Foundling
Chapter 5
The hangar bay of Groff Haugg's nerf-packing plant was vast and dimly lit, its chill air filled with the smell of machinery and frozen cargo. The massive doors creaked open, allowing the passage of Jervis's ship to land. As it descended, two guards stationed inside awaited its arrival.
"It's cold in here!" complained the Guineo guard, rubbing his elongated arms. He towered two meters tall with a burly body yet still held an air of meekness.
"Yeah, you've got that right. You get used to it, though," grunted the Draag guard, his yellow reptilian skin and a stout, bulky frame seeming to absorb the dim light around him.
"That's easy for you to say. You're cold-blooded," the Guineo guard continued, his voice echoing slightly off the metallic walls. "Why do we need to stand guard in here? The boss afraid somebody will steal a bunch of frozen nerfs?"
"It ain't the nerfs he's got us guarding, idiot," the Draag guard replied gruffly, his lipless mouth repelling to reveal razor-sharp teeth.
"You don't have to get mean," the Guineo guard muttered, a hint of sullenness in his tone. "I'm new. They don't tell me much."
As their conversation continued, Jango, clad in his Mandalorian armor, silently slipped into the hangar just as the massive doors shut. The ship had served as the perfect distraction, its engines' roar and the whir of machinery masking his entrance. He moved with predatory grace, sticking to the shadows, one of his blasters at the ready.
Jango, concealed behind a stack of crates, remained motionless as he listened to the guards' conversation. Beside him, a container full of death sticks lay partially open, apparently inspected earlier.
"What are we guarding, anyway?" the Guineo asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.
"Death sticks," replied the Draag in a hushed tone, his reptilian eyes scanning the surroundings.
"Death sticks?!" the Guineo guard exclaimed a bit too loudly.
"Shhhh! Keep your voice down," the Draag guard hissed.
At that moment, Jango heard Roz's voice crackling through his comm. "Death sticks. Ugh, terrible stuff."
Jango's gaze fell on the crate beside him. He noticed something peculiar: a faint green glow from the death sticks within. This wasn't typical for such contraband. Something about these death sticks was decidedly off.
"Roz, do you still have a chemical analysis droid on your station?" Jango whispered into his comm, his eyes never leaving the crate.
"It's an old one, but it's tapped into the Republic's latest contraband databanks," Roz responded, "Why?"
Jango knelt down beside the crate, ensuring he remained hidden from the guards' view. He extracted one of the vials from the crate with practiced care, observing its faint luminescence.
"I've got a feeling these aren't ordinary death sticks." Carefully, he activated a small device on his wrist and latched the death stick into a slot. "I'm transmitting a sample to you. Tell me if you find anything unusual," he said, his voice low and urgent. If these death sticks were more than they appeared, it could lead to a significant discovery about Groff Haugg's operations — and potentially a link to the Bando Gora.
"Weird," Jango overheard the Draag remark as the data transferred. "It's Gloom's ship, but I don't see him. It's empty."
"Who's Gloom?" asked the Guineo guard.
"Jervis Gloom. He was supposed to make a pick-up," the Draag guard explained, his eyes narrowing suspiciously at the ship.
"Ooohh. Right, a 'pick-up.' I get it."
The Draag guard sighed, a sound that echoed slightly in the vast hangar. "I'd better tell the boss. Wait here, and keep your eyes open."
Jango recognized this as his opportunity. The transmission to Roz was complete; now he had to move. If the Draag were heading to Groff Haugg, he would unwittingly lead Jango to his target.
Using his grappling cable with practiced ease, Jango propelled himself upward, landing silently on the upper maintenance rafters of the hangar. The high vantage point offered an unobstructed view of the Draag guard's movements below. Jango moved with stealth, his Mandalorian armor blending into the shadows cast by the industrial lights.
He kept one blaster drawn, ready for any unforeseen confrontations. Below him, the Draag guard navigated the labyrinth of storage rooms, unaware of the silent predator trailing him from above.
Suddenly, the shrill wail of an alarm pierced the air, its blaring echo reverberating throughout the facility. Jango's senses heightened. Had he been detected? His eyes scanned the area, searching for any sign of his exposure.
Below, he watched as the Draag guard, now visibly agitated, grabbed another guard rushing past. "What's going on?" the Draag demanded, his voice a deep growl of concern.
"A bounty hunter has infiltrated the facility!" the second guard exclaimed, his voice strained with panic.
Suddenly, a door near Jango swung open, and a guard clambered onto the rafters. The guard's eyes widened in shock as he came face-to-face with the infamous bounty hunter. Time seemed to stand still for a brief moment as they locked eyes. The realization of who stood before him dawned on the guard's face, and his mouth opened, ready to shout for help.
Jango didn't hesitate. In a fluid motion, he fired his blaster. But the instant it hit its mark, he realized the precariousness of the situation. The guard, stunned by the impact, began to teeter dangerously close to the edge of the rafters. Jango lunged forward, attempting to grab the guard before he fell, but it was too late. With a sickening sense of inevitability, he watched as the guard's body tumbled from the rafters, slamming onto a stack of crates below with a crash.
The noise echoed through the hangar as the alarm blared. Shouts erupted from below as the guards realized one of their own had just been taken out from above. Within moments, the hangar was ablaze with blaster fire in Jango's direction.
"Shit."
He ducked instinctively, but the rafters offered little cover against the onslaught of blaster bolts. Realizing he had lost the advantage of stealth, he made a split-second decision. Activating his jetpack, he soared from the rafters, weaving through the air with agile maneuvers as he returned blaster fire. He had hoped for a more subtle approach, but the situation had escalated far beyond that.
As Jango soared through the air, returning blaster fire, he knew one thing for sure – he hadn't triggered the alarm. There was another bounty hunter in the facility.
The thought sent a wave of unease through him. Was there a price on Groff Haugg's head that he wasn't aware of? Such a thing wouldn't be impossible due to his profession. Or, more troubling, had Tyrannus employed another hunter to track down Komari Vosa? He needed to stay one step ahead, not just of Haugg's guards, but of this potential unseen adversary. His priority was clear: reach Groff Haugg and get the information he needed.
As he rocketed out of the storage room, weaving a complicated path to throw them off, a voice from one of the guards reached him over the din of his jetpack. "You've got to be kidding me. Two Mandalorian bounty hunters?"
That statement struck Jango like a blaster bolt. He faltered mid-flight, a rare moment of shock rippling through him. His jetpack sputtered as he momentarily lost control, but he quickly regained his composure and steadied himself, continuing his flight.
"Two Mandalorians?"
The revelation chilled him to the core. In his line of work, crossing paths with another Mandalorian was rare. When it did happen, it was seldom without significant consequences. And there was only one other Mandalorian bounty hunter Jango could think of who would be bold enough to storm Groff Haugg's stronghold….
This mission had just become exponentially more complicated.
Landing quietly in a secluded hallway, Jango ducked into the shadows. Another group of guards rushed past, their hurried conversation catching his attention.
"One of the hunters was spotted near the carbon-freezing chamber," a guard said, his voice tense.
Jango's mind worked rapidly, piecing together his next move. If the Mandalorian was near the carbon-freezing chamber, then perhaps so was Groff Haugg. He made a calculated decision. He needed to head toward the chamber. Not only to continue his pursuit of Haugg, but also to confirm his suspicions on who this Mandalorian was.
As Jango moved stealthily toward the carbon-freezing chamber, his comm crackled to life, Roz's voice breaking the silence. "Jango, you were right about that death stick sample."
Jango paused, pressing himself against a dimly lit wall. "What have you found?" he asked in a hushed voice, his eyes scanning the corridor ahead.
"The main ingredient in death sticks is the common Ixetal plant," Roz explained. "But this one's loaded with a powerful neurotoxin."
Jango's brow furrowed beneath his helmet. "Did the databanks give any clues as to what it is?"
"Almost everything is classified. I've never seen anything like this before. But there's one word I got back. Morigaal."
Morigaal? The word was unfamiliar to Jango. Was it a code, a person, or a place? It was a puzzle piece that didn't yet fit, but it was a lead nonetheless. He would have to delve deeper into it once he was out of immediate danger.
"Thanks, Roz. It isn't much, but it's a start."
"So, had any luck finding this Groff Haugg guy?" Roz inquired.
Jango moved quietly, his eyes never leaving the corridor ahead. "There's been a development. It looks like our friend Tyrannus might've hired another bounty hunter. A Mandalorian."
"Mandalorian?" Roz's voice carried a mix of surprise and concern. "Didn't you say you were the last of them?"
Jango's steps faltered for a split second. "There's one more..." he said, his voice trailing off as he processed the implications. "I'll talk to you later, Roz."
"Good luck," Roz replied, her voice echoing in the helmet's comm.
Jango advanced silently, "I won't need it."
Finally, Jango arrived at the entrance of the carbon-freezing chamber. The large, imposing machinery used for freezing dominated the room, its lights casting an eerie glow. And there, standing at the control panel, was a figure Jango recognized instantly. His bleach-white hair and pale skin contrasted sharply with his battered, unkempt Mandalorian armor. He turned to face Jango.
"You're late, Fett," he said, his voice tinged with a mocking edge.
"Montross," Jango replied, his tone flat, devoid of warmth.
"It's been a long time, Jango," Montross continued.
"Not long enough," Jango retorted, his hand tightening on the grip of his blaster.
Montross pressed a button on the control panel, activating the carbon freezing machine. With a mechanical groan, the machine's claw moved, revealing its frozen cargo – a figure encased in carbonite. Groff Haugg, Jango presumed.
"If you're here to question this gangster, I'm afraid he doesn't have much more to say. He just froze up on me," Montross said, his tone laced with dark humor.
Jango felt a surge of frustration. He had been too late to interrogate Haugg himself. Montross had beaten him to it.
"Once again, I'm a step ahead of you," Montross declared, almost boastful.
The moment Montross finished his taunt, Jango didn't hesitate. He fired a barrage of bolts at his old rival. Montross, however, was just as quick. He ducked away, the agility in his movements belying the bulk of his armor. The rival immediately retaliated, his own blasters drawn and spitting fire. They met their mark on Jango's armor, and he staggered. His beskar armor withstood the onslaught, but the impact force was enough to shock him. One particularly close shot skimmed past his helmet's visor, the heat and light of it blinding him momentarily.
Just as he fell backward, Jango activated his jetpack to steady himself, regaining his balance as he struggled to clear his vision. But by the time his sight returned, Montross vanished into the labyrinthine facility. The fight was over as quickly as it started.
Jango holstered his blasters with a sigh. He had hoped to end this ghost of his past, a chance to settle old scores. But now, he was back to square one. Groff Haugg, frozen in carbonite, could provide no answers. And Montross had slipped away, eluding him once more.
The situation was frustrating, but Jango was no stranger to setbacks. He turned his attention to the surroundings, his eyes settling on an adjoining room to the carbon-freezing chamber. It looked like an office, perhaps where Groff Haugg conducted his less-than-legitimate business dealings. If Haugg had made recent calls or had any digital correspondence, it might provide a clue to move forward.
Jango entered the room, which bore the marks of a typical underworld boss's office – luxurious yet ostentatious. As he surveyed the area, he reached out to Roz on his comm.
"Roz, do you copy?" Jango's voice was steady, betraying none of the frustration he felt.
"Jango! Did you find Groff Haugg?"
"Yeah, I found him alright," Jango replied as he began to sift through Haugg's comm channel. "Dead."
"Damn..." Roz sounded equally disheartened by the news. "So what now?"
Jango's fingers moved with practiced ease, scrolling through the channels. "Haugg couldn't have kept this whole operation secret without help," he mused, eyes scanning the data. "A politician, maybe."
"With all the corruption in the senate these days, I wouldn't be surprised," Roz responded, her voice tinged with cynicism.
Then, a particular transmission caught Jango's eye. He played the recording.
"Haugg, where are you? Is he after me, too? This is intolerable! I want out, you hear me? Out!" The voice was panicked, desperate.
Roz laughed over the comm. "Ha! I recognize that voice. Senator Connus Trell! I knew that slimeball was crooked."
Jango's mind was already racing with this new information. "Where is this senator?"
"A fancy apartment tower. It's in the upper city," Roz replied.
"I'll find it."
Jango was back on the hunt. The upper city awaited, and with it, a senator with answers.