A.N./Ayyyy… another chapter. Merry Christmas and whatnot.
I'm still not 100% happy with this chapter, but it's good enough for me to post today.
Chapter 5: New life, same shit.
The blazing heat of the twin suns in the sky burned against his back. It didn't matter if he was wearing armor and clothes underneath that armor. The hellish heat of this blasted sandball never seemed to go away. The rocky cliff he was laying on wasn't much better. Its surface was even more burning hot than the air. "Take the shot."
"Shut up Sarrl." He zoomed as far in as he could with his mediocre scope. Centering the sights on the target.
"You're gonna miss at this rate." Sarrl replied casually. The soft whirring of the inbuilt macrobinoculars in Sarrl's helmet adjusting only barely registered to Slate's ears.
"Shut. Up. Sarrl." His finger ghosted over the trigger, and he took a deep breath.
"Come on! Hurry up, you're gonna miss it!"
He pulled the trigger. The blaster bolt soared across the sand and impacted with enough force to knock the target back. "THERE! It's dead! Happy?!"
"Nice shot. Little too far to the left and up a little though."
He groaned. "You are insufferable."
"You're just jealous that I'm a better shot." Oh, now he's being just downright annoying. They both got up from their perch and moved down the cliff towards where their landspeeder was parked.
"You use a long blaster, I use a blaster rifle. Big difference."
"So now it's a big difference." He suppressed an annoyed sigh. He hasn't known Sarrl for long, but he's resigned to losing this verbal match; knowing full well he cannot win.
"Just, can you just get the speeder ready so we can leave?" Sarrl shot him what was most assuredly a cheeky grin under his helmet, hopped into the driver's seat and fired up the engines. He in turn shifted his grip so he was holding the barrel of the modified blaster with its stock towards the ground and vaulted into the front passenger seat.
With a jolt the speeder took off at high speed, racing towards the downed tusken. With the high speed of the land speeder, the two of them arrived in only a couple dozen seconds. "Hurry up and grab that things gaffee stick, there'll be no bounty if we head back empty handed."
"I know, Sarrl!" He ground out.
"Alright, alright." Sarrl raised his hands in surrender. "No need to bite my head off."
He scoffed at the older man, scooped up the primitive weapon, and hopped back in the speeder.
Once again taking off with a slight jerk, he marveled at the great dunes as they sped past, still in awe of them even after a week on the planet. Never in a million years would he have imagined his life becoming what it has. He's learned so much about the daily going ons of the galaxy that he wouldn't have ever expected to exist. Even such a mundane thing as currency was a new and fascinating concept to him. He always thought people traded items of some practical use to obtain what they wanted. The idea to use a standardized and widespread medium of exchange is downright brilliant in his mind. Yet it's a completely normal and overlooked concept to the people of the galaxy! Absolutely maddening!
The dunes tapered off into vast flats shimmering with heat; a sign they were approaching Mos Espa. Working with the crew of the Respite has also been a completely different experience to working with Iggie.
His mood turned somber. He dearly missed his friend. It's been an adjustment living without him, but it's not all bad. He's alive, and he's part of a group he tentatively trusts, if only barely. Cassus is a grumpy old veteran, but despite his old age he is still very capable. Sarrl is a short and sarcastic joker, but he's a scary good shot. Kane… he will begrudgingly admit the blue skinned medic is capable despite their rocky start.
Then there is Kane's younger sister. Varra is… she mystifies him. She behaves strangely around him, saying things and moving in ways that leave him flustered. He hasn't actually seen her in action yet, but he cannot help but feel something far more profound towards her than any other of his new companions. The fact he doesn't know why he feels this way is the most distressing. Is it due to some chemical imbalance in his brain? Did he hit his head too hard back on that rock? Could it be something to do with the Force? Or is he simply going crazy?
"Hey Slate?"
"Yeah?"
"Did you choose the name Slate because your life is a clean slate now?" He banged his head into the dash and groaned in annoyance. Meanwhile, Sarrl laughed at his suffering.
"No Sarrl, I did not choose my name based on a pun." Puns… he loves them and hates them. On one hand, they are rather impressive from a pure intellectual standpoint. Being able to come up with a wordplay joke quickly, takes an admirable grasp and understanding of language. On the other hand, puns can be incredibly annoying. "My old ship was named the Sleight of Hand, so I just took it I guess."
"Boring~." He scowled at the sharpshooter, but he continued speaking.
"I… never really had a name before, and I still don't really feel like I do. Slate, as far as I'm concerned, is just another designation. It doesn't feel like my name, but it's good enough I suppose..." He trailed off. Unsure of what to say next.
"Yeah? Well, I guess we all got issues." He shot Sarrl a dubious glance at his uncharacteristically sympathetic tone. "What? You think you're the only one allowed to have a troubled past?" Sarrl scoffed. "Get over yourself."
His fist clenched in anger. He wasn't that self-centered, but before he could verbally lash the older man; the speeder came to an abrupt halt. "Save it Slate. We've got a bounty to turn in before we report to Cassus."
"Yeah, yeah." He and Sarrl hopped out of the speeder and walked into the local Imperial garrison office. The receptionist, a somewhat lanky lieutenant, shot them a forced smile, and sat up a little straighter in his seat.
"Welcome to the Mos Espa garrison office, are you here to collect a reward, or to sign up for our glorious military?" The lieutenant's tone was pleasant, but it also held a trace of arrogant condensation. The Force however, revealed his true feelings of disgust. More specifically, disgust of them. Thankfully, he was wearing a full visored helmet that concealed his face, otherwise the rather… unpleasant expression he wore might have caused issues.
"A reward." At Sarrl's prompt, he set the gaffee stick down on the desk, and the officer's lips twitched upwards slightly.
"Ah! Good. The more of those savages you kill the faster the Empire can civilize this backwater." The lieutenant put the primitive weapon under his desk and brought out a handful of credits. "Here you go! Three hundred imperial credits as specified by the bounty on sand people."
Sarrl deftly snatched the money before motioning to speak, only to be cut off by a sudden shout. "What do you mean it's GONE?!"
All three of them looked over to see the base commander, Major Valko, yelling at two unfortunate scout troopers. "It's just as I said sir, Mos Isla is gone. It's been wiped out completely."
"How?!"
"Sir." The scout on the left said, glancing around. "Perhaps we should take this somewhere else."
Valko's rage seemed to quell only briefly as he looked over towards him and Sarrl, before he scowled and dragged the two into his office.
The lieutenant cleared his throat, bringing their attention back towards him. "I trust you both won't spread this around?"
Although his words were polite, his tone held an undertone of warning. Sarrl said nothing, only raising his hands and backing off towards the door. He, meanwhile, gave a nod and moved to follow him.
As soon as the speeder started moving Sarrl spoke up. "Cassus will want to hear this."
He only nodded slightly, keeping silent for now. He briefly wondered if sand people had been responsible. For a bunch of savages, that would require an… unpleasant amount of cunning to pull off.
Leaving him in his thoughts, Sarrl wasted little time bringing them to the rented hanger housing the Hunter's Respite. As soon as he shut the speeder off, Sarrl hopped out of the driver's seat, and moved to enter the hangar they've been storing the Hunter's Respite in. Grumbling under his breath he moved to follow, and with a momentary jog he quickly caught up. Just after they passed through the hangar door, they spotted Cassus playing, and losing, a game of sabaak against Kane.
"DAMN!" Cassus cursed as he folded his hand. Kane, to his credit, didn't even flinch at the volume; grinning slightly as he collected his winnings.
"Hey Cassus!" He called.
"What?"
"Some place called Mos Isla is gone."
"What?!" Cassus whirled to face him, surprise written across his wrinkled face. Kane and Varra were similarly wide eyed at the revelation. Sarrl, seeing his lack of care for the subject, decided to step in on the explanation. "So! We were turning in a bounty…"
He tuned the story out. Preferring to take a spot next to Varra leaning against one of the Respite's landing gears. He slid off his helmet, letting it dangle from his grasp, and gave her a quick once over. She looked a little haggard. The upper portion of her undersuit was unzipped and hanging off her waist, leaving her torso covered in only a short, loose fitting, olive, tank top. Her blue skin glistened with sweat, and had patches of soot from working on the Respite. "Can't handle the heat?"
His attempt at humor was met with a halfhearted glare. "I'm literally built for the cold."
He chuffed slightly. She meanwhile shifted her face from a glare to a teasing smirk. "Though, it seems to have gotten a little hotter now that you're here."
He shifted uncomfortably and averted his gaze. Blasted woman. "What's your take on this?" He nodded his head at Sarrl; still in the middle of his story.
She mercifully went along with the change in subject, and hummed slightly; bringing a finger to tap gently at her chin in thought. "Sand People can't wipe out a settlement of that size. They wouldn't have the numbers."
He nodded absently.
"Maybe the rumored Tusken General is real after all." Kane suggested.
Sarrl scoffed, and plopped down on a crate next to Kane. "The Tusken general is a myth. A concoction of stupid and fearful people."
"Where was Mos Isla?" He asked, finally deciding to enter the discussion.
"Up north."
"How far?"
"Not very." Cassus grunted out.
He frowned. That's… not good. Though he's not particularly concerned. After all, they are just a bunch of savages living in the sand.
Varra seemed to have enough of the conversation and moved to continue working on the Hunter's Respite with her tools.
"I still don't buy it." Sarrl chimed in. "No way could sand people pull off something like that. My money is on a Krayt dragon being responsible."
Kane and Cassus shared a look, while he just shrugged. "Is it even our problem?"
"Not unless we're paid for it to be our problem." Cassus laid it out, plain and simple. The settlement's disappearance wasn't their problem. Regardless of Kane's misgivings, The older man's word was effectively law in this little group of theirs.
"Besides, even if it were our problem, there's not much we can do about it now. The sun is getting low and tracking sand people in the dark is a death sentence." He scoffed at Cassus's words, earning him a scathing glare. Not that it really affected him much, what was it going to do? Make him think of sand people as a threat? "Buuuuut, there is a bounty here in town we can take care of before the day is over."
And like that, he got everyone but Varra's attention. Cassus tossed a holoprojector onto the ground and a hologram of an Ithorian sprung into existence. "This is Kanthor Rudo. He's wanted in seven systems for five accounts of smuggling stolen imperial military property, seven cases of assault, and twenty one cases of evading justice."
Sarrl let out a low whistle, and he paid rapt attention as Cassus carried on. "He's wanted alive for fifty thousand credits, and worth nothing dead."
"Location?" Finally, a proper target once again. Picking off random sand people for the past week has been dreadfully boring, a feeling he is unaccustomed to. Admittedly, it has allowed him to practice with a blaster; enough to make him a good shot.
Cassus smirked. "Just a short walk from here in a dingy back alley cantina."
"I'm backing out from this one." He shot a curious look at Sarrl. "Gee~, it's not like I fight from a distance instead of close quarters or anything."
He scowled at the sarcasm, but then looked towards the silver haired man. "You, me, and Kane?"
"Looks like it."
"Does he have any backup?"
Kane, who's kept quiet so far, answered that one. "Probably whoever's in the cantina."
"So, we don't know? Well, that'll at least add some challenge."
"Remind me. How well did your last challenge work out exactly?" The Chiss's flat voice, and slight upturn of the lips only added to the insult. He grit his teeth and shot to his feet; ready to show the blue-skin his place.
"Enough!" Cassus decided to step in and end the conflict in its infancy. "Both of you shut up, and get-" Cassus grabbed Kane's E-11 off a nearby crate and shoved it into the Chiss's chest. "-SET to leave!"
Kane staggered, but nonetheless loyally moved to follow Cassus out the door when he moved towards it. Meanwhile, he grumbled under his breath, slapped his helmet back on, grabbed his rifle, and followed as well. "Blasted aliens…"
She heard some footsteps and looked to see Sarrl moving to a door on the wall of the hangar. "Where are you going?"
"Upstairs."
"Why?"
He lifted his long blaster over his head and kept on walking. "Overwatch."
She huffed as the door hissed shut behind him. "Ooooo… I could use that fifty thousand to buy some new parts…"
It didn't matter that she won't be helping them get the bounty. After all, she deserved the reward for flying them everywhere, and there are plenty of good parts she needs lying around in Mos Espa's many scrap yards.
The twin suns had started to set, shrouding Mos Espa in a slight dark. As such, many of the street vendors from the day were absent, leaving the city a near ghost town. The only encounters they had were late closers, and the occasional stormtrooper patrol.
So when they entered the cantina clad in armor and carrying weapons; they were suddenly under the scrutiny of every set of eyes in the building.
Cassus, uncaring of the stares, strode to the back of the building with him and Kane hot on his heels. The older man's grey Mandalorian armor and large stature cut an imposing figure even amongst the various non-humans in the cantina.
His head moved on a swivel, examining every occupant in the room, and their unwelcoming stares. Each one was armed in some fashion, and looked involved in less than legal occupations. He sensed their unease at his group being in the building, but he also sensed small amounts of confidence.
Strange.
"Cassus, something isn't right." He made sure his helmet's external speakers were off before he spoke. Cassus, in response, slightly turned his head towards him, but only stopped when he reached a table with a Rodian, Deveronian, and an Ithorian. He couldn't tell if this was the target or not, most non-humans look too similar to others of their kind for him to tell apart with any accuracy.
"Are you Kanthor Rudo?" The Ithorian responded in it's strange and indecipherable warbling language.
"I want to know. Now answer the question." The Ithorian warbled some more, and suddenly every blaster in the room was pointed at them. Patrons, bodyguards, bouncers, even the kriffing bartender was pointing a blaster at them. In the sudden and potentially violent situation, he found himself back to back with both Cassus and Kane. Cassus hadn't moved, but he and Kane had quickly raised their rifles at the rest of the cantina.
"Cassus!" He hissed. The Force started blaring danger warnings at him. There is a big difference between being surrounded by blasters, and attacking a wall of blasters. Something he learned from experience. The Ithorian started warbling again, but Cassus's voice came through his helmet's comms partway through a warble. "Dive for cover when I give the signal."
His eyes darted around the room in search of a good piece of cover, he noted an alcove in the wall to his left.
"Now!" He dove for the alcove, and a flurry of blaster bolts flew overhead. Tucking into a roll, he leapt to his feet, and upon standing he was already behind cover. Poking his head out slightly, he saw their target slinking out the entrance of the cantina before he was forced back into cover by a blaster bolt striking a bit too close to his head. Instinctively he reached out into the Force to try and combat his opponents.
"Fire your rifle Slate!" Cassus roared at him through the comms, shocking him out of his trance. That's right. The Force shouldn't be used so frivolously anymore. As much as the Force was a useful tool, it could easily get him killed if even one survivor rattled their mouth to the Empire about it. He tried to peak the corner again, only to be stopped by a blaster bolt grazing his helmet. "SON OF A-!"
"You hit?!" Kane called out.
"I'm good!" He growled curses under his breath, and searched his belt for anything that could help. His hand landed on a small cylinder, and his eyes widened in realization. A grenade! Of course! How could he be so stupid?! Moving quickly, he grabbed one of the grenades Cassus gave him days ago, pressed the red activation button, and deftly threw it behind the counter on the other side of the room.
"GRENADE!" People frantically dived for cover before an explosion rocked half the cantina, and he was forced to fight against a stumble. As soon as his footing stabilized, he rushed out of cover firing his blaster with unnatural accuracy. While he couldn't actively use the Force for fear of exposure, the passive benefits are impossible to stop. He could react to things before they happen, sense people in another building, and best of all; shoot more accurately than he had any right to. Each pull of the trigger sent a bolt of superheated gas into someone's cranium, and a body tumbling to the ground. The scum were completely unprepared for such a vicious assault, doubly so when Kane and Cassus joined the fight after a second.
"What did you throw?!"
"A grenade."
There was a pause. "Behind a counter full of flammable liquid?"
Alcohol is flammable? What a happy little accident. Now there are even more dead enemies than he predicted. A wonderful outcome all things considered. "Whoops."
A few pulls of the trigger later and everyone in the building holding a blaster that wasn't him, Kane, or Cassus was dead. That was only the beginning. "C'mon! We can't let him escape." Cassus called out to the both of them as he ran for the exit.
Once outside, they managed to spot the target round the corner in a small cargo speeder. "Well, that's just-"
He was cut off by Kane and Cassus taking off with the roar of two jetpacks. He stared blankly through his visor at their quickly distancing forms. "Bastards…"
A sudden clattering of metal had him spinning around, rifle raised. Only to see the bartender from the shady cantina next to an old speeder bike. Strange, Slate had been sure there were no survivors. He briefly glanced to the left of the bleeding man and saw a hidden door. How clever. The bartender was a dark skinned bald man in tattered fatigues who had clearly seen better days. His wide, fearful eyes were slightly obscured by some dark spectacles, and he was clutching his mauled left arm in clear pain. Slowly, he raised his good arm and spoke. "Please, have merc-"
A quick pull of the trigger, and blaster bolt to the head ended the bartender. Not even sparing the fresh corpse a glance; he quickly hopped onto the speeder bike, started it up, and sped off in pursuit.
Just as he turned the corner a stray blaster bolt zoomed past his head, causing him to instinctively duck away from it. Looking down the street he saw the cargo speeder being doggedly chased by the jetpack bound Cassus and Kane. Occasionally Cassus or Kane would fire at the speeder; only for it to hit the thickly walled large back compartment, and the target would fire back with a blaster pistol. He slammed the throttle forwards and sped off.
Thanks to using an actual vehicle, he caught up rather quickly, only for the back of the cargo speeder to explode outwards, narrowly missing him and Kane. With the back compartment now open they saw the Deveronian from before aiming an E-WEB at them. Without missing a beat, he deftly manipulated the controls to dodge. Just before the horned alien opened fire.
Heavy blaster fire raked across the street, creating a deadly avenue of pursuit. How did these lowlife scum get an E-WEB?!
He scowled. Dodging and weaving through the storm of blaster fire with the skill only someone trained in the Force could achieve.
A flash of red came out of his right peripheral, flew between two buildings, and struck the Deveronian in the side of the head; killing him instantly.
He balked at the near impossible shot. Unfortunately, the corpse slumped forward causing the E-WEB to swing downward, and fire straight into the front of his speeder bike. A small explosion erupted from the vehicle, and he was sent into a violent; extremely painful tumble. Fortunately, the mounted blaster cannon, still swinging downward, fired straight into the bottom of the cargo speeder. A much bigger, but still small, explosion erupted from the rear of the larger vehicle, sending it careening into a nearby warehouse.
Meanwhile, he was splayed out next to the burning wreck of his commandeered transport, groaning in pain.
The roar of a jetpack assaulted his ears before abruptly cutting off, and Kane's helmeted head bent over into his field of view. The slit visor glaring down at his prone form. "You okay?"
"Do I sound okay?"
Cassus cut in. "If you can complain about it, you're fine."
He groaned, but still stood. Kane put a hand on his shoulder, and he shrugged it off. Only for it to clamp back down on him instantly. "Hey! Listen to me. Retract your visor."
He glared, but complied. Only to wince when Kane shone a light in his eyes. "Stop that!"
He tried swatting away Kane's arms but the Chiss was persistent. "You black out at all? Are you dizzy? Do you have blurry vision?"
"What? No! Stop shining that blasted thing in my eyes!"
The light disappeared, and Kane hummed; satisfied. "Well, you don't have a concussion."
He was annoyed at the blue skinned man, but felt rather put off by the concern Kane showed for his well being.
The sound of metal clanging together drew the three's attention to the wreckage of the cargo speeder. Stumbling out of the crash site was the Ithorian from before. It rubbed its eye stalk, head thing, obviously in pain. It froze, and slowly turned to look at them. They stared right back, and it took off in a sprint, moving behind a building. He immediately took off after the blasted thing, unslung his blaster, and kept it at the ready.
"No wait!" Kane called, but he ignored the medic. When he turned the corner, he was greeted by the Ithorian taking a deep breath. Heh, stupid alien.
It exhaled.
The alleyway violently shook and started to crumble. He tossed his rifle to futilely try and cover his already covered ears with his hands. His organs vibrated and some capillaries burst from the violent sound waves.
It stopped almost as quickly as it began, but he was in no shape to stop the alien from entering the warehouse from a backdoor.
His ears rang and his organs hurt. There was blood oozing from several places, eyes and ears included. His vision was swimming violently, but he still saw Cassus run past his prone form. Kane appeared in his vision, his helmet missing. The older man reached out to him saying something, but he clumsily shoved him away and tried to stumble to his feet. He didn't even manage to get off his knees before he collapsed. His helmet felt like it was suffocating him, he gripped it under the chin and ripped it off; sending it clattering away. As soon as his visor was no longer over his eyes; his stomach forcefully evicted its contents, a disgusting mixture of blood and bile.
His swimming vision lessened a little, until a hand gripped the side of his head, and his stomach threatened to empty itself again. Something cold injected into his neck and he instinctively swung at it's source. It was a clumsy and uncoordinated thing that didn't connect with anything; it's momentum sending him sprawling. He lay there for what felt like hours until his body stopped feeling like it was about to fall apart, and his ears stopped ringing. "Idiot, that's what you get for not listening, and rushing in like a reckless fool!"
He turned his head to his left. Kane stood there, glaring down at him, but he didn't argue back. Why would he? As much as he didn't want to admit it, Kane was right. It was a hard and sour pill to swallow. He ran ahead without them and he paid for it in blood and agony. He grit his teeth, and looked back up at the night sky. Ever since he arrived at Sullust it's been one humiliation after another.
"Well? What do you have to say for yourself?!"
"Sorry." Whatever Kane was gonna say next died in his throat as the Chiss stared down at him in surprise. He saw Kane's gaze soften somewhat in his peripheral vision. "C'mon, the bacta injection should've fixed most of the issues with your body, and Cassus probably needs our help."
He wordlessly stood, grabbed his helmet, slapped it back on, and looked at Kane. The medic nodded, slipped his helmet back on, and quickly moved towards the warehouse door; blaster at the ready. He silently followed, his body aching all the way. Kane nodded at him and they burst through the door, blasters raised and ready, only to be greeted by Cassus hiding behind a large crate and a shot whizzing right above their heads. They instinctively ducked from the danger, and ran forwards to join Cassus in cover.
"Nice of you to join me." The older man remarked.
"Bite me." He snapped. Cassus only chuckled in response.
"Slate, flank left. Kane, go right. On my mark." Cassus backed away from the crate and took a sprinter's stance. "Now!"
He and Kane burst around the sides of the crate guns blazing. Two of the shooters went down immediately. One with a blaster bolt to her head and the other with one to his chest. It was then that Cassus came soaring over the top of the crate. Propelled by his jetpack; Cassus let out streams of flame from his wrists, coating several unfortunate souls in fire, and their screams must've been the last straw for the rest of them. Blasters were thrown to the floor and multiple shouts of surrender filled the air.
He moved to shoot some more of the scum, but stopped when he noticed Kane start cuffing them. Begrudgingly, he slung his rifle and started doing the same.
He shoved the Ithorian to its knees, it tried to stand again but a rifle bash brought it back down to eye level with Cassus. "Well well well. If it isn't the slimy piece of bantha crap that had us chasing him across the city."
Kanthor glared at Cassus, or at least he thinks it was a glare. It's hard for him to tell with its… face? Either way it started to warble loudly, but he silenced it with another bash to the back of its head.
Cassus looked behind him at the rapidly approaching imperials and tsked loudly. Standing, he spun around to face the incoming military forces, and the target merely slumped in defeat. "Looks like this is the end of the line for you, and your little operation."
The Ithorian only dropped his head, and soon enough; imperial stormtroopers were surrounding them and storming the warehouse. One of those armored speeders came to a stop right in front of them, and strolling out of it with all his usual grace was an irate looking Major Valko. The imperial officer briefly glared at them before sighing deeply. "Would you care to explain, Ordo?"
"Just doing a quick bounty." The older man easily replied.
The major glanced at the kneeling Ithorian. "I see…" He looked back at Cassus. "You're payment will have to wait until we get back to headquarters and-"
"Sir! We found something you'll want to see." Valko frowned at the interruption, but still turned to face the speaker. "What is it… trooper…"
The major trailed off as he saw what they found. Stormtroopers hauled crate after crate out of the warehouse, each and every one of them bearing the imperial sigil on the side. There were already a dozen crates outside of the building, and the troopers showed no signs of stopping in the amount they carried out. He saw the Major gape slightly at the amount. He understood why when one of the troopers opened a crate only to find it full of E-11 blaster rifles. Those were imperial supplies and weapons, Valko's supplies and weapons. The major furrowed his brow and grit his teeth.
"Criminal scum!" Valko growled. "We're risking our necks protecting them from those savages, and all they can think about is how to rob us!"
He could see murder in the Major's eyes. The man was absolutely furious. "Trooper!"
"Sir!"
"Cuff the Ithorian and dispose of the rest."
"Yessir!"
He watched two stormtroopers drag their target away in cuffs, and the rest of the squad line up the warehouse workers with their heads against the wall and their hands behind their heads. He stopped paying attention to the troopers when the major spoke again. "You'll get your money Ordo. You and your crew have done a great service to the Empire by putting an end to this operation and we won't forget it."
"All in a day's work Major." He finally decided to chime in, nodding his head at the imperial officer. The Major shot him a sharp look that quickly turned thoughtful, and was redirected from him to Cassus. "If you're up for helping out the Empire some more, then I have a job for your little group."
Cassus shared another look with Kane before replying. "That depends on the job."
The major grunted. "I want you to investigate Mos Isla. The settlement went dark and I want to know how. I'd send some of my own men to do it, but they'll be busy cleaning up this mess." Valko waved his hand at the ever growing pile of crates.
Cassus nodded slowly. "We'll take the job."
Major Valko smiled. "Good, good. Now if you don't mind; I have a situation to handle."
With that, the good Major turned and walked away, barking orders to his troops. He, meanwhile, turned to the two older men next to him. "Well, I guess that settlement is our problem after all."
Kane snorted and shook his head before walking off in the direction of the hangar. He watched him go, feeling somewhat perplexed. He'd shown the Chiss medic nothing but scorn, and yet; Kane had shown genuine concern for him. Before he could think further on the subject; Cassus slugged him in the shoulder. "I've seen rookies do worse than you did today."
He shot a glare at the old Mandalorian. The backhanded compliment did little to soothe his wounded pride. "What of it?"
He tried to play it off, but his tone must've let his displeasure show. Cassus let out an amused chuckle, the gruff noise grating on his already frayed nerves. "Don't worry boy." The emphasis he had put on the word "boy" ground something fierce against Slate's nerves. "My training will beat the reckless out of you."
Admittedly, he didn't like the sound of that. "Now c'mon! We've got a job to prepare for."
Cassus jogged off and he followed with a huff. A wry smile worked its way onto his lips, as painful as today had been; it was kind of fun.
A.N./Well, this is the start of the Bounty Hunter arc! There are three main parts, or "sub-arcs" if you will, planned for this arc. Each will ideally consist of the hunt for a "big" target, and with a smattering of "fluff" or filler chapters in between. There is sort of a fourth sub-arc planned, but it is less one consistent event so much as it is a collection of smaller events. So, eh. Currently, this arc is planned to be around twelve chapters; this number is subject to change at my whim.
Guest #4: Hmmm… I wonder what makes you say either of those will happen? Like the reasoning behind it. Not saying if teaming up/death won't or will happen, that'd ruin the fun.
Slight update on how things are going for me: OWWW getting teeth removed SUCKS ASS! Also, wooo! A promotion at work! Less woo, my boss is gone. He was a good man and shall be missed.
Peace muh dudes!