10 ATC, Month 9, Hutta

The shuttle approaching Hutta had been built with windows to let its passengers view outside. As such, Valajin was able to get a clear view of Nar Shaddaa as the ship passed by it. The jewel of Hutt Space, supposedly anything could be bought or sold on that moon. Spice, exotic weapons, medicine, secrets, people, the list went on. But glamorous as it looked, it wasn't what he had come to this part of space for, and so he looked away from it to the rest of the shuttle's passengers.

Most of them were human and dressed in rags, which wasn't surprising. If you were coming to the homeworld of the Hutts on something other than your own ship, it wasn't for pleasure. The only one that stood out even slightly was a smaller pale-skinned woman with black hair near the back, and even then only because of the cybernetics on her left brow and right jaw. As if she had sensed his gaze, the woman stiffened and looked back. Brown eyes met his gray ones, and she gave him a raised eyebrow with a curious expression.

Valajin just smirked–which the dark circles around his eyes and scar running over his right eye only made appear less friendly–and gave her a wave. Then the ship shuddered as it entered Hutta's atmosphere, and he returned his attention to the window.

He had heard that the Hutts living here had polluted the planet until it was nearly uninhabitable, and it showed. The air was hazy and added a pale yellow shade to almost everything. The only things that stuck out were the bright lights of various buildings and scattered tall trees that were managing to survive somehow. Despite the poor visibility, whoever was piloting the shuttle had enough experience to avoid hitting anything as they descended further.

The voice of a 'female' protocol droid came overhead, saying "Arrivals to Hutta, we will be landing at Jiguuna Spaceport momentarily. Please prepare to disembark." The dozen or so people besides him began fussing about, including the black-haired woman from before. Valajin remained reclining in his seat, though he did glance down to his side where his blaster was hanging from his right hip. This was going to be his first time dealing with Hutts, and he wanted to be prepared.

A cluster of lights that he assumed was Jiguuna grew larger as they reached ground level. With less smog to see through, the town was also becoming clearer... Were those blasters bolts he could see here and there? His view of whatever was making them was cut off as the shuttle landed in the hangar, the exit doors sliding open with a hiss a moment later. Seated as he was near the front, Valajin was one of the first to get off, though he had to duck his head to avoid smacking into the top of the exit.

The first thing Valajin did on Hutta was wrinkle his nose. The place didn't just look like a swamp, it smelled like one, too. "Man, this place reeks," he thought aloud, before shaking his head and resuming his walk.

The spaceport was buzzing with activity. A mouse droid had to swerve around him to avoid getting kicked, and he eyed some sort of humanoid lizard openly passing a handful of credits to a human with a rifle, getting a datapad in return. Two beefy aliens with flat faces, four tusks each and heavy armor with some sort of logo were harassing someone with golden eyes on stalks and a beak while another alien with goggles and a trunk leaned against a wall and watched.

The beaked one had its hands raised and looked scared out of their wits as one of the tusked aliens grunted something at them. As Valajin passed by and both of the of the big ones glanced at him–between his pale skin and size, he was used to getting looks–that scared expression faded as they pulled out a blaster pistol and shot one of them in the stomach. That one let out a loud squeal and bent over, distracting the other as the beaked guy made a run for it.

They didn't get very far. Quick as a whip, Valajin upholstered his pistol and fired an orange bolt of plasma. It stuck them in the leg, not a lethal hit but enough to keep them from running. As the beaked alien fell over with a surprised shot of pain, the two tusked ones rushed past and picked him up.

The one who had gotten shot–it looked like their armor had absorbed most of it–started driving their fist into their shooter's stomach over and over while the other one looked back at him. In bits of broken Basic, they said "Thank you. Here. Go away," before tossing a small credit stick at him.

Valajin reached up and caught it with his free hand, giving them a silent nod. The tusked alien nodded back before turning to their friend. He had finished beating their other 'friend' into unconsciousness, and now had them slung over one shoulder. The two of them began walking in the direction of the spaceport exit, and Valajin made sure to keep a distance as he left as well.

The entire time, he noticed that the alien with the trunk and goggles had continued watching without moving a centimeter.

Once he was outside, Valajin ignored the stall offering speeder rentals and started walking. The streets were just as filthy as the air, making him more thankful for his boots than ever. The blaster fire he had seen before wasn't visible now, but he could still distantly hear it. That probably explained why most of the other people were taking the speeders, not to mention the less time they had to spend outside.

Going north once he hit the first fork in the road soon put him in sight of a building with a glowing sign showing an akk dog. Beneath that were the words 'The Poison Pit,' making him smirk. Of course they'd put the local cantina within five minutes of the port, and of course Braden wanted to meet him there.

Another of those tusked aliens–did the Hutts just like hiring them?–stood just outside the entrance with their arms crossed. However, they let him through with barely a glance and grunt. 'If they are supposed to be guards, they sure aren't good ones,' he thought. Or perhaps the Hutts expected everyone here to be able to defend themselves. Maybe even both. Despite the building's relatively small size, it still had nearly half a dozen private rooms that could be reserved. Hanging a right, left and then right through the halls brought him to the room where his contact was at, and a knock on the door had it slide open.

He ignored the private bar to his right and focused on the three people in front of him. To the right and seated at a table was one of the few species he recognized: the Nikto were tough fighters even on Rattatak, and they left an impression. This one was as big as him but much older, and was fiddling with a blaster before looking up as he entered. On the left was a short–to him, anyway–and thin human girl with black hair pulled back in a messy bun who had her back to him as she worked away at a terminal.

Between them, facing the door, was the man who had recruited him, Braden. He was also human, with fair wrinkled skin, dark eyes and no hair save for his eyebrows, dressed in light red armor with a gray metal chestplate and boots. Like every sensible person on Hutta, he was also carrying a blaster. No scars, however, or at least none that he could see, making Valajin fight not to raise an eyebrow. Even he didn't get off Rattatak without any blemishes; either this guy's scars were somewhere he couldn't see, or he didn't have any at all. And if it was the second option, that meant Braden was either a terrible hunter or an excellent one.

Whatever his skills, Braden grinned at the sight of the large, menacing Rattataki entering his suite. "So, the main event finally arrives," he says, before looking at the others. "Team, this is the man I told you about, the one that's gonna take us to glory," he said and held his hand out. "Nice to meet you in person, Valajin."

He smirked and grabbed the smaller hand with his own. Despite the size difference, however, Braden's grip was still firm in his. Being old hadn't made him soft, it seemed. Good. "Good to be here, Braden," he replied. "It's been a long time since I lost a fight."

"I'll say. Best shot I've seen, solid nerves, and tough as durasteel," Braden complimented. "Put all that together, and we'll make a fine hunter of you," he promised. Then he waved at the other two. "But enough flattering you; time to meet your team."

Valajin hummed. "'My team', huh?" he said, almost tasting the phrase. "I like the sound of that."

"Good, 'cause it's something you'll get used to. Winning the Great Hunt isn't something you do alone; even the best hunters have support," Braden told him, before turning to the girl at the terminal. She had turned around as they were speaking, letting him see her brown eyes and that she also had cybernetics. Unlike the girl on the shuttle, however, this girl's were only on the left and wrapped around her eye. "This is Mako, a little genius I picked up on Nar Shaddaa years ago. She provides tech support and intel."

Mako looked him up and down, completely unintimidated by him. "I hope you're as good as the old man says," she said neutrally.

Then Braden turned to the Nikto. "And the big bruiser here is Jory. He provides security, weapons and lifts the heavy stuff," he continued.

Although Jory greeted him in the Nikto language, the wonders of real-time translation let him understand it. "Greetings, Valajin. I am at your disposal. I look forward to you making us all incredibly rich and famous," he said.

Valajin looked from him to Mako. "Big guns, cute and smart girls…" he said, before looking at Braden. "And experience. I'm sold," he declared.

Braden chuckled, before his expression turned serious. "Now that the introductions are out of the way, let's get down to business," he said, walking over to sit at the table on the left of Jory. Mako sat on the other side, putting Valajin across from Jory. Once they were all seated, he leaned forward. "We're here because the Great Hunt has been called. Now, Mako happens to be the biggest fan of Hunt history between here and Geonosis, but even she doesn't know everything it entails."

Mako smiled, a bit of her excitement breaking through. "But I do know every hunter who became the Hunt's Grand Champion: Bloodworthy, Jew'la Nightbringer, the Wookie Huntmaster, the Defenestrator, even Mandalore the Vindicated," she counted off. "Every one of them went on to charge the highest prices for the greatest bounties. They were legends."

Valajin slowly nodded. The only one of those names he recognized was Mandalore, but he got the idea. "So how do we join this thing?" he asked.

She answered "The Great Hunt has two groups of contestants: Mandalorians and independent hunters. The independents are sponsored by wealthy crime-lords that hope to get some of their own glory by picking a winner. Since we don't have time to make you a Mandalorian, we need a sponsor."

Braden took over. "And the biggest crime-lord on Hutta is Nem'ro the Hutt. He runs this town, along with several labor camps, mines and factories scattered over the planet. I've got just enough pull with him to get you an introduction. But after that, it'll be up to you to get him to agree to be our sponsor."

He hummed. "And how do I convince a big-time gangster to sponsor a fresh-faced hunter with no… bounties to his name?" he said. He almost said 'kills', but what would have been a lie.

"That brings us to the first thing on our agenda. Before you even meet with Nem'ro, we need to build up your reputation, make him believe that you're someone worth his time," Braden said. "Mako, pull up all the local bounties. I want the most brutal, untouchable, craziest scum they've got," he told her.

"Coming right up," Mako said, pulling out a datapad and firing it up.

Braden then finished "And while you're out there, showing everyone what you can do, Mako will also be planting rumors about the things you've done offworld. Between that and killing someone local, Nem'ro will agree to meet with you."

Valajin gave Mako a look. Intel, looks, planting rumors… "What can this girl not do?" he asked.

Although she didn't look up from her datapad, Mako did smile at that. Braden did as well, replying "She can't handle a blaster like you can or take as many hits. Or we wouldn't need you, would we?"

He snorted. "I guess not," he admitted.

That was when Mako's datapad beeped, accompanied by her saying "Got it. Our bounty's a human named Vexx. Born on Corellia, champion quickdraw artist."

Valajin blinked. "...The heck is a quickdraw artist?" he remarked. Being faster with a gun wasn't about art, it was about having good reflexes and knowing when to pull.

"My guess? He gave himself the description," Mako said as she scrolled through the file. "But he has gotten away with robbing fifteen pay stations for the Imperial military."

Jory snorted, leaning back and shaking his head. "What kind of lunatic robs an Imperial pay station? That are much less suicidal places to steal money from."

"Whether they're a gloryhound or a genuine madman, Vexx still sounds dangerous. He's perfect," Braden said. "There any places he's seen often?"

"Yep, a safehouse in the bad part of town. That'll be fun to get to," Mako answered.

Valajin grimaced. "You mean the part with all the shooting?" he asked. "What's the story there, anyway?"

"Nem'ro's rival, Fa'athra the Hutt, took over that part of town, and they're doing everything they can to keep Nem'ro's thugs from taking it back. It's an open war between both gangs out there," Braden explained. "But it's still our best shot. Raid it for anything that could tell us where Vexx is, and make sure to stay alive."

At that, Valajin couldn't help but smirk. Staying alive was what he did best. "Excuse me while I go shoot up a safehouse," he told them.

"One other thing," Jory said, before standing and walking over to the bar. He then grabbed something behind it and began pulling. "No self-respecting hunter travels unarmored. This from all of us." He then finished pulling a large crate into view before flipping the lock off. "Go on, open it."

Curious, Valajin knelt in front of the crate, aware of the looks of anticipation on both Mako and Braden. As he flipped it open, he couldn't stop a gasp from escaping him. Inside was a set of heavy armor. The chest piece had gray armor plating over white cloth, with a large pauldron to cover his left shoulder. Both gauntlets had the same color scheme, though the left one also had several hand-sized rockets wrapped around the wrist. Both the leggings and boots were designed to cover as much as possible without inhibiting his movement, and the belt had a holster… on each side?

Just as he was looking at that, Braden added "And this is from me, personally."

Valajin looked up just in time to catch a second blaster pistol being tossed at him. Now his smirk was a full-blown grin. "Now this is what I'm talking about," he declared, already pulling out pieces of the armor to put on.

Making sure everything was on and fit well took a moment. But once he was ready, he placed one gun in each holster and gave his team a violent grin. "Time to give this stuff a field test," he said.

Braden snorted in amusement. "Good luck out there," he said, which Mako and Jory both echoed.

Once the meeting was adjourned, Valajin left the suite and started making for the main exit to the cantina. If the sight of a large and pale alien didn't get looks before, his spiffy new armor certainly did. Most of those looks were hesitant, as if they wanted to approach him but were afraid he'd hurt them. Just as well; talking to people with no spine didn't interest him.

As he passed by two people, he couldn't help but overhear the conversation they weren't trying to hide. "You got those supplies the boss asked for?" one of them, a female Nautolan, asked.

The other one, a scared-looking male human, shook his head. "Fa'athra's goons are putting holes in anything that so much as looks at them. I'm not going out there!" he protested.

However, the Nautolan didn't appear sympathetic. "This your first turf war? Do you want to get paid or not?' she asked.

"To keep breathing: that's what I want," he rebutted.

She let out a dry chuckle. "Breathing the air's just as likely to kill you as Fa'athra's boys," she said. "Now go buy a blaster, and I'll tell you the routes through town. Just don't let the boss here that you dodged work because of a few gangsters."

That was when Valajin walked away, turning the exchange over it his head. It seemed like it hardly mattered who you were or what you were doing. Unless you were a Hutt, this planet was terrible for everyone.

That thought was quickly interrupted, however, as one of the cantina's patrons was brave enough to speak up as he came close. "Hey, kid. You new to Hutta?" he asked.

Valajin stopped and looked at the speaker. He was a human man, fairly large but not that well built. And nearly as old as Jory. "Maybe. What's it matter to you?" he asked warily.

The stranger gave him a look over. "You certainly look new, but also tough. Name's Lew Brell; I figured you could use some advice about this place," he said. "To do well on Hutta, you gotta do just three things: Watch you back, learn how to please the people in charge, and get out as soon as you can."

Although he wasn't sure why this 'Lew' was being so forthcoming, he decided it wouldn't kill him to be courteous. "Don't worry, I don't plan on being here any longer than I have to," he promised. It was even true: once he was in the Great Hunt, he'd be leaving this ball of stink immediately.

Lew nodded. "Then you got a good head on you. I just hope you can leave once you're ready to," he replied. Then he looked down at his hands. "Unlike my brother," he added.

And there it was, the real reason he was being so nice. "What's wrong with your brother?" he asked.

As expected, Lew looked back up at him. "You heard about the gang war going on outside? The one between Nem'ro and Fa'athra?" he asked. When Valajin nodded, he continued "I used to work for Nem'ro. It was bloody and violent, enough for me to leave. But now my little brother Cam's joined up, right as this turf war's kicked off."

Valajin raised an eyebrow. "So you want me to… convince your brother to leave the gang?" he asked. Not the sort of job he expected, but he imagined he could 'convince' Lew's brother if he had to.

"Almost. The leader of Nem'ro's street gang, Rex Geer, is an old friend of mine. I was gonna ask him to get my brother out, but Fa'athra's gang has him and his men–including my brother–pinned down. I can't get through," Lew explained. "But if you can blast our way through and talk to Rex, I'd be… grateful."

As he said the last word, Lew patted his pocket. There was a faint clinking of credits from there, which made Valajin smile. He only spoke four languages: Basic, Rattataki, Credits and Violence. And Lew had just picked his favorite one. "You got yourself a deal," he agreed.

Now Lew smiled as well. "I'm glad to hear it. I'll get your reward ready for when I hear from Cam," he said thankfully.

Valajin gave him a nod before leaving the main room and exiting the cantina. Just like before, he had to instinctively pause and mentally push past the smell of the swamp and pollutants. Shaking his head, he resumed his pace. Unlike last time, however, he was now working towards the blaster fire instead of away from it.

It only took him walking three blocks to find a street that had been blocked by a barricade. Made from several crates stacked on top of each other, three of those porcine aliens–Gamorreans, Mako had called them–were kneeling behind it and shooting over it at a group of humans and Twi'leks. The moment one of them saw him, they aimed their rifle at him and gave him a suspicious glare. "Nem'ro?" it grunted in question.

"That's who I plan on working for," he answered, hand hovering over his blaster in case they started shooting at him. That was apparently the right answer, as they turned their back to him and resumed shooting over the barricade. So the ones on the other side were Fa'athra's, then.

Valajin grinned. It was finally time for some fun.

He surged forward and leaped over the barricade, ignoring the surprised squeals from the Gamorreans behind him. The other gangsters were likewise shocked but quickly began scrambling for cover, their blaster rifles at the ready.

"Take him down!" one of the humans shouted, panic lacing his voice.

Valajin wasted no time. Drawing his blasters in one fluid motion, he fired off a rapid series of shots, the orange bolts of plasma lighting up the hazy air around them. Two of the gangsters fell almost immediately, their bodies convulsing as the blaster bolts found their marks. The remaining three scattered, firing wildly in his direction.

His armor deflected a glancing shot, the energy dissipating harmlessly against the reinforced plating. He then rolled to the side, coming up on one knee to unleash another flurry of shots. A Twi'lek gangster crumpled to the ground, smoke rising from a fresh wound in their stomach. Ducking under one shot and weaving around another, he closed the distance between them and him.

The last two gangsters, a human and a Twi'lek, attempted to regroup. They backed towards each other, their blaster rifles raised in a desperate bid to bring him down. Valajin could see the fear in their eyes, their movements erratic and uncoordinated. He charged forward again and fired both pistols simultaneously, the bolts striking the human in the side and shoulder. He went down with a scream, his weapon clattering to the ground. The Twi'lek, now alone, hesitated for a fatal second.

That was all it took for Valajin to be upon him. He kicked the rifle out of the Twi'lek's hands, sending it skittering across the ground. In the same motion, he pressed one of his blasters to the gangster's chest and pulled the trigger. The Twi'lek staggered backward, his eyes wide with shock before he collapsed in a lifeless heap.

Breathing heavily but with a triumphant gleam in his eye, Valajin surveyed the scene. The five gangsters lay around him, their corpses still smoking slightly and weapons scattered. He holstered his blasters with a satisfied grunt and looked back to the Gamorreans, who were only now peaking over the barricade.

"Mind keeping this way clear for me?" he asked. Having to shoot his way through again on the way back would be annoying.

When one of the Gamorreans–the same one that had aimed at him before–gave him a slow nod, he pressed on. Mako had loaded the coordinates for Vexx's safehouse onto his datapad, and it said that he only had five more blocks to go.

Five separate gun fights later…

You'd think the gangsters would have learned not to mess with him after, say, the third encounter. Nope, every single one of them thought they were better than the others, that they could take him. Valajin had a lot of fun dispelling that notion, and Nem'ro's thugs were eager to secure any street, block or alley that he cleared out.

Once he reached the safehouse, Valajin didn't even bother with knocking before he went inside. And standing right in the hallway, facing the door, was a mohawked human he didn't recognize. They had just enough time to widen their eyes and reach for their blaster before he shot them in the neck, cutting off whatever shout they were about to make. The sound of the shot was enough to reach the other room, however, and he could hear two more people shouting as they shot to their feet and ran for the door.

This time, he didn't even bother with his pistol. Instead, he aimed his gauntlet at the door and fired a single rocket just as it opened. The two other pieces of muscle Vexx hired tried making it through the door at the same time, which meant they both got hit by the small, point-blank explosion. Other than a pair of screams that didn't make it outside the safehouse, they didn't make any sound as they were blasted back into the room.

Valajin stepped into the room and over their charred bodies, looking around for any sign of Vexx. There were some supplies scattered around, as well as a half-empty bottle on a table with a nice cloth… Wait. His eyes narrowed, and he stepped closer. Something was tucked underneath the tablecloth and behind the bottle. Pulling the cloth off revealed it to be a datapad, making him smile. "What do we have here…?" he said, picking it up and powering it on.

That smile immediately died once he realized something: this thing was encrypted. Fortunately, he had a tech specialist that could probably crack it. Putting that pad in his pocket next to his other one, he stepped back outside.

Rex's last known location was conveniently right down the street from the safehouse, so reaching it didn't take long. Once he was inside, Valajin noticed the two most distinct things in the room: the pale-skinned human with dark hair, and the large cage with several people in it. And one of those people was a younger man–practically a teenager–with dark skin and a face similar to Lew's. Oh, what now?

The pale human crossed his arms at his entrance. "You've got some skill to break through Fa'athra's line. Should I know you?" he asked warily.

"If you did, I'd be surprised. Are you Rex?" Valajin replied. When he got a nod, he said "I'll keep this short: Lew Brell sent me here to get his brother out of being a gangster."

"Is that so?" Rex hummed, glancing over at the cage as a gasp came from it. "Sorry, but I'm afraid I can't do that. You see, Cam here…" he said, waving a hand at the teen. "Tried to switch sides and join Fa'athra the moment they started shooting at us. He's a coward and a traitor, and Nem'ro's gonna have a lot of questions for him."

Valajin frowned. Whatever those 'questions' ended up being, he didn't imagine a big-time gangster would let a low-level traitor like Cam stay alive afterwards. Still, that didn't mean he had to force the issue, and just shooting one of Nem'ro's street captains wouldn't be good for his reputation. "I'm sure we can make some sort of deal," he offered.

Rex nodded, relaxing just a tad. "You're right, we don't need to handle this violently. We're civilized criminals, aren't we?" he said with a faint smile. "So how about I give you some credits–more than whatever Lew offered–and you be on your way? Tell Lew you get here too late."

That only caused his frown to deepen. Even if he took the money, word would either get out that he failed a job or, even worse, that he double-crossed a client for credits. Either one would cause less people to hire him, but the latter would be terrible for his rep. Even gangsters and warlords only hired people they thought wouldn't backstab them.

Thinking back to what Lew had said about leaving, an idea struck him. "I got a counteroffer," Valajin began. "You let Cam go, and both he and his brother never set foot on Hutta again."

Rex reared back. "You kidding? What am I supposed to tell the rest of the boys? That you turn coward and get a free pass off Hutta?" he countered.

He shrugged. "Tell them you shot him and dumped his body. Or that he escaped and is stuck living out in the swamplands."

There was a moment of silence as Rex considered it, working his jaw from side to side. "There's a chance they might not go for it…" he said, before glancing down at Valajin's blasters. "But it looks like you're not giving me much choice." He sighed. "Looks like you got lucky, Brell. Your big brother's hired muscle just saved your skin."

Then he turned and walked over to the cage, punching a few numbers into the keypad on its side. It slid open just long enough for Cam to dart out, looking up at Valajin with wide eyes. "T-thank you! Thank you so much!" he said.

Valajin jerked his thumb behind him. "You brother's waiting at the Poison Pit. Get going," he said bluntly.

Cam nodded and sprinted out of the room. The moment he was gone, Rex gave the Rattataki a grim look. "I'd suggest getting out of here, too. Who knows when Fa'athra's people are gonna make another push," he advised.

He didn't need to be told twice; even now, the sounds of the two gangs duking it on on the streets he hadn't walked through could still be heard.

The Gamorreans had, fortunately, kept their word and secured the route he had shot his way through, which cut down on the time he needed to get back to cantina.

Once he was there, the first thing Valajin saw Lew, who likewise caught sight of him. As he came closer, the human gave him a relieved smile. "I just got a holo-call from my brother. Good thing, too; with how things are heating up, Nem'ro might get picky about who he lets leave on shuttles soon."

Valajin hummed. "Then we'd better settle up so that you and he can hightail it out of here," he said.

Lew hummed in agreement and handed him a handful of credit sticks. A quick count showed that he had been given a total of… fifty credits. Not even enough for a new blaster, but at least enough for some spare power packs for the ones he had.

Valajin just barely managed to keep his sigh inside his head. Everyone had to start somewhere, he supposed.

Lew continued "I can't thank you enough for this, kid. Take it all, and remember: be careful on Hutta. The Hutts will eat you alive if you let them."

He absently nodded, watching Lew get up and leave the cantina. Stars above, he could not wait for the day when he was getting paid several digits-worth of credits to do things for people. Shaking his head, Valajin waited until Lew was gone before stashing the credits in his pocket and making for Braden's suite.

When the door slid open, he saw that Braden was actually absent. Meanwhile, Mako and Jory were engaged in conversation. "–just saying that I want to go on some field missions, too. My aim's gotten pretty good," she said earnestly. "Anything would be better than just sitting around with you and our gear. No offense, big guy."

Jory shook his head. "None taken, little one. I remember when I was young and craved adventure," he said fondly.

That was when Valajin cleared his throat, getting the two of them to look at him. "Hey, look who made it back! You find anything out there, hotshot?" Mako asked.

He gave her a grin. "I found out that gangsters love picking fights they think they can win. And that I love proving them wrong," he said.

Jory let out a bellowing laugh at that. "You'll have no trouble indulging that passion here," he remarked.

Valajin nodded and reached into his pocket, producing the datapad he had recovered. "I also found this in Vexx's safehouse." He then tossed it in Mako's direction, saying "Think you can slice into it?"

Mako caught it and pretended to look offended. "There isn't a layer of encryption I've encountered that I haven't been able to get around," she proclaimed, turning the datapad on. "Give me five minutes. Tops."

Jory walked over to the bar and pulled out a bottle, pouring himself and Valajin a drink. "So you fought through all that violence to get that. I'm honored to join someone with that much skill on the Great Hunt," he said, sliding the drink across the bar to him.

Valajin picked it up and gave the Nikto a smile. "The pleasure's all mine, big guy," he replied, getting Jory to smile as well as they clinked glasses and both downed their drinks in one gulp.

As they both slammed their glasses down on the counter, the door slid open and Braden walked inside. He took in the scene and smiled. "Well, I guess we're celebrating some success, then?" he asked.

"You could say that," Jory replied.

Mako, meanwhile, looked up from the datapad long enough to give him a smile. "Hey, Braden. How was Nem'ro's palace? Are we getting Valajin in to see him?"

"I've laid the groundwork, including mentioning that we're taking care of Vexx for him. Nem'ro seemed interested, but we're not there yet," Braden told them. "Speaking of Vexx, what have you got?"

A few more keystrokes, and Mako answered "Some of Vexx's personal records, include purchase receipts. And there's one from today." Pulling that receipt up, her smile vanished. "Uh oh. It was for a shuttle ticket. Vexx is on his way off-planet!"

Braden's eyes widened in shock. "Then we have to move fast! Does it say which shuttle, and where?" he asked urgently.

She nodded. "Yep. Jiguuna Spaceport, Docking Bay 3. And it's scheduled to leave soon."

The old hunter turned to Valajin. "Well, then, kid, this is it. Only the boldest make it into the Great Hunt; you ready to take down a target as bold as Vexx?"

That barely required any thought, facing bold targets was why he agreed to Braden's offer to begin with. "I'm ready for him and more," Valajin said confidently, hands on his hips.

Braden grinned. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear."

Jory piped up, saying "Speed and accuracy be yours, hunter. We're all counting on you."

"Good luck, tough guy," Mako added.

Valajin gave them all a nod. "I won't let you down," he said firmly, before turning and leaving.