Chapter Two: The Establishing and The First Guild Job:
Recap:
That was the rule: either bring in your first bounty as your fee or pay ten thousand credits. The Mandalorian had just handed over a pouch with enough credits to get in the Guild five times over. His choked gasp was followed with – what almost sounded like a drawling monotone from the Mandalorian – "I would like a job within the next two standard days. If there is a partner, have them meet here beside you. This is my comm information for my ship." With that he handed Karga a data-chip and rose. Taking up the rifle, the Mandalorian rose from the booth and started to walk towards the door. Karga blinked in surprise. The Mando was very abrupt. And very anti-social. He barely had time to say "Be seeing you," before the hunter had exited the Cantina.
POV ~ Still Greef Karga
The Mando had left the data-pad on the table. He carefully picked it up, after tying the credit pouch up and putting it into his coat pocket with equal care. The contract was still on the screen, but he now saw that there were additional folders on it. One of them was blinking a faint red. He chose that folder and it opened to reveal a message:
Forgive the abrupt departure, but I have no wish to linger. Since this message will only become available for reading when the contract is accepted, I know I have become part of the Guild in a fashion. You are no doubt wondering about the extra credits for the entrance fee. Ten-thousand of those credits are for the entrance fee of course. The other forty-thousand is for most of the debt that I know my fellow hunters have incurred and are loaning from the Guild itself.
Greef couldn't believe his eyes. 'Just who the hell was this Ghost? What was going on under that bucket?' He saw that there was more to the message and continued to read. So, in shock was he, that Karga didn't realize most of the cantina was still staring at him.
Everyone who is anyone in the bounty hunting business knows that it is slow right now. It doesn't help that there are Amateurs making mistakes costing repeat customers and bounties. Or that some hunters are not wanting to take certain jobs because they are afraid of the quarry or the conditions leading to said captured quarry. I do not mind getting small bounties, but my conditions in the contract you have signed are clad in Beskar. Break it knowingly, and I will break the Guild, only ending with you so you could see what happens when someone breaks a contract with me. You should tell the other hunters about the contract. They will take it better from you than me.
He gulped as he continued to read. Karga was glad to see the word 'knowingly' written in. He didn't want to get the blame for someone else's stupidity. It was here, Karga glanced out of the corner of his eye at the rest of the room to read it. The tension storm was coming closer. He would have to say something to the room at large to get the storm to move off somewhere else, to be someone else's problem. "What are you all looking at? Either say something one at a time or keep quiet. And will someone get rid of this mess," Greef gestured to the seven corpses, "they are beginning to smell worse."
Karga admitted in his own mind that he could have phrased it better, but seeing how seven people died not six feet away from him, the Mandalorian known as the Ghost had come into his cantina and brought a contract for signing rather than swearing the oath of the Guild, and then tossed a small fortune into his lap; he felt he should be excused from being a little too blunt. The tension exploded into a cacophony of noise. The only one who was even remotely calm was the bartender who looked to be gesturing at the cleaning droid at the far counter.
Finally, a Twi'lek shoved over to his seat, spun around and shrieked, "Shut the Kriffing Hell UP!" while brandishing a throwing knife. A hush fell over the cantina, the most sound coming from the droid that was cleaning up the corpses. The Twi'lek gave them a moment, nodded and spun to face him. "Now," she started, "I have some questions that I would like answered. First and foremost," she pointed at the door, "who the kriff was that?"
Karga shook his head and said, loudly enough for the entire cantina to hear, "Gather round children," he smirked as he heard some swearing grumbles from some of the more prideful hunters, "I have a story to tell you." The entire cantina, even the barman, came in close enough to hear him without him having to strain his voice. The Twi'lek, who had asked the question, sat down in his booth. He shrugged and smiled at her indulgently like a parent with spoiled kid. She fidgeted with impatience.
"Now," he started as everyone listened, "most here know – or at least should know – the legends or even rumors of Mandalorians. A race of warriors that were made for war and hunting. They were mostly killed off by the Empire, now they are scattered and maybe dying out completely. Still doesn't change the fact, they are not a people to mess with. That hunter that came and left is a Mandalorian." He paused as he heard some of the rookies whisper to their closet companion, only to be silenced by the more experienced counterparts. The more experienced knew that this was just a beginning and that information was more precious than credits. "That one though," he slightly shuddered here; remembering the unofficial tales he had heard from his old spy network, "that particular Mandalorian is known in certain New Republic circles as the Ghost."
As soon as he had said the word 'Ghost', almost all the hunters seem to flinch in surprise. He didn't blame them. After all, that Mando had a terrifying reputation. Even when just about everyone hated the bounty hunter that went by 'Ghost', no one could say that they weren't very good; maybe the best in the galaxy. When on a hunt, it was said that you would not see him go and you damn sure would never see him coming. Unless, he wanted you to. He could get into any place, get to any person; it was said.
Karga continued, knowing that the contract should be made common knowledge like the Ghost had requested in that last note. "Mando there, was a freelancer who worked in every part of this galaxy. It is even rumored that he worked with the Rebellion to help overthrow the Empire. Most of the jobs I have heard being taken in by him were big ones. True, he would take small krill ones too, but the big bounties are what got my attention." He turned and faced the Twi'lek as understanding dawned on their faces. "Part of the reason that the pucks have been so slow from the New Republic is because they would give them to him. With him now as part of the Guild – as loosely as possible – they will be sending the pucks in our direction. That is part of his contract," he gestured at the data-pad. The Twi'lek snatched it up and started to read it both the message and the contract. There was a pause as he waited for her to be finished.
She looked up after a few minutes. Her expression was a mix of intrigue, shock and a kind of hunger. For what, Karga didn't want to know. "He is very generous, the Ghost is," she said. He nodded and explained to the group at large, "He handed over forty-thousand credits extra to pay off some of the debt that some hunters owe the Guild. In the contract, he also says because he wants to be as free as possible, when he takes a bounty; the Guild may keep up to thirty-percent of his portion, to make sure that his freedom of the Code is acceptable." A surprised gasp or two as the hunters were stunned by this. "You all heard his conditions though. Droids," Karga continued, "you will never be partnered intentionally with him. All those with ships of your own," which was a minority of the hunters – they usually rent ones that the Guild provides and lets the fees for that come out of the bounty – "you will be partnered with him if there ever needs to be a partnering. If you have further questions," Karga started to finish, "just look at the contract on the data-pad." He rose then as the crowd broke up to huddle in small groups to talk about the events that had taken place. He at this point didn't care, he was going over to the bar to get a jar of spotcka, he needed it.
~ POV Change ~ Din Djarrin
Din left the cantina that was where the Bounty Hunter Guild usually did business, trying not to feel too annoyed. She was tired and wanted to go back to her ship to sleep, but she couldn't. Not yet, she had to do a primary scout first. The comm that automatically tuned into the planet's local communications was mostly static. Nothing interesting going on at the moment. She still wanted to know more about what would be a part of her routine now.
Her first idea was to scout the bazaar. There are all kinds of stalls there, but she also wanted to be sure that there was some kind of way for her to get to her various bank accounts – or at least some of them. She wouldn't want to be stranded without some form of income that the Guild didn't know about. Call her paranoid, she preferred the term Mandokarla. Din stalked through the bazaar, bypassing many stalls that had no interest to her. There was one, however, that made her pause and study it. The vendor beckoned to her with an encouraging smile. An old man with what little remained of his hair as white as snow and eyes that seemed to be almost as pale. She approached.
His smile widened as he started, "It has been too long since I have seen one of your kind, Mando," his voice was a fluting whisper compared to the shouting that surrounded them, "I saw you pause and wondered how can I be of service today." Din smiled unseen as she replied, "I am interested in your wares," she gestured to the seedling packets, "what kind of seedlings are these?" He looked at her with some surprise. After all, who had heard of a Mandalorian interested in gardening?
The vendor smiled and said, "Well, I have seedlings from all over the parsec. Mostly common plants from planets in this sector that thrive in volcanic soil. I have some rare ones though," he picked up one packet that had a picture of some kind of vine, with golden fruit. "This here is a local berry vine from the far side of Nevarro. Takes two standard years to bear fruit, even during unsavory weather, but this one in particular has been known to make excellent wine. Good enough that Core-folks will pay well for it." As she perused the vendors wares, she became aware of eyes on her. They were not hostile, not really. They were different.
Din straightened and looked around casually. There, at the corner of the booth just two vendors down, was a kid. It looked Human, or mostly Human, with a tattered robe of some dirty brown color on it. She ignored them for now, instead she picked up several packets that caught her interest and said "How much?" The vendor stared at her and said with evident surprise, "one hundred credits, but – "She handed him stated one hundred and said in a quiet tone, "Is there a forge around here?" He glanced at her and said something about scrappers and a junk yard. No really useable forges, then. She inwardly sighed and nodded farewell.
Turning as she placed the seedling packets into the hidden sack-pouch under her cape, she started to walk on. A few seconds later, she heard the kid make their move. The kid had probably never heard of a Mandalorian or if they did, they didn't recognize her as one. They tried to snag her pouch, the one where she had pulled the credits to purchase the seedlings. Instead, they found themselves snagged by the back of the robe and held up in front of her at arm's length. "What are you thinking?" Her growled question made the kid and the vendor both pale, and the kid to start whimpering. That was when she heard it, the kid's stomach growling.
~ POV Change ~
Sona knew that she could catch trouble for this later, but she was getting too scared to care. Her Mama was sick, and both of them were hungry. She needed to buy food, but there was no money. With Papa gone and Mama too tired to work, she needed to do something. But she couldn't get a job. No one wanted to hire a little girl-brat. So, she tried stealing. Sometimes it worked. For small things like a little ration-pack on the edge of a table. She had gotten very good at it, in the very long week since her Mama started coughing. Sona was worried though, Mama was getting weaker with every passing day and she was afraid.
She hadn't meant to; she had seen the shiny-head walking down the streets. She had never seen him before, so she thought that he came from off-planet, so she thought he wouldn't know the streets as well as she did. She could snatch the pouch he took the money from and run. He couldn't catch her; she was really fast. Sona ran for the pouch from under the cover of the people coming and going. She had nearly gotten within snatching range of the pouch, when suddenly she was snatched.
Snatched right off the ground and was being held up by – she gulped. Shiny-Head had her by the back of her robe and was holding her in front of his face. His voice was deep when he was talking to the old man vendor. Now it sounded deeper, like the distant booming of volcanoes erupting. "What are you thinking?" Sona couldn't help it, she whimpered. She was scared, she was hungry and she wanted Mama. Her tummy growled.
Shiny-Head looked at her tummy, then back at her face. The voice was still deep, but it was not boom-scary anymore. "Kid, never try to pickpocket a Mandalorian. It is bad for you." He lowered her to the ground, but didn't release her. She struggled a little before his growled order to stop, made her stop struggling to get away and start near crying. Shiny-Head was going to do something bad. Bad Things always happened when adults that were not Mama caught kids. At best, she might get slapped a couple of times. At worse, she might vanish and never see her Mama again.
"Want a job, kid?" the question startled Sona so much she looked up at Shiny-Head. "I need a guide for this city. You want to play Guide for a couple of hours?" A job! That wasn't a Bad Thing. Mama always said it was better to have a paying job than to steal anyway. She nodded, hiccupping softly. Shiny-Head released her. Passing her a credit, he said, "Well? Lead on." She nodded and started trotting.
~ POV Change ~ Din Djarren
Usually, with a street kid, Din usually scares the ever-living daylights out of them and send them on their way with a warning not to try to steal from any Mandalorian. But this kid was a little girl with slightly gaunt cheeks and rumbling stomach; this kid is different for some reason. She couldn't put her finger on the reason why, but it turned out to a mutually beneficial arrangement. The kid would get a few credits and she would have an outline of this location.
The vendor and the few passing people who had seen the drama stared for an instant, only to turn away hurriedly when she turned her helmet towards them. The little girl started moving away, she followed her. They were walking for a few minutes, the little one pointing this or that out to her. "That way is underground. It was the old sewer system. No one uses it now. If you're not careful, you could get lost." "That vendor always sets up here, even when it is ashy. He always seems to be there." And "That is a place that I can't go. Mama said so." And on it went for several booths. Din made mental notes on everything that they passed. The place the little girl had said she couldn't go to looked like some sort of brothel. She didn't blame the girl's mother. But it left the question of where this little girl's mother was. And why did the mother leave her daughter to go hungry. This would need investigating.
As the duo passed a food seller's booth, she put a hand on the girl's thin shoulder and said "Stop," Din picked up three small red-orange fruits and tossed a credit at the vendor. The vendor caught it and blinked. She held up the three small fruits and gave one to the little girl. The little one stared up at her in amazement. "Well," Din drawled, "eat while we walk. I would like to know more about this place." The girl started and then nodded. Biting into her fruit as she started trotting again. Din followed.
"Sona." Din looked down at the little girl. "What?" The girl flushed and mumbled, "My name is Sona." "Sona," Din said thinking the name over. The bazaar was ending when little Sona gasped and darted forward, her almost completely-eaten fruit forgotten in the dirt. Din watched the little girl rush up to a human female that had staggered down the street. The woman was coughing and hacking.
Din frowned and proceeded to walk up to little Sona and the woman – who she suspected was the mother – while placing the two left over fruits in the hidden sack, along with the seedling packets. As she approached, she saw that the woman was near skeletal, she was so thin. There was a scar on her neck and another one on her cheek. Her hair was a cropped red and matted to her head with sweat. Her eyes when she looked up to see her approach, were a glazed over blue-green. The woman was sick, very sick. 'Probably too sick and weak to work.' Din thought as she stopped a scant foot away from the two. Sona was crying softly saying something along the lines of "mama too sick, mama should be resting" and the woman was hugging her and saying things like "mama will, if Sona comes home." The voice that came from her throat was raspy and choked. Din made a decision. "She can't just yet and neither can you."
The woman turned to look at her again and now a kind of hazy-understanding of just who she was seeing seemed to get through to her. But before she could say or do anything other than turn a pale gray, Din lifted her off the ground and cradled her as if the woman was a child herself. The woman was shamelessly easy to lift. Din turned to Sona and said to the staring child, "Show me to the nearest clinic." So, Sona did.
Near jogging, the little girl showed the way, Din following with the mother in her arms. The way was about ten minutes of striding after little Sona. Sona took them through alleys and a way that seemed to be a dead-end, which turned out to have a false-wall. The clinic was at the end of the street, on the corner farthest away from the false-walled alley. Sona went right up to it, but paused. Turning to Din, she pantingly said, "This is the best one, but it costs lots." Din said, "It doesn't matter at the moment." She strode inside. The mother who didn't have the strength to struggle or even remain conscious for the entire trip, was simply limp. Sona followed after them.
~ POV Change ~ Sona
'Mama should have stayed home. Mama is too sick.' She thought as she tried to run as fast as she could to the closest clinic in the city. She had heard people say that the more it costs, the better it is. This one was the most expensive, but everyone came out alive. Sona took a few shortcuts, hoping she wouldn't lose Shiny-Head. Shiny-Head was like Mama. Shiny-Head gave her a job, food and was strong. Strong enough to be pick up Mama and carry her like Mama used to do for her. Her everything was tired. Her feet and her throat hurt. Her tummy was rolling around and made her feel bad. Her eyes were burning.
Shiny-Head didn't stop, he went straight into the clinic, still carrying Mama. Sona followed him inside. Shiny-Head went over the nearest bed and placed Mama on it, gently. A woman wearing a white coat came up to Shiny-Head. Shiny-Head said "Treat her and the girl." The woman turned to her in surprise. Sona flinched away from the woman. She was scared. She ran over to Shiny-Head and hid behind him. She didn't know Shiny-Head, but she knew he was strong and fast and like Mama more than anyone else she had met before. Shiny-Head seemed to sigh as the strange woman seemed to snap out of whatever surprise had come over her and bent down to look at Mama.
Mama's eyes were closed and she wasn't breathing right. The woman was scanning her with something and when she looked at it, Sona didn't like the look on the woman's face. It looked sad. That meant bad. The woman met her eyes and then silently handed the scanner to Shiny-Head. Shiny-Head took it and looked at it. Shiny-Head was silent for a couple of minutes before he spoke, "Do you have a breathing apparatus that you can use on her?" The voice – deep as it was – was calm. Sona relaxed; Shiny-Head knew what to do. Shiny-Head will help Mama.
"Ugh, yes, but it – "the woman started, Shiny-Head interrupted with a quick "Get it." The woman just looked at Shiny-Head then she went to get it. She was kind of scared of Shiny-Head. Sona didn't blame her even if she didn't know why. When the woman came back, Shiny-Head took it from her. The woman flinched and backed slightly into a corner. She was playing with something. Shiny-Head looked at her, then turned to Mama.
Mama was coughing slightly, trying to turn on her side. Shiny-Head looked over at the woman and growled "Lift and brace her." The woman slunk over to Mama and Shiny-Head and did as Shiny-Head told her. Sona watched all this. She was tired, but she fought off sleep. She wanted to know what was going on! The machine that the woman brought was set down beside Mama and Shiny-Head put a mask on Mama's face. Then he took something off his belt.
It was a pouch. He pulled out a vial of something that glowed slightly. The woman holding Mama up, started as if shocked by the vial. Shiny-Head ignored her and put it in the machine. The machine hummed and the started making noises like a pump. Mama breathes quickened for a moment. Sona watched amazed as Mama started looking a little more relaxed in her sleep. Shiny Head got up then and seemed to be searching for something. He asked about something that Sona didn't know, but the woman did. She got up from where she had been holding Mama up and did something so that the part of the cot rose to hold Mama up instead. Mama was sleeping deeply now, looking more peaceful than she had in a long time. Sona yawned; Mama would be okay. Shiny-Head had helped!
~ POV Change ~ Din Djarrin
The mother's illness would be clearing up by tomorrow afternoon at the latest, thanks to the specialized bacta. Now, the trouble would be getting some nutrients into her and her daughter's systems. Din could see that the mother was near collapsing from starvation. Coupled with the inflammation in her lungs, it could have spelled her death and sentenced her daughter to a similar fate or worse. She could see little Sona starting to yawn. She was a little fighter, but she was still just a kid. Sona would be asleep in a few moments. That would be fine by her.
Din turned to the medic. She was only a nurse assistant; the real medical doctor must be out making a house call. The woman had tried to be subtle about it, but Din had seen the comm in her hand. The doctor would know what was going on before he got in through the door. Din didn't care.
She instead bent down to look at little Sona, who was now leaning on her leg and blinking rapidly. The little one was falling asleep on her feet. Din carefully scooped the child up and gently placed her on the cot with her mother. Sona just curled up without a sound and fell asleep, tucked between her mother's side and arm. It was a warming, yet heart-breaking scene. Din mentally shook herself, there was no time for that. She got the scanner that had been left on the other side of the machine, where she had set it down on a nearby tabletop.
Din bent over the little girl and scanned her. Malnourished, but other than that, she was healthy. Considering all the facts that she had and what she could infer, Din thought she could see what happened. But, how to do anything about it? She was a Mandalorian. She would find a way! That was when the doctor barged in, blaster pointed at her and a nurse droid hybrid behind her.
~ POV Change ~
When Doctor Hadi got the emergency signal from her little sister, acting as the clinic's secretary/assistant, she was just finishing up with the mechanic that had gotten pinned under some collapsing junk pile. The mechanic had been fine, just a few bruises and scratches. She had only come because the other womp rats he worked with had been too afraid to move him. Hadi had taken K8-MB1 with her just in case it was actually serious and the patient needed transporting back to the clinic. It hadn't been, but now she regretted taking the droid. K8-MB1 would have been able to protect her little sister from whatever scum had come into the clinic. She could also be jumping to conclusions, she thought as she let K8 carry her faster than she could run. It could have been just someone that hurt and needed more help than Rekas could provide. But she would be cautious. The clinic was in sight.
K8, at her signal, let her down and she drew her blaster. It was a small thing, but it would take out anyone who was messing with her sister. She charged in.
The first thing she noticed was the Mandalorian that was looking at her. The next thing she noticed was the fact that the Mandalorian was standing next to one of the cots with a sleeping woman who looked near dead. The third was that her sister was in a far corner, unharmed. She lowered the blaster slowly from where she had it pointed at the Mandalorian, holstering it just as slowly. Hadi didn't want to put the Mandalorian's back up any more than she already had.
The Mando had just looked at her, then at her droid. The stance changed, becoming more aggressive. She couldn't guess why. The Mando was tense and looking very uptight. She didn't want to set him off, so she turned to the droid, "K8," the droid turned to her, "please go check inventory." The droid went to do the asked task, disappearing into the back. The Mando followed its every move until K8-MB1 left the sight. Only when it was gone completely out of sight did the Mando turn to look at her.
"These two are in need," a deep and raspy voice came from that silver bucket, a gloved hand gestured to the cot. Two? Hadi came forward to see a little girl, barely out of toddlerdom, curled up on the other side of the bed. "Here," she glanced up to see a data-chip and a pouch being offered to her. She tentatively took it. "If you need to contact me, this is my information. The pouch is for the mother and her child." The Mandalorian nodded and strode out of the clinic, before she could find the words lodge into her throat. Abrupt, that one.
She looked over at her sister. Rekas had a sheepish look on her face, "Sorry, he just startled me and I didn't know what to do for the mother and daughter." Hadi shook her head. "I held a blaster on a Mandalorian. I am lucky he didn't shoot me." She replied as she crossed over to put the pouch on the counter. She might as well open it and see what she had to work with. The pouch revealed a sum of credits that had both sisters staring. Twenty-thousand. Twenty-thousand credits for a pair of strangers? The sisters looked at each other and Hadi remembered the data-chip. Contact information. She would definitely keep contact with this Mandalorian.
~ POV Change ~ Din Djarrin
Din was ready to sleep for a day and a night cycle and eat a bantha. She was grateful that she had an excellent sense of direction and the helmet's settings that allowed her to near follow her own footsteps. It took a few minutes to get to the entrance of the bazaar and another few minutes to find another food stall. She was also grateful that she had thought to carry five pouches of credits today. She gave the most to the Guild for fees and debt paying. She didn't expect the hunters to be grateful to her, but it would hopefully keep some of them sated for now. Din had no intention of fending off other bounty hunters because they were desperate for work. She would have to kill them and that would be a waste of time and energy.
The second largest pouch was one she called the Samaritan Pouch. She only took that thing with her when she felt the urge to. It didn't come often, but when it did, she always gave it away. Din could afford to, so she did. The others didn't have as many credits as the ones given away, but they held enough to restock anything that was needed. At the moment, nothing was needing restocked on her ship. She had bought the seedling packets on a whim. She knew from experiments that carbonite freezing didn't affect vegetables and fruit, but would it affect seeds and seedlings? The seeds would go in a little experiment for her to try out the idea.
No one was really paying her any attention and she wanted to sleep before she explored more of the town. That settled her mind of where she was to go now. Back to the Razor Crest.
It took another fifteen minutes, before she saw the Yards. She saw her ship, silhouetted against the sunset. She went towards it, and tired as she was, she looked around. No Jawas, yet. Must be working on those two former-Imp controlled installations. She compressed a button on her vambrace, it told the Crest to lower the smaller hatch. It was the one she most used and would only use when Ground Security Protocols were activated. And she made sure to activate them every time she left the Crest. The only ones allowed near her ship – besides herself - were the Jawas and a few mechanics; all of which knew better than to get near her ship without her nearby.
The hatch was just touching the ground when she finally made it to her ship. Up the hatch she went, sending the closing command even as she walked up the ramp. Din was inside and safe. She had been up ever since she had started the approach of the refueling station. She needed to sleep. Din looked down at herself. She didn't have the energy to climb up to her personal quarters and have a shower. She instead opened the old compartment that used to be a primitive medical bay, when it was part of the patrolling fleet for the Old Republic. She had revamped it of course, but it was still tiny. She removed her boots, her belt with its pouches, the sack that lay hidden under her cape, the cape and left them in a pile by the foot of the bed. Din took the helmet off her head and placed it beside the head of the bed. She laid her vambraces there and yawned. She should eat and take a shower, but she was just too tired. Instead, Din curled up under a thin blanket and went to sleep.
[Sometime later]
Din woke from her sleep, rested. She lay there in a curl for a moment, just trying to enjoy some peaceful quiet, before she remembered that she hadn't finished exploring the town and hadn't talked to the Jawas yet. She got up, grumbling to herself.
She didn't bother with cooking anything when she got out to the more open part of the deck. Din simply grabbed a ration bar and began to chew mechanically. As she finished the last biting, still chewing actually, she started redressing. Putting her helmet in place, she paused. Din ate a second ration bar as she walked over to the computer cabinet. The computer had gotten to forty percent done. Her eyebrows rose. Definitely going to be some interesting things on that computer now. The slow pace was either to protected information or lots of traffic in the facilities or a combination of both. She closed it and decided to empty the hidden sack for now. She would need the space.
Leaving the seedlings and the two fruit on the counter by the sink, Din went to the cabinet where her specialty carving kit was and put it inside the sack. She also went and got a special package she had made years ago. It comprised of several little trackers and a close-frequency tracking fob. The package went on her pouch, just under the sack. That was when she put her helmet on and opened the hatch. She very rarely used the bigger hatch that was still useable. Why would she need to?
She walked down the hatch and as it closed up behind her, she looked at the sky. It was still night. Fine by her. It may be more deserted than before, but that made it easier to see what was hidden during the day. She walked into the town.
It took her a few hours of steadily looking around, before the sun began to rise. This was when she went underground to explore the sewers that had been pointed out by little Sona just yesterday. There was a curtain over the entrance that she brushed aside. There was a small stairwell. She pulled out one of the little trackers and dropped it. There it lay, blinking a little red light. Din started walking, exploring the tunnels. They were dark and silent and remarkably clean – they must have been part of a very old sewer system that had been cut off from use. For that at least. There a hint of Sulphur now, she followed her nose to the source to find a river of lava.
She looked at it and the surroundings. It was an underground river of lava. Where did the river go? She would find out later. Din turned back and walked up the sloping tunnel up a wider stretch of tunnel. Taking out the fob from her kit, she saw that it was too her left. She looked and actually saw the tracker right where she left it. It was about fifty meters away. When she looked to the right, however she saw what must have been some part of a filtration system. A circular room with minor vents in the ceiling and was actually a little lower than the wider bit of tunnel leading to the stairwell. She stepped down to look at it and was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling.
A feeling of something coming, just on the horizon. That something, when it came, would be like a dawn cresting a far too long night. She didn't understand what, but she knew it meant something big. It would not be soon, she probed the feeling, it wasn't even paling the sky, that heralded first light, let alone dawn. No, it would not be soon, but it would come. She would have to be patient. In the meantime, she knelt and got her sack from her back. Taking out the carving tools that were made for carving anything from stone to ivory to wood, she began to make a sign. A sign that would be unmistakable to anyone who knew Mando'a. She carved the words "Su cuy'gar teh beroya" {Translation: Hello [and literally means "You're still alive"] From Bounty Hunter} into the lintel of the room. Looking at it, she nodded to herself. There, in a hidden place, in a labyrinth of tunnels would be a message that no one could find. An electronic one could be, but a carved message? Impossible unless you looked at the stone face itself. Din hoped the feeling was right. It usually was, but there were things that seemed right and changed. Like false starts in races.
Well, Din was finished exploring the tunnels for now. She thought of something then and went back to the lava river. There she left a tracker. She would come back for it later, to find out where the river went. That was when she left the sewers entirely and entered the bazaar again. The noise of vendors and customers alike were obnoxious, but she bore up the irritation. Din looked around, she should probably check on little Sona and her mother. She started down the route she had taken to get to the clinic.
She paused at three vendor's booths along the way. Once to get a jar of bone broth, another to get a small bunch of fruit that looked similar to meloni-fruit, and the last stop was more surprising for the vendor, one who made toys. There was a fluffy bantha toy that would hopefully be perfect for Sona. Din near froze, she was treating little Sona and her mother as part of her family. 'No,' she thought, 'I am treating them like good people who have had some rotten luck and need some help to get back on their feet. That's all.' With that thought, Din continued to the clinic.
~ POV Change ~ Dr. Hadi
The woman that had been brought in had been sleeping for most of the day, only stirring around midday. The scanner had shown that the lungs were completely healthy and the only problem now would be to get her to a healthy weight again. The little girl had woken up earlier and had been distressed to not see "Shiny-Head". Hadi and Rekas had been confused for a moment, before it dawned on them that the little girl was talking about the Mandalorian. It had taken most of the morning to get the little girl to tell them how she had met the Mandalorian. When they had gotten the story from her, the sisters were amazed. And amused. Who had ever heard of such a strange Mandalorian?
When the woman was awake, looking aware and sound in mind – if not in body, Rekas asked her about what had happened to bring them to this state. The mother had bowed her head and explained in a low voice that she had been a waitress at a cantina that had closed down recently. It hadn't paid well, so she didn't have the money to spend on rent or too much food. She had been looking for more work when she had gotten sick. The mother's name was Mona. She apologized for putting them in any kind of trouble and asked how she could repay the debt she owed to them for taking her and her little girl in. Mona had seemed surprised by the statement that there was no debt.
"But how can that be?" Mona asked, looking lost and even a little frightened. "Shiny-Head!" little Sona chirped from her curled-up position beside her mother. All three women looked down at Sona, the sisters with amusement and Mona with confusion. "Shiny-Head?" Mona inquired. Hadi said "The Mandalorian."
Mona jerked her head around to stare at her. Apparently, she had been too far gone with fever to remember the Mando. Rekas told Mona, "The Mandalorian carried you in here, late yesterday. He actually had some special type of bacta that could be used to help clear up that sickness in your lungs. And he left you this," here Rekas gave over the pouch that the Mando left with the sisters to give to the mother. Where some might have kept the pouch and said nothing about it, the sisters hadn't taken anything yet. They weren't so desperate for credits that they would rob someone. And they would give a heavy discount. After all, they hadn't really treated Mona or Sona. The Mandalorian had done most of it.
They understood the mother's shock and confusion when she saw just what was in the pouch. She shook in on the cot, shaking with raw emotions. Mona stuttered a question too low for either sisters to hear. But someone else did. "Shiny-Head like you Mama," Sona said, "Shiny-Head nice."
"Shiny-Head?" said a deep, raspy voice came from somewhere behind them near the door. All four people jumped and turned with various noises of surprise. There in the doorway stood the Mandalorian himself with a net-bag held in his right hand. How they hadn't heard him open the door, none knew.
"Shiny-Head!" Sona near-shrieked and got off the bed. She ran over to the Mando and hugged him around the knee. The Mando just looked down at the little girl and put a hand on her head. Patting it slightly, he said "Let go, kid." Little Sona didn't let go. The Mandalorian just looked at her for a moment and then seemed to let it go. He looked up at the three women and began to walk. Little Sona wrapped her legs around his leg, but that didn't seem to slow the Mando down at all. He was just as graceful walking with a kid wrapped around his leg as he was without said child.
He came over to the bed and there stopped. Looking down at Sona, he said "Get off." This time Sona did. She let go and crawled back onto the cot to curl once more, on her mother's side. The Mandalorian looked at them for a moment and then – to Hadi and Rekas - "Do you have cups that they can use?" Rekas looked intimidated by the Mando, so Hadi nodded and proceeded to get up and get the requested cups.
When she returned from the back where she had them stored, she saw that the Mando had taken the net-bag and opened it to reveal a jar, some fruit and a bantha toy. He was holding the toy out to the little girl who was staring at it with wide eyes. "You may have this after you eat," turning to Mona, who was staring just as much as Rekas and Sona were, the Mandalorian stated, "I never got your name." Mona stuttered her name as Hadi brought the two cups over.
The Mando opened the jar to reveal bone broth. Pouring it into the cups, he handed both over to the mother and daughter. "Drink," he ordered. That went on for some minutes, the mother and daughter drinking the broth. They both had two cups and were now working their way through the fruit. When the fruit was finished and both Mona and Sona were blinking with sleepy contentment. The Mando – who everyone was feeling a feeling of suspicious surprise at – handed the Bantha toy over to little Sona who looked at it and hugged it. Snuggling down into her mother's side again, she fell asleep.
Mona and the Mando seemed to stare each other down for a moment. Then Mona asked in a weak voice, "Why?" The Mandalorian tilted his head and said "Because you are a mother with a daughter you try to do right by. Everyone has a stroke of bad luck. Sometimes, people just need a little help. In this case, we can help each other." He glanced up at Hadi and Rekas, "All of us." All three women stiffened, wondering just what the Mando had up his sleeves. "Mona, what do you do? What can you do?" Mona flushed and said "I was a waitress and sometimes singer and flutist. I lost my job when the cantina I worked for went out of business." The Mando looked at her and asked "Do you have any experience working with bacta manufacturing or otherwise?" Mona looked up and shook her head with startled confusion. That was not a question anyone had thought he would ask. Bacta was only found on one planet in the Inner Rim after all. No one knew how to make it outside of the planet it originated from. Where was the Mandalorian going with this?
"With your lungs healed, you should be able to sing and play the flute again, but you are severely underweight. You shouldn't strain yourself or you will fall ill again." The Mando paused and then said, "How quick can you pick up new things?" Mona looked down at her daughter then looked up at the Mando, "For her," she said with a strength the sisters wouldn't have known she had, "I will learn at lightspeed." The Mando nodded as if satisfied. "Good. Rest and get better faster." Turning to the sisters, he said "Do you have an access point to the old sewer system?" They were startled by the question. Rekas answered with a stuttered yes and said it was in the back. The Mando got up and seemed to pause.
"Is the droid back there?" Hadi glanced at the Mando in surprise. "No, K8 is out getting supplies. We had run low on a few things so we sent them to go get what they could – "The Mandalorian was already walking towards the back. He had started fiddling with one of his vambraces and was just looking around the supply room, when Hadi followed him back there.
She could not help but ask "Rude, much?" The Mando seemed to ignore her. Hadi was just about to ask him what his fecking problem was when he started towards the semi-covered vent near the back. "I don't like droids." The simple statement with a menacing growling undertone, warned Hadi that this was a sore point for the Mando and she shouldn't pry. The grate wasn't welded shut and the Mando lifted it off easily. He turned on a light that was somehow attached to his helmet and peered inside. He seemed satisfied by what he saw. He took a blinking red something from his pocket and dropped it inside the gaping hole. The Mando withdrew his head and put the grate back on it.
She led the Mandalorian back out to the front of the clinic, where Rekas was seeing to a newly come bounty hunter who looked like he had gotten on the wrong end of a fire. Both his arms were badly burned and a line or two of scorch marks on his tunic and pants showed he had been in one hell of a fight. He looked up and said "Hello, ma'am." Rekas looked up and said, "Hadi, could you have a look over him? I want to make sure I got everything."
Hadi nodded and went over to inspect the newcomer. Rekas withdrew and started putting information into their computer for records. As Hadi inspected her sister's work, she noticed that the Mando wasn't in the room. She wondered about that, but didn't want to draw attention to the fact that there was a Mandalorian here. Hadi finished her inspection and said, "You didn't miss anything Rekas. And you," she addressed the hunter, "need to keep those dressings on for another week." The hunter nodded and then asked "What do I owe you?" Hadi turned to Rekas who had finished putting the needed information into the computer records and was turning towards them. Rekas said "five hundred credits." The hunter winced, but pulled out the stated number. Handing them over to Hadi, he got up and left the clinic.
Hadi turned to see the Mando coming out of the back room. She wanted to ask, why he had hidden, but thought the better of it. What he did was his business, not hers. If it was about that mysterious business about bacta manufacturing or investing in her clinic, well, that was both their business. But she didn't think the avoidance of the hunter had to do with that.
The Mandalorian handed her a data-pad. It had was a list of materials. "Could these parts be found here in town?" She looked up startled to meet the visor of his helmet. Nothing, no emotions, no flickering spark; just a blank black visor. Hadi looked down to peruse the list. Some of the parts weren't available without some exorbitant amount of credits, but they all could be found if you know where to look. She said as much to the Mando as she handed him back his data-pad, who nodded, then looked over at Mona. She was sleeping again, the time spent with the Mandalorian obviously wearing the poor thing out. "That pouch should be enough to keep both of them in shelter and food while this gets set up," he said softly. The deep voice seemed to purr out. "Is there a bank or a place for communications off planet?" The question puzzled her, but she nodded anyway and stated "Yes, to both. The bank has a way to communicate off-planet that is three blocks west of here and there's a communication center by the East Yards."
He nodded as he pocketed the data-pad. "I will be off-planet most of the time, but I will be stopping by when I am." She nodded, thinking that was all there was to say for now. Indeed, it was; the Mandalorian half-bowed, turned and exited the clinic. Rekas giggled slightly. When Hadi turned to her, Rekas said, "For a race with the reputation of the likes of the Mandalorians, you would think them cold-hearted butchers. But him," she looked towards the door, "I think that there's a fine man under that armor."
Hadi shook her head in exasperation at her sister. "Don't start crushing on him," she warned, "Mandalorians never take off their armor in front of others. He no doubt will not let you take it off of him. Especially the helmet. Anyway," she continued; thinking on the idea the Mando had had, "You only met him just yesterday." Rekas sighed longingly, "I know, but – ""But nothing." Hadi was firm, she wouldn't let her little sister go all moon-eyed over a Mandalorian. He would only break her heart.
~ POV Change ~ Din Djarrin
She exited the clinic, thinking about what she would start here on Nevarro. The manufacturing of Bacta wasn't illegal exactly, but she would have to be careful who knew about it. The manufacturing wouldn't be for mass production, but it would be enough for the clinic and for herself, hopefully. It would also help Mona feel like the debt to her will be paid and help keep the bacta expenses down for the clinic. A couple of targets in one shot.
The next stop would be to the bank with communications. According to the directions given to her by Dr Hadi, she was just a few minutes away from it. She walked into said bank a few minutes later. When she walked in, the first thing she noticed was that almost all the personnel were droids. That got her hackles up, something the doctor hadn't mentioned. She walked in and looked for some one who had a brain in their head, rather than a circuit board. Din found one, a Zabrak who looked bored out of his skull. When he looked up to see her, he actually blinked a few times, before asking her what he could do for her. She said, "One of your clean computers, no trackers, no droids." He blinked again and gestured to a console off to the side. She walked over to it and started it up. Keeping an ear on what was going on behind her, she inserted a data-chip. The data-chip held information on one of her Middle Rim accounts. Din would set it up here instead of having to go all the way back to the Middle Rim to get funds that weren't from the Guild bounties. It wasn't the biggest one by far, but held more credits than most people this far from the Core saw in three lifetimes.
Din smirked to herself. It also happened to once belong to a former client who had tried to backstab her. She had remonstrated with the man thoroughly. In the end, she left the bargaining table with his accounts, his life and a bloody reputation. Time to actually use the funds, rather than let them sit in a bank accruing interest for a change. The transfer "paperwork" took about four hours, and the entire account would be transferred to this branch of the Galactic Banking System with two weeks. Fine by her, so long as it did get here. She had enough funds to last her that long.
Din turned to see that the Zabrak was staring at her. She looked at him, then turned and walked out the door. She didn't feel anything from him, but curiosity brought on by boredom. He might try to look at her information, might even have a droid look it up, but it wouldn't do them any good. The account information was only for the Ghost Mandalorian, it held nothing else.
She made her way back to the Yards, where the Razor Crest would be waiting. On the way, she saw a dark alley that – according to her sensors – had a grate leading to the sewers. Might as well, she decided. Din went over to it and noticed it wasn't welded shut. Din opened it and using the night-vision in her visor, managed to see that this part of the sewer system was barely big enough for a woman of her height to stand. They would have to be bent over slightly to keep their head from knocking the ceiling. She felt like exploring a little anyway.
When Din lowered herself down and closed the grating above her, she noticed the heat wasn't as high as it was by the bazaar. She took the closed-frequency tracker from her pouch and began to try to sort her way through the maze of tunnels. It led her to a tunnel the size of the one that she had marked with the two trackers. Before she could go further though, she smelled Sulphur. It turned out that the lava river was found throughout this maze. The opening here, however, had one difference. There was a ferry droid here. Din stiffened. The droid was old and looked almost fried. For right now though, she could use it. She got into the boat. The droid seemed to perk up and beeped at her. "Down-river," she stated. The droid beeped and began to pole the boat through the lava. While it did that, Din decided she would check her messages. If the Jawas, the Guild or even the women back at the Clinic tried to contact her, she could hear the messages through a closed link actually in her vambrace. She plugged in the code that would allow her access to her messages. There were actually two messages, one from the Jawas, and one from Karga.
The Jawas' was simple. There had been a delay, they couldn't meet her on Nevarro. There was more to do than they could really handle with just three tribes that were there. They asked if she would accept another time. She frowned, that would take a while to figure out; depending on what Karga said. She opened that one and nearly laughed aloud.
A bail-jumper puck was waiting for her at the Cantina. She could pick it up whenever she wanted. The message was short and to the point. Good.
The tracker had steadily blinked faster as the droid ferried her down the river. She told it to stop, where she could make out the tracker, she had left at the entrance that was closest to the bazaar. She climbed out and put a credit in the droid's open "hand". The credit went in and the droid seemed to collapse in on itself. It really was old and probably wouldn't last for much longer. Din turned her thoughts away from the ferry-droid and made her way up to the surface.
She emerged from the curtained off sewer entrance to see night had fallen. The walk down the street was quiet, not many were out now. Din knew that she shouldn't use that entrance too much, it would draw attention later on. She would find some other way. The underground lava river was promising. She wondered if it stayed level like that and had an exit out of town, maybe out of sight. That would be worth investigating later.
Din walked into the cantina that the Guild operated from about five minutes or so later. It was mostly empty. There were a couple of bounty hunters at the bar, including the one who had been by the Clinic to have his burns looked at. Karga was still there in that booth that seemed to be his unofficial public office. He looked up, startled to see her enter. He felt like he was nursing a headache from overdrinking. Her nose wrinkled scornfully. Her stride took her to the booth in a matter of moments and as she looked down at him, Karga pulled a small pouch of some kind of leather and handed it to her.
Din opened it to find a bounty puck and tracking fob. The bounty was for a Twi'lek called Qin, a bail-jumper, who had apparently been caught smuggling. She looked at Karga, nodded and turned to leave. Not a word was said. "Be seeing you," Karga called to her back as she exited. Din ignored him as the door shut behind her. A hunt had begun.
Din returned to her Razor Crest after another five minutes worth of walking. She was ready to eat, shower, take off planet and sleep. Closing the hatch, she took the bounty puck out of the pouch and read off the last known coordinates. It was about a week away. Okay with her. Climbing to the cock-pit, she started up the engines. A few minutes after that, she was leaving Nevarro's atmosphere and punching in the coordinates for the last known coordinates for her prey. Only when the blue blur of hyperspace was around the Crest, did Din put the autopilot on and go down to start something to eat.
She wasn't in the mood for anything hot though. Being on Nevarro, especially on the lava river, had made her want to revisit the Hoth system again to catch a chill breeze or a gale. A meal of fruits cut up with a bed of mixed greens and a handful of nuts made a fine meal. Washing it down with a glass of water, she felt sated. Getting up, she went to the sonic shower on the upper deck. Pulling the armor and clothes off and leaving them in a pile by her armor stand, she went to clean up. Coming out of the shower, she donned the sleeping clothes.
Din didn't fall down into bed though. First, she actually picked up each piece of armor and clean and polished each piece until it shone and no longer smelled of Sulphur. She took her clothes and left them in the sonic shower downstairs and brought the clean garments up the ladder to put away in the chest. Once that was done, she climbed back down the ladder to open the special valve that would warm her bed up. She filled the slow-cooker with frozen casserole-like dish that would be her breakfast for when she woke up again, adding enough water to cover the bottom of the cooker. Then she went back up the ladder to her bed. Right now, she was still a little warm from Nevarro, but she knew that soon enough, she would be shivering. It had been a long day, productive and interesting, but still long. She fell asleep once again, under the covers, between one deep breath and another.