Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Star Wars or any LucasFilms products. This is a Fanfiction made by a fan for fans.
Long ago, in a galaxy far, far away…
A Mandalorian Bounty Hunter named Marro Cass is on a job looking for a Twi'lek runaway who is running from the New Galactic Republic. The Twi'lek is a woman named Phyra and is a known smuggler and spy. Marro's intel leads him to her location on the planet of Naboo…
"You've got the wrong girl," Marro Cass murmured into the comlink, his voice a gravelly rumble that didn't quite match the sleek lines of his Mandalorian armor. His eyes darted around the dingy cantina, searching for the telltale signs of the fugitive he'd been tracking for weeks. The air had the smell of stale ales and desperation. Of a hundred different species, all steeped in desperation and secrets. The chatter of patrons and the clinking of glasses provided a steady rhythm to the scene, but it was the sudden silence that caught his attention.
A Twi'lek waitress, her lekku hanging low with the weight of her exhaustion, had frozen mid-step. Her eyes, large and dark, darted towards the back of the room where a shadowy figure slipped through the back of the cantina. Marro's instincts sharpened, and he knew that was his mark. Phyra, the infamous smuggler and spy, had led him on a wild chase across the Outer Rim, and now she was within his grasp, he wasn't missing his moment. He threw a credit to the barkeep, the metal disc spinning through the air before landing with a satisfying thud on the sticky counter.
Without a sound, Marro pushed off his stool and moved swiftly towards the back exit, his heavy boots barely making a whisper on the cantina's worn flooring. The air was thick with the scent of alien species and the faint metallic tang of blaster fire residue. The room blurred around him as he homed in on his quarry. Phyra was fast, but he was faster. Years of training as a bounty hunter had honed his reflexes to a fine edge.
The alley outside was a stark contrast to the garish lights of the cantina. Darkness enveloped the narrow passageways, the distant sounds of speeders and the hustle of the city's underbelly providing a muted backdrop to the chase. Phyra's form was just visible up ahead, a fleeting shadow against the alley's grimy walls. Marro's jetpack roared to life, and he leaped over a pile of discarded containers, closing the gap between them.
Her blue skin glistened with sweat in the dim moonlight as she darted into a side alley, her twin lekku whipping around like lashes in the wind. He could almost feel the electricity of the chase, the thrill of the pursuit, the dance of predator and prey. Marro's heart pounded in his chest, his breaths coming in short, controlled bursts through his helmet's respirator. His boots splashed in a puddle, sending ripples through the oily water, revealing the gleam of a discarded blaster cartridge. A clue she'd left behind, perhaps unknowingly, perhaps deliberately.
The alley grew narrower, the walls closing in like the jaws of a giant beast, trapping them in a maze of shadows and secrets. A flicker of movement to his left. He spun, his blaster drawn and ready. Nothing but the rustle of a garbage heap. Phyra was good, but he was better. The whispers of his ancestors filled his ears, guiding his hand, whispering of the battles won and the bounties claimed. He felt their pride, their anticipation.
Marro's boots splashed through a puddle, sending ripples that reflected the neon lights from the cantina's sign above. He heard the distant sound of a blaster fire, echoing through the alleyways like the bellow of a dying animal. His heart skipped a beat. Was it a trap? Phyra had friends in low places, and she wasn't above leading him into an ambush. He paused, scanning the area, his eyes picking out every detail in the gloom. A glimmer of metal caught his eye, a ladder leading up to the rooftops.
He scaled the ladder with the agility of a seasoned warrior, his jetpack humming quietly in case he needed to make a hasty retreat. The rooftops of Naboo were a labyrinth of tiles and pipes, a playground for those who knew how to navigate them. Marro moved swiftly, his eyes peeled for any sign of movement. The air was thick with the scent of rain, and the distant sound of thunder promised a storm was on its way. Above, the stars were obscured by the city's artificial lights, but he could feel the vastness of the galaxy stretching out before him, a silent witness to the hunt below.
Phyra's footprints led to the edge of the roof, where a series of pipes and narrow walkways criss-crossed over the alley. He approached cautiously, his blaster held at the ready. The pipes groaned under his weight, and he knew she heard him coming. He took a deep breath and leaped, his jetpack roaring as he soared over the gap. He landed with a thud on the opposite side, his boots crunching on the gritty surface. The chase was on again, the rhythm of their steps echoing through the night like a drumbeat of fate.
Marro followed the trail of disturbed moss and dust across the rooftops, his heart racing with every step. The rain began to fall, a soft patter that grew into a steady drumroll, making the footing treacherous. He could see Phyra's silhouette ahead, weaving through the obstacles with an uncanny grace that spoke of her Twi'lek heritage. She was fast, and the weight of his armor and his heavy weaponry slowed him down. He had to be smart about this.
He approached the next leap with calculated precision, timing it just right to avoid the slick spots. As he took off, he heard the unmistakable sound of a blaster charging up. The world slowed down as he soared through the air, his eyes locked on the spot where he knew the shot would come from. A rooftop door slammed open, and a bolt of energy shot past his head, narrowly missing him. He landed in a crouch, adrenaline pumping through his veins like fire.
Phyra emerged from the shadows, her own blaster held steady. Her eyes were cold and determined, the rain beading on her blue skin like droplets of ice. "You're good, Cass," she called out, her voice carrying over the din of the storm. "But not good enough."
Marro didn't bother to respond. He knew the rules of this game, talking was for those who didn't have the upper hand. He took a moment to assess the situation, the rain now coming down in sheets, obscuring his vision and making the rooftops slick. He had to move fast before she had the chance to disappear again.
He charged forward, his jetpack giving him an extra burst of speed. Phyra was ready for him, her blaster firing a series of shots that he dodged with a fluid grace that belied his heavy armor. The rooftops turned into a battleground, a dance of death played out in the rhythm of the storm. Each step was carefully calculated, each movement a silent promise of the hunt's end.
Phyra felt her disadvantage growing as the Mandalorian bounty hunter roared close and she hopped off the rooftop and slid down to a lower one.
Marro felt the wind against his faceplate as he slid down a steep slope, the rain stinging his eyes. Phyra was there, waiting at the bottom, her weapon poised. He could see the determination in her stance. She was not going to go quietly. As he closed the distance, she threw a metal crate at him. He sliced it in half with his vibroblade, the pieces clattering to the ground as he landed.
Their blasters sang in the night, the lights flashing and casting eerie shadows on the wet rooftops. Each shot was a declaration of intent, a promise of a swift end to the chase. They circled each other, a deadly ballet played out under the unforgiving eyes of the storm-tossed sky. Marro knew he had to end this soon; the longer it went on, the higher the chance of someone getting hurt or worse.
He feigned a step to the left, and when Phyra reacted, he lunged to the right, closing the gap between them. She was quick, her lekku flailing as she ducked and rolled away from his grasp. They were both soaked now, the rain plastering their clothes to their bodies, making every movement more difficult. Marro's heart hammered in his chest, the adrenaline a potent cocktail that kept him sharp.
Phyra's blaster whined, and a shot sizzled past his ear. He spun and returned fire. The bolt glanced off her hidden torso armor, sending sparks flying. She smirked, a flash of white in the gloom, and leaped onto a nearby pipe, using her momentum to swing over another gap. He followed, his boots skidding on the wet tiles.
Marro's jetpack roared as he shot after her, closing the distance again. She was slippery, like a fish in water, but he had her now. He could almost taste the victory, the sweet, metallic tang of it on his tongue; but Phyra had one more trick up her sleeve. As he approached, she hurled a handful of small, round objects into the air. They exploded into a cloud of smoke, obscuring everything.
Marro's helmet's sensors flickered as they attempted to filter out the smoke, but it was too dense. He stumbled, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The sounds of the city were muffled, replaced by the hiss of the rain and the frantic beating of his heart. He knew he couldn't let her escape. The New Galactic Republic had offered a hefty bounty for her capture, and he needed the credits to keep his ship in the air.
He activated the thermal imaging in his helmet, the world around him transforming into a sea of heat signatures. The brightest one was hers, moving swiftly across the rooftops. He took off after her, his boots skidding on the wet tiles. The smoke began to clear, and he saw her darting across a narrow walkway, her stark silhouette against the backdrop of the city. He took a deep breath and leaped, his jetpack carrying him over the gap with ease.
The chase continued, the two of them weaving through the rooftop maze like ghosts in the night. Phyra's agility was unmatched, but Marro's instincts and training kept him on her tail. The rain was relentless, soaking through his armor and chilling his skin, but he ignored the discomfort. The thrill of the hunt was all that mattered now.
As they approached the edge of the city, the buildings grew shorter, and the rooftops gave way to a vast, open space. Above them, the sky was a tumult of dark clouds, lightning forking through the heavens like the fingers of an angry god. Phyra's heat signature grew fainter, and Marro knew she was tiring. He pushed himself harder, his jetpack straining to keep up with his relentless pursuit.
Phyra jolted down a nearby pipeline down to the ground level, with the metal groaning from her weight. Upon reaching the wet ground, she sprinted to a nearby alleyway.
Marro, ever the persistent predator, didn't falter in his pursuit. The ground below grew closer, and the wind screamed in his ears as he dove towards the ground. He landed on the wet ground, his boots splashing in a puddle, and caught a glimpse of her disappearing into the shadows of an alley. The chase had brought them to the outskirts of the city, where the gleaming spires of the wealthy gave way to the gritty reality of the lower levels.
Marro sprinted after her, his heavy armor clanking against the wet cobblestones. The alley was a tight squeeze, lined with ancient brick buildings that leans inward as if conspiring to keep their secrets. The rain had turned the path into a river of mud and filth, and the smell of decay was thick in the air. He knew this part of Naboo well; it was where the forgotten dwelt, and where the desperate sought refuge.
Phyra's footsteps grew fainter, but he could still feel her presence, a palpable energy that sang in his blood. He turned a corner and saw her, a vibrant splash of blue in the dull landscape. She was climbing down a rusty ladder that led to a gated drainage tunnel, the water below rushing with the storm's fury. Without hesitation, he followed, his jetpack providing a gentle boost to clear the gap.
The tunnel was narrow and claustrophobic, the air thick with the stench of decay. His boots clanked against the metal rungs, the echoes bouncing off the wet walls. Phyra was below, her movements swift and sure, a creature of the shadows slipping away from the light. He climbed faster, his breathing a steady rhythm that matched the pounding in his chest.
Marro emerged into the tunnel, the rainwater cascading around him in a torrent. The walls were slick with moss and slime, and the water was up to his knees. He could see her silhouette in the distance, a beacon of blue in the gloom. He waded through the current, his boots slipping on the treacherous surface. Every step was a battle against the flow, each movement calculated to keep him upright.
The storm had reached its crescendo, the thunder a constant, deafening roar that seemed to shake the very fabric of the planet. The lightning cast a strobe-like effect, illuminating the tunnel in stark, jagged flashes. Phyra was moving fast, her figure flickering in and out of sight as she darted through the shadows. Marro's instincts told him she was tiring, that she was close to the end of her rope. He pushed harder, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
The water grew deeper, the current stronger, but he didn't slow. He could feel the cold seeping into his bones, the weight of his armor threatening to pull him under. But he was a Mandalorian, born and bred for this kind of relentless pursuit. He trudged on, the water now up to his chest, his eyes never leaving Phyra's retreating back. The tunnel grew narrower, the water now a torrent that threatened to sweep them both away.
Above, the gate rattled as something large approached. Marro's instincts screamed danger, and he looked up just in time to see a shadow pass over the opening. A massive beast, something from a nightmare, had caught their scent and was now blocking their way out. Phyra must have heard it too because she looked back, her eyes wide with fear. For a brief moment, the hunted and the hunter shared a silent understanding.
The beast roared, the sound reverberating through the tunnel, and the water around them churned with the vibration. Marro's jetpack sputtered to life again, and he pushed himself against the current, moving closer to Phyra. "We need to work together if we're getting out of here," he shouted over the din.
Phyra's gaze flickered from the gate to Marro, and then she nodded, a begrudging respect in her eyes. They swam against the flow, fighting the water's relentless pull, their movements synchronized by the shared instinct for survival. The beast's snarls grew louder, and the gate began to buckle under its weight.
Marro reached for a protruding pipe, his gauntleted hand wrapping around it tightly. He could feel the metal groan under the strain as he used it to anchor himself. The water was now a river, threatening to sweep them both away. Phyra grabbed onto his arm, her grip surprisingly strong for someone so lithe. Together, they held their ground, the water rushing around them like a tempest.
The gate above them bent and groaned under the weight of the beast, its snarls reverberating through the narrow space. The creature was massive, a creature of the swamp lands that had somehow found its way into the city's bowels. Its eyes gleamed with hunger, and Marro knew that if it got through, there would be no escape.
He turned to Phyra, his expression unreadable behind the helmet. "We need to distract it," he yelled over the roar of the water. "Can you find a way up?"
Phyra nodded, her lekku flapping in the torrent. She pointed to a series of rungs embedded in the wall, leading to a maintenance hatch. "I'll go first. You cover me."
Marro nodded back, his eyes never leaving the gate. He held his blaster at the ready, waiting for the right moment. Phyra began to climb, her agility and strength surprising him. As she ascended, the beast above them grew more frenzied, its snarls echoing through the tunnel. The gate bent further, the metal screeching in protest.
The moment Phyra was clear, Marro fired a series of shots into the creature's eyes, blinding it temporarily. It roared in pain and anger, thrashing its massive limbs about, sending water and debris flying. The gate held for a moment, then with a final, deafening screech, it gave way. The beast plunged into the tunnel, the force of its fall sending a tidal wave of water towards them.
Marro braced himself, the icy water slamming into his chest and knocking the wind out of him. He held onto the pipe with everything he had, his armor weighing him down like a leaden cloak. Phyra had almost reached the hatch, her lekku plastered to her face as she gasped for air. The creature's head broke the surface, its jaws snapping in their direction.
With a roar of defiance, Marro released his grip and allowed the current to take him. He activated his jetpack, aiming for the beast's gaping maw. The force of his impact sent the creature reeling, giving Phyra enough time to climb the last few rungs and pull herself through the hatch. She rolled onto the maintenance platform, panting, and turned to help him.
The water continued to rise, the beast's thrashing sending waves crashing against the walls. Marro's jetpack sputtered and coughed, water and mud clogging the intakes. He knew he had to act fast. The creature was blind, but not for long. He could feel its fury as it slammed against the metal pipes, desperate to reach them.
Marro's hand shot out, grabbing the bottom rung of the ladder just as the water reached his chin. With a grunt, he began to climb, the weight of his sodden armor feeling like it would pull him back down into the abyss. Each rung was a battle, his muscles screaming with the effort. The water rushed around him, the beast's roars growing fainter as the gap between them widened.
As he climbed, the maintenance hatch just below his feet slammed shut with a metallic thud, cutting off the chaos below. Rainwater cascaded around the edges, and he could feel the beast's frenzied efforts to break through, the vibrations resonating through the metal.
With a final surge of strength, Marro hauled himself through the hatch with Phyra's help, his armor scraping against the metal. They both collapsed onto the grimy platform, panting heavily. The beast's roars grew distant as the water level dropped, retreating back into the tunnel.
They lay there for a moment, the rain outside a soothing contrast to the chaos they had just escaped. Phyra rolled onto her back, her chest heaving, her eyes never leaving Marro's. "You didn't have to save me," she murmured, the tension in her voice palpable.
Marro pushed himself to his feet, his armor heavy with water. "The job's not done," he said, his voice a low growl. "But we've got a bigger problem now." He gestured to the hatch. The beast's roars had become muffled, but the pounding on the metal grew more insistent. They were trapped, and the creature wasn't giving up its prey easily.
Phyra climbed to her feet, her gaze flicking to the hatch. "What now?" Marro assessed the situation, his mind racing. "We need to find another way out. This platform must lead somewhere."
They sprinted along the narrow walkway, their boots echoing in the vast, open space. The storm raged on, casting wild shadows across the walls. The rainwater had formed a small river beneath them, rushing back into the city's bowels.
Marro's helmet's sensors flickered back to life, displaying a map of the area. There was a service elevator not too far ahead, but the creature was gaining on them, its roars growing louder with every passing second. Phyra's breath was ragged, her movements not as fluid as before. She was weakening.
They rounded a corner, and the elevator loomed in the distance. It was a race against time, and the beast was winning. "Hurry," Marro barked, his voice a mix of urgency and concern. Phyra's legs trembled as she sprinted, but she didn't slow down. They were almost there.
The elevator's doors were rusted shut, but a control panel nearby offered a glimmer of hope. Phyra's nimble fingers danced over the controls, her knowledge of slicing systems apparent. The doors groaned open, revealing a dark, empty shaft. Without a second thought, they dashed inside, the creature's snarls echoing in the chamber.
Marro slammed his fist into the "Up" button, and the doors clanked shut just as the beast's claws scraped against the metal. The elevator jolted to life, ascending with a jerky motion that spoke of neglect and disuse. They could hear the creature's enraged howls fading into the depths below, replaced by the steady ding of the elevator's progress.
The shaft was a cage of shadows, the only light coming from the small emergency bulb flickering above. The air was thick with the scent of oil and rust, a stark contrast to the freshness of the rain outside. Phyra leaned against the back wall, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. The tension between them was palpable, a mix of fear and exhaustion.
Marro kept his blaster at the ready, his eyes scanning the walls for any sign of weakness. The elevator's ascent was painfully slow, each moment stretching into an eternity. The creature's howls grew fainter, but the thought of it lurking below, waiting for them to return, was enough to keep the adrenaline pumping through his veins.
As the elevator climbed, the sound of the storm grew clearer. The rain pattered against the metal walls, a rhythmic reminder of the chaos they had left behind. Phyra watched him, her eyes calculating. "Why are you after me?" she asked, her voice low and steady despite her earlier struggle.
Marro's grip on his blaster tightened. "You're a fugitive. The New Republic has a price on your head."
Phyra pressed, curiosity seeping into her voice. "What's in it for you to capture little me?"
Marro's gaze didn't waver from the elevator doors. "The credits. And maybe a little bit of the thrill," he admitted with a shrug. "But mostly, I don't like leaving loose ends."
Phyra's expression was unreadable, but he could feel her eyes on him, sizing him up. "You're not just a bounty hunter," she said, her voice holding a hint of accusation.
Marro didn't bother to correct her. They had more pressing concerns. "We're not out of this yet," he said, his voice echoing in the cramped space.
The elevator jerked to a halt, the sudden stillness disconcerting. Marro stepped out first, blaster raised, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. They had emerged in an abandoned alley, the buildings above them groaning in the storm's embrace. The rain had eased to a drizzle, leaving the air thick with the scent of wet earth and metal.
Phyra followed, her blaster held low but still ready. She scanned the alley, her lekku twitching as she listened for any signs of danger. "We need to find cover," she murmured, her eyes darting around. "This area is infamous for the gangsters and pirates and they're not going to be far behind."
Marro nodded in agreement, knowing that after the empire fell and Operation Cinder came to Naboo, the New Republic wasn't yet able to handle all the newly formed chaos on every planet. "This way," he said, pointing towards a narrow gap between two buildings. "It'll be tight, but it'll keep us off the main streets."
They moved quickly, their boots splashing in the puddles that had formed in the alley. The rain had washed away any tracks they might have left, but it also made the footing treacherous. The wind picked up, sending trash skittering across their path, plastering wet paper against their legs. The storm had transformed Naboo's beauty into a stark, unforgiving landscape.
Marro's helmet's sensors beeped, and he held up a hand, signaling for Phyra to stop. "Assassin Droids," he murmured, his voice low and tight.
Phyra nodded, her eyes narrowing as she listened to the distant whir of mechanical movement. "We need to move," she said, her voice urgent. "They're getting closer."
Marro studied the alley, his mind racing. The buildings above them were leaning inward, the gap between them barely wide enough for a single person to slip through. "Up," he said, pointing to a set of ancient-looking drain pipes that zig-zagged up the side of a particularly decrepit structure. "We can lose them on the rooftops."
Without waiting for a response, he began his ascent, the pipes groaning ominously under his weight. Phyra followed closely, her own agility surprising him as she scaled the wall with ease. They reached the rooftop just as the assassin droids rounded the corner below, their searchlights cutting through the murky night.
The rain had turned the rooftops into a slick obstacle course of tiles and debris. Marro's heart raced as he navigated the treacherous terrain, his armor's weight suddenly a liability. Phyra moved with the grace of a predator, her movements fluid and precise despite her exhaustion. They leaped and slid across the wet surfaces, their boots leaving trails of water behind them.
Marro's sensors flickered with the droids' locations, their red blips closing in. He knew they had to stay ahead. The storm had become a double-edged sword; while it masked their escape, it also played havoc with his sensors. He could feel the cold seeping into his bones, the chill a stark reminder of their precarious situation.
They reached the edge of the rooftop, and Marro spotted a speeder bike parked haphazardly in the alley below. Without a word, he leaped down, his jetpack cushioning the impact. Phyra followed, landing lightly beside him. He quickly sliced through the ignition, the engine roaring to life with a whine that pierced the storm's cacophony.
Marro straddled the speeder, his armor's weight making it dip slightly. "Get on," he barked, gesturing to the back. Phyra complied, wrapping her arms around his waist. The speeder shot forward, narrowly missing the alley's edge as they sped into the night.
The wind whipped around them, the rain stinging their skin as they weaved through the city's backstreets. Marro's grip on the speeder's controls was tight, his eyes focused on the path ahead. Phyra's breath was warm against his back, and despite their situation, he couldn't ignore the fact that she was surprisingly comfortable to have so close.
The speeder's engines roared as they hit the main thoroughfare, the streets a blur of lights and shadow. "Where to?" he shouted over the wind. "The spaceport," Phyra yelled back, her voice barely audible over the engine's whine. "I've got a ship waiting."
Marro nodded and steered the speeder towards the distant lights of the spaceport. The city of Naboo stretched out before them, a tapestry of light and shadow that seemed to pulse with the storm's fury. The speeder skimmed over the wet streets, sending up plumes of spray as they raced through the deserted cityscape.
As they approached the spaceport's perimeter, the rain began to let up, the thunder receding into the distance. The air grew colder, hinting at the storm's retreat. The space above was a tumult of clouds, parting occasionally to reveal the star-studded sky. The spaceport loomed ahead, a sprawling complex of docking bays and towering control towers.
Marro felt the speeder's engines strain as they picked up speed, the wind now a constant roar in their ears. His sensors flickered with warnings, but he ignored them, focusing solely on the destination.
They approached the spaceport's entrance, the massive gates looking like the jaws of a sleeping beast. Phyra leaned forward, her breath hot on Marro's neck. "Through the maintenance tunnels," she shouted, pointing to a narrow opening in the fence line. "It's the only way in without being seen."
Marro nodded, his grip tightening on the speeder's controls. He angled the bike towards the gap, the ground beneath them a blur. The tunnel was dark, the only light coming from the speeder's dim headlamp. The walls closed in around them, the air thick with the scent of oil and grease.
The tunnel was a twisting maze, the speeder's engine echoing off the metal surfaces. Phyra's arms tightened around his waist, her lekku fluttering in the wind. "Second left, then straight," she instructed, her voice taut with tension.
Marro followed her directions, the speeder's lights reflecting off the slick ground. The maintenance tunnels were a labyrinth of pipes and machinery, the heart of Naboo's bustling spaceport hidden from the prying eyes of the Republic. The air grew colder, the hum of the engines and the storm's fury muffled by the thick metal walls.
They rounded a corner, and the speeder's light illuminated a group of figures huddled in the shadows. Marro's hand tightened on the throttle, ready for a fight, but Phyra's voice was calm in his ear. "Friends," she assured him. "They're part of the network."
The figures stepped into the light, revealing a ragtag group of beings; a Rodian, a Weequay, and a Twi'lek with a blaster scar across his cheek. Phyra called out a greeting in a language Marro didn't recognize, and the group waved them over. The Twi'lek nodded at Phyra with respect, then gestured to the speeder.
Marro brought the speeder to a skidding halt, and Phyra slid off gracefully. She spoke quickly to the group, her words a mix of Huttese and Basic. They responded with nods and hushed tones, and the Rodian began to uncover a hidden panel in the wall. The Weequay kept watch, his blaster at the ready.
The hidden panel revealed a narrow, dimly lit staircase that spiraled upwards. Phyra took the lead, her boots echoing on the metal steps. Marro followed closely, his blaster drawn and his eyes scanning the shadows. They ascended for what felt like an eternity, the air growing thinner and the sound of their breathing more pronounced.
Finally, they emerged into a small, cluttered room that smelled faintly of engine grease and fear. Phyra immediately moved to a console, her hands flying over the controls with a practiced ease. "This will take us to the docking bay where my ship is," she said, her eyes never leaving the screen.
Marro took up a defensive position, his blaster still at the ready. The room was filled with the quiet hum of machinery, the occasional clank and hiss punctuating the silence. He could feel the tension in the air, the anticipation of a final confrontation.
The console beeped, and a holographic map of the spaceport flickered to life. Phyra's nimble fingers traced a path through the maze of corridors and docking bays. "This way," she said, her voice low and determined.
Marro fell into step behind her, his senses on high alert. The storm outside had subsided, but the calm was deceptive. The spaceport was a hive of activity, with ships coming and going despite the inclement weather. They had to move quickly and stay hidden.
They sprinted through the narrow corridors, dodging maintenance droids and ducking behind crates. The air was thick with the scent of oil and the distant whine of engines. Phyra's network had provided them with a disguise, but it wouldn't hold up under close scrutiny. Every second counted.
Marro's heart hammered in his chest, his eyes scanning for any signs of trouble. The spaceport was a sprawling beast, full of nooks and crannies that could hide a hundred fugitives. Yet, the Republic's presence wasn't entirely presentable. The gleaming white of their uniforms stood out against the grime, their footsteps echoing ominously through the halls.
They reached the docking bay, the air thick with the smell of ozone and the promise of escape. Phyra's ship, a sleek yt-2400 light freighter, was nestled among other vessels, its engines idling. The ramp was down, casting a warm glow into the cold, metal space. The Twi'lek's crew members, a motley assortment of beings, nodded in greeting, their eyes flicking to Marro's armor before quickly looking away.
"Get in," Phyra urged, her voice tight with urgency. Marro didn't need to be told twice. He sprinted up the ramp, his boots echoing on the metal grating. The ship's interior was cramped but functional, the walls lined with crates and tech. The crew moved with an efficiency that spoke of countless successful escapes, their eyes on the prize.
The ramp closed with a hiss, sealing them in. Phyra dashed to the cockpit, her movements swift and precise. The ship lurched to life, the engines roaring in response to her touch. The controls were a blur under her hands as she navigated the labyrinth of docking clamps and service vehicles.
Marro walked to the cockpit, the sound of his boots echoing through the empty corridor. Phyra sat in the pilot's seat, her eyes locked on the viewscreen as they approached the hangar's exit. "So, bounty hunter," Phyra's head turned slightly to the Mandalorian. "Is this the time you apprehend me?"
Marro sat on the seat next to her, "You're a fugitive. It's my job to do so." "Even if the bounty is innocent?" Phyra shot back. "The New Republic records deemed you for multiple crimes." "False crimes, Cass." She interrupted. "Made by my father." Marro narrowed his attention. She fixed her seating position as the ship passed the hangar's exit.
"My father is a very proud man," she continued. "He has hands on many legal and illegal resources in the criminal underworld. But having a position in the New Republic as a senator, his history would've been discovered quickly. So he needed a scapegoat, one to take the fall for him. Proving his sick cruelty, he framed all his crimes onto me and the New Republic swarmed like rancors. They imprisoned me without bail and word in the cells was that the new senator had loose ends that he would purge out within the cells."
Marro turned his head out to the windshield, "It appears that nothing really changed past the empire."
Phyra started elevating the freighter to the sky, "If it wasn't for a riot in the prison yard that caused chaos, I wouldn't have found a way out. I escaped along with a few others and decided to spend the rest of my days making my father pay for what he's done to me."
Marro turned to her, "Snuggling and Spy work, you're targeting his turfs?" She nodded, "The bounty is from him; dead or alive. It won't matter, you kill me or he does when you return me there, I'm as good as dead."
The tension in the cockpit was palpable, the silence between them a living, breathing entity. It was a moment of understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the bond forged in the crucible of danger and deception. They had survived the storm, the creature, and the Republic's clutches, but their paths now diverged.
Marro pulled a datacard from his pocket and slammed it into the console. "Here," he said, his voice gruff. "This will give you a head start. But after that, you're on your own."
Phyra took the card, her eyes scanning the encrypted information. "Thanks," she said, her voice soft. "But what is this?"
"Forged Identification Card," Marro responded. Her eyes sharpened, "Why?" "Let's just say that I understand the need for retribution," he crossed his arms together. "The galaxy is unforgiving to many."
She smiled slightly as she stored the card in one of her pockets, "And what's the trade for such an item?" "Proof of your death so I can still claim the bounty," Marro responded.
Phyra looked through the empty space of the cockpit for a moment before pulling off a necklace from an upper shelf. She then pulled her knife off her belt and cut a small line on her palm. She placed the necklace on her open wound and gripped the necklace tightly in her hand. When she released her grip, the necklace was mildly coated with her blood.
She hands the necklace to Marro, "The necklace is one of my mother's. He'll know what it is. The blood will confirm bloodshed and will be proof of my sample."
Marro nodded as he took the necklace, "That's good enough. But that means that you must disappear from the galaxy. You have to lay low from now on."
They landed in a secluded area outside the city, the ship's engines whining as they powered down. Phyra had picked the spot well; it was obscured from any prying eyes.
Phyra's eyes danced over the controls, a fierce determination in her gaze. "Take off your helmet," she said, her voice softer than he had heard it before. "Let me see the face of the man who didn't kill me."
Marro hesitated, his hand hovering over the release mechanism. It was a rare moment of vulnerability for a Mandalorian, but he felt the truth of her words. With a sigh, he complied, the cold air of the cockpit caressing his features. Phyra's smile grew, a genuine warmth in her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered.
Marro said, his voice a low growl, "I respect your skills. And I'll honor our agreement." He promptly conceals his face again under his helmet.
Phyra nodded, her lekku fluttering with the gravity of the situation. "I know," she said, her eyes earnest. "I'll lay low. Maybe even leave the smuggling behind." Marro's gaze was sharp. "You'd better," he said, his voice a low rumble. "The galaxy's a big place, but it's smaller than you think."
Phyra nodded solemnly. "I'll be careful," she promised. "And if I need you, I'll find you." Marro grunted. "Alright," he said, his eyes scanning the horizon. "But don't make it a habit." Phyra smirked, a hint of mischief in her eyes, "Don't worry bounty hunter, I'm a sly girl."
Marro's visor masked his expression, but she could feel his skepticism. "We'll see," he said, his voice a gruff rumble.
The ship's engines powered up again, the ramp opening with a hiss as the freighter lifted off. Phyra's crew, a band of misfits who had seen too much and lived to tell the tale, nodded in silent understanding. They had their orders.
Without another word, Marro turned and walked down the ramp, the ship's engines a mournful whine in his ears. The rain had stopped, leaving the night air cool and fresh. He watched as the ship lifted off, the roar of its engines fading into the night. The ground beneath his boots trembled with the force of its departure, a silent reminder of the explosive end to their chase.
Marro made his way back to the city, his thoughts a jumble of doubt and satisfaction. He'll get the credits, the bounty will be lifted, but the bond he had formed with Phyra was an unexpected twist. He had seen the fear in her eyes, the desperation in her voice. It was not the first time he had felt such things, but it was the first time he had chosen to act on them.
The city lights had grown brighter as he approached, the sounds of life echoing through the streets. His boots clicked on the pavement, the rhythm of his steps a solemn march. He had made a name for himself as a bounty hunter, a merciless tracker, but this job had left him feeling something new: empathy.
Marro knew the price of freedom all too well. It was a commodity that could not be bought, only earned through blood and sacrifice. He had seen it in Phyra's eyes, the desperation of a creature backed into a corner. And for a brief moment, he had chosen to stand beside her, not as a hunter, but as an ally.
The city of Naboo grew closer with each step he took, the neon lights casting a garish glow on the wet streets. His armor was a silent sentinel, a testament to his past and a shield against the future. He had done what was necessary, and now he has his next job to fulfill. In a Mandalorian's life, peace is a sin…