In the Shadows

by Cuthalion97

What starts as a simple mission quickly spirals out of control - as so often happens. The commandos of Bad Batch, while highly skilled, are still new to the war and have never worked with a Jedi. Quinlan Vos is used to working alone. But the Sith are on the move. Ancient evils shift restlessly in the shadows of Malachor, and Palpatine is not the only one who worships the dark.

16. Supply Run

Pushing her chair back from the computer desk, Vythia stood. "That should settle everything, Hunter. Welcome to the team."

Hunter eyed her outstretched hand momentarily before taking it. "Thanks. When do we start?"

"Not for two days yet. I had not anticipated finding a team so quickly, and there are still details that need attending to here."

"You've already hired the entire team?" cut in Vos from where he leaned against the wall. "Mind if I ask who else is in it?"

"No one, apart from those here." She narrowed her large eyes thoughtfully. "I believe a team of six is reasonable. Enough that we can deal with the various traps and challenges that may arise, and yet not too many."

"Huh." Quinlan cast Hunter a short, sharp glance before flicking his gaze back to Vythia. "What about Dengar and the other guy. . . Embo, you said? Are they part of a backup team?"

"No." Vythia smoothed the skirt of her black dress. "I have hired them to guard the Prince's establishment while we are on Malachor."

"So," said the Jedi slowly. "That basically means we're on our own out there."

"Yes." She turned back to the computer and logged out. "Does that concern you?"

"A little, yeah. I mean, going to an uninhabited planet at an unknown location with no backup whatsoever . . ."

She cast him a strangely perceptive look. "Why the sudden worry, Quinlan? I thought you said you worked alone."

"Yeah, but not on jobs like this. I've never been dumb enough to explore old ruins on my own. If a labyrinth comes down on our heads, no one will ever find us at all, let alone in time to prevent our suffocating to death."

With a faint smile, Vythia gestured. "We will, of course, take every precaution, but the Sith built their cities to last. I think collapsing buildings will be the least of our concerns."

Hunter decided it was time to play up his bounty hunter character a bit. "Come on, Vos, you've signed on to the job and you're part of the team. Hope you're not entertaining second thoughts, 'cause you're paying for passage on our ship whether you come or not."

The Jedi rolled his eyes. "Listen, Hunter, or whatever your real name is – I don't skip out on jobs."

Before Hunter could do more than blink his surprise, the Jedi went on. "Vythia, you coming on the Marauder with us?"

"No. I have my own ship. I will give you the coordinates for Malachor when we are ready to leave."

"Right," Hunter said, stepping back into the conversation. "You got any jobs for us before we leave?"

"Not at the moment. . . although I assume it would be advisable for you to prepare your ship and purchase supplies."

"We were gonna do that anyway," Hunter replied. "Anything special we need in the way of supplies?"

Vythia's black eyes glittered with excitement, and her mouth turned upward in a faint, eager smile. "Who can say?"

Tech and Crosshair looked from each other to the Nautolan woman, then at Hunter, who shrugged. Wrecker frowned, and Quinlan cleared his throat.

At that, Vythia seemed to come back to herself abruptly. "I have never been to Malachor. Use your own judgment in selecting supplies and specialized equipment."

Tech lifted a finger. "That might well be a hit-or-miss situation. After all, we have little to no information about Malachor. Even its climate is listed as 'unknown'."

Wrecker jostled him. "We'll do fine, Tech," he said. "Hunter? We headed out?"

"A moment," said Vythia, unlocking a compartment beneath the computer. "You do not have funds here, do you?"

Hunter paused, uncertain of what his answer should be.

Vos shook his head. "Nothing substantial – not on this planet, anyway."

"Same here," said Hunter, following the Jedi's lead.

"It will take too long to transfer credits," said Vythia. "I'll give you an advance on your pay instead."

"Thanks," said Quinlan, accepting a credit chip. "These unmarked?"

She inclined her head, amused. "Of course. There are one thousand credits on each. I trust that will be enough? Or are there repairs you need to make to your ship?"

"No, this'll be fine," said Hunter. He accepted the stack of four chips and handed one to each of his squad mates. "Thanks."

"Right, well, we'll be around," said the Jedi. He headed for the door with a wave.

Wrecker stumped after him, grumbling. "Speak for yourself. You're not in charge here."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever . . ."

Tech rolled his eyes, and Crosshair sniffed disdainfully; then the two of them followed the Jedi, leaving Hunter and Vythia standing near the computer.

Vythia raised an elegant eyebrow after the four men. "I hope I won't be short a team member before the day is out."

Hunter smirked. "I'll handle them. Has Vos worked for you before?"

"No." She turned an interested gaze on him. "Why do you ask?"

"He's traveling with us. I mean, I don't personally have a problem with him – yet. We're on the same job and he's willing to pay for transport. But I'm not sure I like the sound of this psychometry."

"What is causing you to hesitate?"

"Not sure." Hunter glanced through the open door, where the others were waiting for him. "Could be just the fact that it's nothing I've run into before."

"Justifiable," she said. "Psychometry is an unusual gift, at best, and Quinlan has an uncommonly high skill level. But I see no reason to worry."

"You're the employer," he answered with a shrug.

"Yes." Vythia cast him a quick smile. "Is there anything else?"

Shaking his head, he replaced his helmet. "All set."

"Very well. I will speak with you soon."

Hunter strode out, trying to ignore the creeping feeling that traveled up and down his spine. The warehouse door shut behind him, and he peered up through the dark blue light cast by the city below.

Dengar had disappeared from the roof. As near as he could tell, no one was watching him, but still . . . Hunter jerked his shoulders back to shake off the odd feeling, then joined the others, who had gathered in a small group near the walkway.

"What is it?" muttered Crosshair.

"I don't know." Hunter glanced back at the warehouse. "Something about her . . ."

"Hm," Tech agreed. "She is – odd."

"She's creepy," whispered Wrecker.

"Okay, okay." Quinlan tapped him on the arm. "Let's get back to the ship before someone hears you insulting our employer."

Hunter stayed at the back of the group as they headed back to the landing pad and entered the Marauder. As soon as the door sealed behind him, Hunter checked the security lock twice before moving into the hall.

Just in front of him, Vos slouched dramatically back against the wall. "Right, well, that was more or less nerve-racking."

"Hm," Crosshair sniffed, setting his gun carefully in the storage rack.

Quinlan frowned. "You don't need to sound so critical. She's – smart."

Crosshair mirrored his position against the opposite wall. "And you're – not?"

"Am," the Jedi retorted, looking vaguely insulted.

Wrecker let out an irritated groan. "Guys, come on! You're always arguing!"

"I wasn't arguing," Quinlan said maturely. "I was criticizing Crosshair for being so, uh, critical."

"Cut it out, both of you," said Hunter, joining them. "If I have to listen to constant bickering for the next two days, I'll lose my mind."

Quinlan raised a questioning eyebrow in Crosshair's direction, then tilted his head at Hunter, and the sniper smirked his agreement.

Hunter folded his arms. "And if you both deliberately try to make me lose my mind, I swear I'll lock you in the brig."

Tech, distracted from his datapad, blinked in confusion. "We don't have a brig."

Hunter stared down at him, unfazed. "Then I'll lock Vos in the cockpit and Crosshair in the barracks."

"Good idea," grumbled Wrecker.

The Jedi looked thoughtful for a moment. "You know, Hunter, I outrank you."

"And we outnumber you. In fact – Wrecker, Tech and I outnumber you and Cross."

". . . Fair point. Wait, what?"

"Yeah." Crosshair looked equally insulted. "How'd I end up on the same side as him?"

"When you agreed that annoying me would be a good idea."

Both the Jedi and Crosshair rolled their eyes, and Hunter sighed and unfolded his arms. "Let's head to the galley."

"Fine." Crosshair shot Vos a dark look as he passed.

"I definitely outrank you," Quinlan protested under his breath as he shoved himself away from the wall.

Hunter pretended he hadn't heard. As he headed aft, he caught sight of Vos checking the security lock on the outer door. The Jedi was a bit more nervous than he'd like to admit, and Hunter thought he had every reason to be. Vythia Archane – something about the Nautolan woman was off.

The sergeant glanced down at the credit chip in his hand. "Tech, you'd better locate the nearest half-reputable market."

"I've already found it," Tech replied. "It's only four levels below this landing pad."

"Good. We'll get started as soon as –"

"Hey, Hunter?" Quinlan entered the galley in a whirl, his previous mood apparently forgotten. "Any objections to filling the next couple of days with some additional mission-type stuff?"

"That . . . depends." Hunter slipped the credit chip into a pouch on his belt. "What did you have in mind?"

Quinlan sat down next to Tech, clasped his hands, and stared thoughtfully at them. "I was thinking that I'd like to investigate the Prince. He might not be the most dangerous enemy we have, but he's still the one behind the artifact hunt."

Hunter leaned against the doorframe and regarded him. "How would you do that while keeping it a secret from Vythia?"

"I don't know. Yet. But I don't want to sit around doing nothing."

"Same here!" Wrecker pulled off his helmet. "But I thought we had to get supplies."

"We do. . ." Quinlan ran a hand through his hair, causing it to appear more wild than usual, and glanced at Tech's datapad. "That the nearest market?"

"Yes."

"Good. There might not be stuff there beyond absolute basics, but between one place and the next, we should be able to find what we need, equipment-wise."

Hunter shook his head. "Quinlan – slow down. What equipment do you think we'll be needing?"
"For one thing, I need a good vibroblade. Maybe even two."

Crosshair flicked a toothpick across the room into the disposal unit. "With only one thousand credits?"

The Jedi smirked. "Look, I know how to function in crime cities. You'd be surprised what you can find in a place like this."

"Okay," said Hunter dubiously. "What should we be looking for, though? We're not exactly short on supplies."

"No . . . but you are short on non-GAR-commissioned supplies."

"Oh!" Tech abruptly set down his datapad. "I had not even considered that."

"It shouldn't matter for rations and stuff like that, but stuff marked with the Republic insignia? Bad idea."

"We'll get on that," said Hunter. "How do you want us to split up?"

"Well, first, we'll all hit the regular market," said the Jedi. "You'll do some bartering so that I can figure out whether I can safely release you into the wilds of Nar Shaddaa."

Hunter was still wondering whether that had been an insult or not when Wrecker cracked his knuckles loudly. "You think we can't handle a few thugs?"

"It's not about that," the Jedi said, and leaned forward. He looked surprisingly serious, for a change. "It's about whether you can make a purchase without being robbed blind or whacked over the head. It's about walking through the city without everyone guessing you're soldiers. It's about not getting a target painted on your backs because you look out of place."

Hunter looked at Crosshair, expecting a sharp retort, but to his surprise, the sniper was listening intently.

"I see," said Tech, putting his datapad away. "We are trained for infiltration and hostage situations, though – wouldn't this be somewhat similar?"

"A little." Vos jumped up, brushing off his tunic. "Come on, let's hit the town."

The others turned to Hunter, who shrugged, feeling slightly amused at the fact that the Jedi Knight seemed to know so much about the underworld. "Okay. What are the rules?"

Quinlan stopped, studying them all for an instant. "Well, you guys walk around like you own the place – that works fine for the image we're trying to project. Biggest thing to remember is not to draw attention by looking impressed or threatened."

Since Hunter didn't feel impressed or threatened by Nar Shaddaa, he figured that wouldn't be too much of a problem. "So act like this is all old news."

"Yep. All cantinas are the same, that kind of thing."

Hunter glanced at Tech. "We've – never been in a cantina."

"Hey, no kidding." The Jedi Shadow looked interested.

"Have you?" Crosshair asked.

"Oh, yeah. Best places to pick up intel. I mean, information. Nothing like passing out a few free drinks to get the locals' favor."

"That," said Tech, "sounds a good deal like bribery."

Quinlan hit the door control. "Yeah, it's total bribery. Works, too."

Hunter glanced at his men and gestured them out. "Well . . . odds are, we'd have been sent on this kind of mission eventually. Might as well learn what we can now."