying by.
Djas' eyes grew large with hatred and fear; he was in great danger, trapped in a locked-down ship while his enemy flew freely about in a lethally equipped one. Wasting no time, Djas pulled the hand-held comlink from his belt and barked into it, "Fett! We had a deal!"
"That much is true," Jango's voice crackled back. "But the terms said nothing of how our ship's conditions should be in."
"You filthy liar!" Djas screamed.
"I am no liar," Jango rasped electronically. "I am a bounty hunter.
"You have two choices," he continued. "You may give me back my ship, allow me to keep the bounty, and all your weapons; or, I can use the full-force of your exceptional weaponry and blast you into space dust."
"Ha!" spat Djas. "You'd never completely destroy your precious ship, Jango! The whole galaxy knows that!"
"Sometimes the galaxy is stupid." Despite the raspy helmet tone and poor comlink pick-up, Djas still thought it sounded as if Jango was chuckling.
Jango never laughed.
Ever.
"All right," succumbed Djas, holding up his hands. "You win. Take back your ship."
Then, maybe by chance but we'll never know, Djas eye caught the faint glimmer of a strange green light mounted underneath the dashboard-like base for all the weaponry switches. Groping with a hand, Djas pried it loose with his thumb and forefinger.
As soon as it was removed, all buttons lit up in an eerie red glow. Floor-mounted glowrods cast a pink sheen throughout the cabin. Most amazing of all, the engines hummed to life.
"Take back your ship…" Djas repeated more softly. "But not without a fight."
Taking a seat, Djas eased the thruster shift slowly forwards with his left hand, and the ship pulled forward with a lurch. Smiling to himself, he grasped the control yoke and pulled it sharply starboard, bringing Jango into view.
Djas tried to get a pinpoint on him, and found it easy enough; Slave I's targeting system was top of the line, and did most of the work for him. But Djas took the pleasure of manually pulling the trigger himself, laughing as twin firepower broke from the forward mounted guns.
Jango lived up to his reputation all too well, however, and pulled his ship into a tight barrel-roll, at the same time rotating his ship so that he came face-to-face with Djas; then Jango pulled the trigger.
Djas met the force head-on, and it jostled his seat. Fortunately, he kept his hands on the controls, and when his head stopped spinning armed the concussion missiles.
But before he could launch them, Jango had already disappeared over Djas' head. Growling, Phur brought the ship into a Y-turn.
But Jango seemed to be hiding.
"Where did you go, Fett?" he taunted to no one in particular. But all too soon he got his answer as a stream of blaster-fire from above his head pounded Slave I's shields to pieces; this battle had just begun and they were already down to 60% efficiency.
But the swooping maneuver had brought Jango neatly within targeting range. This time, Djas wasted not time in launching the concussion missiles, and they slammed into Jango with enough force to disable his engines.
And it did just that. The ship's engines sputtered and died, and it lay motionless, suspended in space.
Djas waited, every weapon beamed to the hull of Jango's ship.
The comlink blinked with an incoming message, and Djas accepted it.
"What do you want now, Fett?" he snapped.
The returning transmission was scattered with static. "I…don't… suppose you want to negotiate…the terms again?"
Djas growled "no," and let loose with every firearm he had aboard the vessel.
Jango's ship blew into a million pieces from a cloud of brilliant orange and red. Djas sighed in relief as the smoke curled away into space, taking the ashes of the once great Jango Fett with it.
Still drugged from the rush of combat, Djas was barely aware of what he had accomplished. He absently rose and started for the hull of Slave I. "Now if only I could radio Y'yas for the pickup point—"
The rest of Djas' sentence disappeared in a pained grunt as a pair of combat boots drove into his face. Djas collapsed immediately, and would have lost consciousness, had it not been for the disbelief that surged through his veins.
There in front of him stood Jango, standing tall, not even worn save from battle scars won in the prison complex far below them now.
"How…?" uttered Djas.
Jango bent over and grabbed the shiny, bald-headed creature by his throat. "Because I am smarter than you," he coughed, turning to throw the alien into an open escape pod. Djas crashed against the far wall, and the safety door slid shut.
Coolly, Jango hit the release button, and the pod scraped away from Slave I, spiraling down towards a passing moon of Kessell.
Dexter Jettster said from behind him, "you have incredible skill."
Jango pulled off his helmet, careful to keep his back to Dexter. "No," he coughed through a mouthful of blood. "I have incredible fate."