The Assassin's Bounty

Chapter One: What Goes Up

Amonkira, Lord of Hunters…

Thane watched as the ship, whose transponders declared her the Razor Crest, settled gently, if a bit unsteadily, to the canyon floor. Exactly where his contact had indicated. He had always been able to count on good information from the Bounty Hunters' Guild, and this time, they'd been especially eager to help.

Grant that my hands be steady…

It had taken him much longer than usual to even find his target this time. He had no name, no description, and no dossier to go on; only gender, age, and a tracking fob to point the way. It was like flying blind. Especially when the fob had led him to an armored Mandalorian who never removed his helmet. He'd had to take extra care to make certain he had the right man.

My aim be true…

But there was no one else here, in this remote little hideout several kilometers removed from civilization. And the tracking fob indicated beyond a doubt that his target was aboard that ship.

And my feet swift.

The boarding ramp lowered, and the Mandalorian disembarked, scanning his surroundings to make certain he was alone. Thane let out a long, steady breath as he scoped in on his target. The crosshairs settled on the polished gunmetal-gray helmet, his red targeting laser barely visible in the glare of the setting sun.

And should the worst come to pass…

He squeezed the trigger. The target dropped.

Grant me—

Thane stared in shock and dismay as the Mandalorian slowly sat up, holding his hand to his head as though he were dizzy. His helmet was scorched and blackened, confirming Thane's unerring aim, but barely even dented. Thane might as well have thrown a rock, for all the damage he'd done.

He swore under his breath. Beskar. His employer hadn't said anything about the target wearing beskar steel armor. This forced him to change his tactics considerably—even his sniper rifle wouldn't penetrate it except at point-blank range. A handgun would be all but useless against it.

It was to be hand-to-hand, then. He hadn't wanted to take on a fully armored Mandalorian at close range, but it seemed there was no other way to fulfill his contract. Well, then, so be it.

As the Mandalorian staggered unsteadily to his feet, Thane slung his rifle on his back and climbed silently down from his hiding place. He circled around to the other side of the ship, using the long shadows of early evening for cover and staying out of his quarry's line of sight. Planning his attack. Taking stock of the Mandalorian's armament: a pulse rifle, devastating at range and a sturdy melee weapon up close; a hand blaster, uncomplicated but effective; a vibroblade and a handful of timed charges.

If he was fast enough, he wouldn't have to worry about any of it. But if it came to a fight, he'd have to watch out for that knife. Staying inside the range of the guns would be easy, but a vibroblade like that could eviscerate him before he even felt the cut.

Slowly, silently, he slid his own vibroblade from its sheath. The Mandalorian's armor had a wide gap between helmet and cuirass, leaving his neck relatively unprotected. Thane crept forward, blade in hand, ready to—

A clatter and a squeak from inside the ship. The Mandalorian started, turned, and held up a hand to hold someone back. "No," he said sharply. "Stay there!"

Thane's jaw clenched. A witness would complicate matters.

He had to draw the Mandalorian away from the open ramp. Focusing on a spot far enough to the left to be out of view of whoever was inside, Thane reached out with his limited command of the Force and started a handful of rocks tumbling down the slope.

As he'd hoped, the sound and motion caught his target's attention. "Stay there, understand?" the Mandalorian repeated, and started slowly toward the disturbance.

Thane sheathed his blade and followed, silent as a shadow. And when he was certain the person remaining on the ship couldn't see them, he struck.

He sprang forward to close the distance between them. The Mandalorian tried to turn around at the noise. Thane checked his shoulder, collapsed his knee with a kick, and seized the front and back of his helmet.

But before he could snap the Mandalorian's neck, an armored elbow caught him in the stomach, winding him and driving him back a step. The Mandalorian spun around, taking advantage of the space to draw his blaster. Thane recovered just in time to dodge his first shot. The second grazed his shoulder. Before the Mandalorian could fire again, Thane used the Force to wrench the weapon from his hand.

He pressed his attack, aiming a flurry of blows at the weak spots in the armor. Keeping his opponent off-balance. Searching for his opening.

The Mandalorian fought back capably, blocking some hits and landing a few of his own. But he was giving ground, slowly but surely. When he hit the canyon wall, he'd be finished.

Clearly, he knew it, too. The Mandalorian fought harder with every step, and finally landed a powerful uppercut under Thane's chin. The impact of the armored gauntlet snapped his head back so hard he saw stars, and he fell. But he retained enough presence of mind to pull the Mandalorian down with him, flipping him over his head and using their combined momentum to land on top. Pinning the Mandalorian to the ground with a knee on his chest, Thane drew his vibroblade again and prepared to cut his target's throat.

"Wouldn't do that if I were you, assassin," the Mandalorian said calmly.

Thane froze, blinked, and looked down. The Mandalorian had gotten hold of Thane's blaster in the scuffle, and now pressed the muzzle into his stomach.

"Well, then, it would seem we have reached an impasse," Thane replied.

"I don't think so." The Mandalorian's finger rested casually on the blaster's trigger. "Way I see it, you got two options. Lay one finger on the kid, and I blast you into oblivion. Or leave him alone, and I just bring you in for the bounty. The Hutts have a pretty impressive price on your head—Thane Krios."

Thane narrowed his eyes. "Kid?" he demanded. "My contract is for you, Mandalorian, not a child."

"You sure about that?"

At that moment, Thane's tracking fob began to beep insistently, rising in pitch, as it should have been doing throughout the fight if the Mandalorian was indeed his target. He looked to the side—and was startled to find an infant standing there, reaching his tiny arms toward the Mandalorian and gurgling worriedly.

All at once, the pieces fell into place. The child was of the same mysterious species as the famed Jedi Master Yoda: an extraordinarily long-lived people, said to have a lifespan of a thousand years or more.

("Your target is a male, fifty years of age. That is all the information I have to give you." My employer produces a tracking fob, like those used by the Guild of bounty hunters. "This will lead you to him.")

Slowly, Thane sheathed his blade and stood, backing away from the child and deliberately keeping his hands where the Mandalorian could see them. "Had I known the target was a child, I would not have taken the contract," he said. "I will not harm him."

The Mandalorian climbed to his feet with a grunt, keeping the blaster trained on Thane. "I know your reputation, Krios. You never give up on a contract. Ever."

"You do not know me as well as you think, if you believe I would kill an innocent child," Thane countered.

The Mandalorian seemed to consider that for a moment. "Why should I believe you?" he said finally.

Thane spread his hands. "I'm afraid all I have to offer is my word of honor."

"Honor? From the guy who jumped me from behind?" the Mandalorian snorted. He thumbed the setting on the blaster. "I don't think so."

He fired.

The Mandalorian let out a sigh of relief as Krios fell. Why an assassin even had a stun setting on his blaster was a mystery, but he wasn't about to question it. He'd never hunted a Drell before, though, and didn't know how long it would take him to wake up. Not eager to go another round—he'd managed to get in a lucky shot and still only managed to fight him to a draw—he cuffed Krios's hands behind his back, just to be safe.

He couldn't believe his luck. The bounty the Hutts were offering would be enough to repair the Razor Crest to new condition three times over. That Krios had evaded capture for eight years with that kind of price on his head spoke volumes about his skills in stealth and caution—and the number of dead bounty hunters he'd left in his wake were proof of his martial prowess.

If circumstances had been different, he might have made a good Mandalorian.

But it was no use speculating about that, of course. It was time to get him back to the Razor Crest and into carbon freeze.

The Mandalorian bent, slipped his hands under Krios's arms, and tried to lift him—and nearly fell on his ass. Damn, he was heavier than he looked. He thought about going back to the ship and getting the repulsor sled, but when he looked up, the kid was staring at him. He had that look on his little face, doing that thing with his ears, tht the Mandalorian could swear was his version of laughter.

"You think this is funny, huh? I'd like to see you carry him."

He paused as he flashed back to the Mudhorn, floating a meter off the ground. Kid probably could carry him.

Well, he definitely wasn't getting the sled now. It was the principle of the thing.

Besides, now that he knew what to expect, it wasn't really that hard. A little bit of a workout, maybe, but nothing he couldn't handle.

The child toddled slowly after them, his little brow furrowed with what looked like worry. The Mandalorian snorted softly in amusement. Poor innocent kid was actually concerned about the assassin who'd come to kill him. It might have been cute if it wasn't so (terrifying) dangerous.

By the time he'd dragged Krios up the ramp and back into the cargo hold, the Mandalorian had definitely broken a sweat, and was decidedly relieved to set down his burden. He propped the unconscious Drell against the bulkhead and set about activating the carbon freeze chamber.

Ever curious. The child poked at Krios's face, as if trying to wake him. The Mandalorian scooped him up before he could climb into Krios's lap. "No," he said firmly. "Prisoner. Bounty. Stay away. Understand?" He set the child downon the other side of the hold. "Stay here."

The child cooed at him, and he turned back to the carbon freeze chamber. Frowning, he punched in the activation code again. The system whirred, whined, clicked, and finally died with a hiss and a gout of foul-smelling carbonite vapor. The Mandalorian backed away, coughing and cursing. Of course. Of course the damn carbon freeze was broken, just when he'd spent his last credits on engine parts. Just when he needed a good, big bounty to get back on his feet again.

Just when he'd picked up one of the galaxy's most dangerous assassins.

He couldn't believe his luck.

The Mandalorian tore open a panel and managed to cut off the gas flow before the air in the hold became toxic. He should probably get the kid out of here until it cleared completely, though. Then he'd figure out another way to secure Krios for the trip.

The easiest way would be to keep stunning him, but he dismissed that idea immediately. The Hutts didn't take kindly to brain-damaged prisoners. They weren't as interesting to—

Well, it wasn't a bounty hunter's business what happened to the package after delivery, now, was it?

The irony was not lost on him.

"Don't give me that look," he muttered to the child. "Come on, let's get you outta here before he wakes up."