Before the Great Hunt has even begun, a Mandalorian named Tarro Blood has been eliminating his future competition; Mako is the only survivor of his attempt to wipe out Valajin's crew. Now it falls to him to convince Nem'ro the Hutt to sponsor him without Braden's help. Nem'ro has offered Valajin a chance by hunting down three separate bounties, the first of which is a formidable Evocii warrior…

As Valajin stepped back into Nem'ro's cantina, more than a few eyes turned his way. The fact that he had marched straight in, gone to the Hutt's throne room and came back out meant that he was someone to watch for. Whether that was as a target, competition for business, or as someone to hire. For one of the patrons there, he fell into the last one. "Stranger? Stranger!" they called, getting him to look over at them.

They were a humanoid species with tanned skin, a wide nose, gangly build and dark hair on the sides of their head. As Valajin came within speaking distance, he said "Something I can help you with? And what are you?"

They didn't appear offended by the question, making him wonder how often they were asked that. "I am Morsel, and I am Evocii," he revealed, making Valajin look him over again. This was an Evocii? "Oh, I am saved! You do work for Nem'ro the Bounteous, yes? He gives me job as well, as administrator of nearby work camp. But I have problem."

Valajin crossed his arms. "I need details before I agree to anything. And I don't work for free," he said.

"Of course, of course," Morsel said anxiously. "Nem'ro takes me from the swamps, gives me new name and job. Orders me to keep enforcers at his camp in line. But they hired to bully other Evocii, and laugh at me!" he complained.

The Rattataki raised an eyebrow. "With a name like 'Morsel', you think they're gonna respect you?" he said, unable to hold back a small snort.

The Evocii gave him a confused look. "Nem'ro said new name was great honor–there was ceremony and everything!" he said, which made Valajin use every ounce of willpower he had to not burst out laughing. "But those camp enforcers, they respect nothing!"

"So you want me to… what? Adjust these enforcers' attitudes?" he asked.

"Precisely. Go to work camp and wave your blaster in chief enforcer's face. Make them see Morsel not to be laughed at, and I will give you stack of credits," Morsel promised.

So he didn't even have to kill them, just scare the daylights out of them. "You got yourself a deal," Valajin said.

Morsel grinned. "Wonderful! Work camp is in Evocii village, speeder will take you there. Thank you, savior!" he said, bowing his head.

Valajin just nodded and turned away. As he did, a small smile grew on his face. Not only was he still getting to punch people, but now people were throwing money at him to do it. Being a bounty hunter was amazing. When he turned, however, he reflexively scanned the far sides of the room and nearly did a double-take.

Across the cantina, coming out of a hall on the left of the band, was the small human woman he had seen from the shuttle. He recognized the cybernetics on her jaw and brow. But unlike before, her black hair was pulled back, she was wearing some sort of light red armor, and she had a blaster rifle on her back.

The moment that Valajin stopped moving, large and visible as he was, her gaze snapped over to him. Her eyes widened, recognizing him as well.

Neither of them moved or spoke, sizing each other up from across the room. Or at least, Valajin was sizing her up, while she wasn't showing any expression other than surprise. 'That hall also leads further into the palace,' he thought. Not, however, to Nem'ro's throne room. So whoever she was, she had business with someone high up in Nem'ro's gang, but not the boss himself. He wondered who, and if it related to her new wardrobe.

Then he gave a mental shrug. Whatever her business was, if it wasn't with Nem'ro, it wasn't likely to get in the way of his sponsorship. That was good enough for him.

Valajin gave the girl the same friendly wave he did last time, and her expression remained unchanged as she robotically waved back. Snorting with laughter, he exited the cantina and then the palace. Not far from the palace entrance was a protocol droid running a speeder rental. These ones only had a handful of destinations pre-programmed into their navicomputers. Thankfully, but not surprisingly, Nem'ro's closest work camp was one of them.

As he flew the speeder through the air, Valajin was able to feel the damp humidity of the swamp in the air even this high up. He could see the marshy bogs that footpaths wound around, as well as large puddles of unclean water and sporadic patches of grass. And he could make out small bands of people here and there, all of them armed–people who had ended up living in the swamp for one reason or another. It was never by choice, that much he could tell: Jigunna was one thing, but no one lived out in this toxicity unless they weren't welcome anywhere else.

After a few minutes, the work camp came within sight. It was being run out of a tiny village surrounded by high, thick walls. That contrast continued inside, with some tents that were relatively modern that had been set up alongside huts made from cloth and tree limbs. More than a few people were milling around and wearing Nem'ro's insignia. Meanwhile, twice as many Evocii were either digging into the ground, assembling mining equipment, or were being shouted at by the enforcers.

Parking his speeder near the village exit, Valajin hopped off and walked inside, looking around for any sign of where the head enforcer might be. As he looked, he overheard one of the mining foremen, a Twi'lek, talking to a pair of human enforcers.

"They're lazy, stupid, and complain all the time. We'd be better off if we replaced them all with droids," he complained, waving a hand at some of the nearby Evocii.

The enforcer to his left nodded in agreement. "We'd probably get more done, too," he said. "Those new Czerka labor models? I'm telling you, they're worth it."

"I'll say. They don't smell, you don't need to feed 'em, and they understand both Huttese and Basic," the other enforcer added.

Valajin suppressed a frown as he passed them by. When he had heard that the Evocii had sold this planet to the Hutts, he didn't realize they had also sold themselves. Which meant that they had an entire planet of people to do nothing but menial labor for them. The Evocii were, for all intents and purposes, a species of slaves.

One of the huts appeared to be in better shape than the others, so he made a beeline for it. Inside was another Evocii and a blue-skinned male Twi'lek.

The Twi'lek gave him a friendly smile. "Choowahai, stranger! That's Evocii for 'hello'," he said. "This camp doesn't get a lot of visitors that aren't backwards savages. You come looking for some workers?"

Valajin shook his head. "I'm looking for the guy in charge around here. That you?" he said.

That got the Twi'lek to laugh loudly. "Me, in charge? No way, that'd be the biggest tent round here. I just sell salvage to the Evocii. Name's Var'soontha," he said, extending a hand.

Although he reached out and shook it, the Ratattaki said "Valajin. Pleasure, but I've got business I need to take care of."

Var'soontha's eyes widened. "Now, hold on! Who says I don't have something worth your while? Just ask my assistant here. Imot," he said, looking over at the Evocii.

Imot bowed his head, dully saying "Welcome to Var'soontha's Many Treasures." Then he looked up and said, with noticeably more energy, "Do you know the Black Death that haunts my people?"

While Valajin raised both eyebrows at the question, Var'soontha sighed. "Imot, I keep telling you: not every off-worrlder knows the Black Death!" he said with a trace of annoyance. "Sorry, these Evocii are generally decent folk, but not too bright. Ignore him."

The bounty hunter held up his hand. "Now, hold on, this sounds interesting," he said, getting the Twi'lek to step back. "This 'Black Death'–is it a person, a droid, or a beast?" he asked.

"Just a guy, and that's not his real name," Var'soontha answered. "The Evocii call him that because he wears black when he hunts them."

Valajin blinked once. Twice. "When you say he 'hunts' them…" he said. Given his profession, 'hunt' could be anything from capture to disintegration.

Imot replied "The Black Death kills my people for sport. He butchers our women and children."

Var'soontha added on "He started out just hunting the hostile Evocii in the swamps–the ones that try fighting the Hutts. Now he's killing ones from the camp, too, and having the time of his life. Keeps their ears and teeth as trophies. If it gets any worse, I might have to get a real job."

That was… wow. These Evocii were sapient enough to hold a conversation. This Black Death wasn't just going on a hunt, but a murder spree.

Then Var'soontha said the magic words. "You know, I'll bet someone like you could get this guy to knock it off. I'd make it worth your while."

"Done," Valajin said instantly. He wouldn't even worry about the size of the fee this time. Knocking around some lunatic and being paid? Again, being a hunter was great. "Where do I find him?"

"You'll be looking for a vehicle out in the swamps with security droids around it. Might want to do something about those first; this Black Death guy apparently doesn't like visitors," the Twi'lek warned.

Well, who could have guessed that? "I'll be back after I handle it, then," he told them. Then he stepped out to find the building with the chief enforcers. Focusing on the tents, he spotted one that was larger than the others, with two of Nem'ro's thugs guarding it. There we go.

Inside, he found two more humans from Nem'ro's gang along with a larger human man with short red hair and brown eyes. He turned as Valajin entered, saying "What's going on? Who are you?" he asked.

Cutting to the chase, Valajin said "Morsel sent me. I hear that you've been giving him a hard time, that you don't respect Nem'ro's authority."

The chief enforcer reared back. "That we what? But we–" he started, before his eyes widened as the hunter's hand hovered over his blaster. "Whoa! Look, man, I'm sorry. I-I'm real sorry," he said quickly, holding his hands up. "Me and the boys, we were just having some fun, cracking some jokes about Morsel. You're not… you're not gonna kill us for that, are you?"

From the panicked expression on his face, it was clear he thought Valajin would. Nem'ro must not respond to insubordination very well. The two sidekicks this guy had looked afraid and ready to draw, but he had his other blaster in case they did. Luckily for these guys, being dead wouldn't fix their attitudes.

With that in mind, Valajin pulled out his pistol and aimed at the man's chest, but kept his finger off the trigger. "If I have to come back out here and have this conversation again, it'll be your last," he said warningly.

The enforcer's breath was rapid and shallow, a sweat breaking on his brow. "You-You are not gonna have to come back, promise! We won't give Morsel a hard time anymore. We won't even laugh at his name, I swear!" he agreed.

The Ratattaki was quiet for a moment, letting the humans sweat just a little more. Then he nodded and said "Good," before holstering his blaster. The enforcer nearly fell over as he sagged in relief, but perked up when he continued "While you're in a cooperative mood, you guys have any idea where I'd look for Huttsbane?"

"Huttsbane? You mean you're going after him?" He asked, which Valajin confirmed with a nod. "Thank goodness; I lost three guys the last time he attacked this camp. Last we heard, he was holed up in another village south of here. Locals there don't like Nem'ro, though, and assume anyone that ain't Evocii works for him. I'd be careful."

So he should expect to have to fight his way through until he found his target. "Duly noted," he said.

Baratatta Village was less than an hour's walk from the work camp along the muddy and uneven grounds of the bog. Once the village gate came within sight, Valajin was immediately able to see the four Evocii standing at the front, three with blaster rifles and one with a pistol. Rather than charge in like a drunken fool, he decided to stay back and get a better vantage point.

He found one on the hills on the other side of the village. From there, he could see that the village only had a dozen huts total. It was split by footpaths into four sections, and at the center was a hut that, while the same size, had some ornate clothes draped on its outside. That would probably be his best bet for finding Huttsbane,but there was another problem. Patrolling those streets were about two dozen other Evocii split up into groups of three or four. And all of them were armed.

Given how small the village was, taking on just one of those patrols would make enough noise to alert the others. Unless he felt like going through two-dozen armed enemies at once just to reach his target.

And so, for the next hour, Valajin lay there on that hill, watching as the various patrols moved to and fro. He took note of the routes each group went, where those routes intersected, and the times it would take them to return to their original positions. Eventually, he was able to spot a small gap: a large tree on the eastern edge of the village. The patrol that was supposed to inspect it never looked behind the tree, just walked up to it and turned around. Perfect.

Curiously, he also noticed that several of the patrols were guardining what looked like supply crates with Nem'ro's insignia on them. Stolen goods from their last raid, he'd wager. Nem'ro would probably be happy if he brought them back… but that wasn't what he was being paid for.

Taking the power pack out of one of his blasters, he tied it to a few of his wrist-rockets. Once the patrol in question was far enough away, he snuck around to that side of the village and set the explosive bundle against the base of the tree under a pile of leaves. He then moved through the foliage around the village to the western side.

Distraction in place, Valajin held up his wrist gauntlet and pressed a small button. The rockets remotely detonated and, combined with the power pack, created a fireball that was both deafening and very large. Enough to blast off half of the tree's trunk, making it groan before it started to fall towards the village.

The Evocii were already sounding an alarm after the blast. Once the tree began falling, however, the patrols began converging towards the eastern side of the village. Valajin took the opportunity to move in, trying to stay out of sight by moving between the huts.

He was only mostly successful. Once he stepped out into the relatively open space by the center hut, one group of three Evocii spotted him from ten feet away. Their eyes widened, but before any of them could react, he pulled out his remaining pistol and shot all three of them in the chest. They all shouted in pain, but that was lost amidst the panicked shouts from the other patrols.

Reaching the central hut, Valajin didn;t give its occupants a chance to ready themselves further. Instead, he yanked open the thin metal door and stepped inside, blaster raised.

Standing in the center of the hut was a relatively young, male Evocii, He was bald with a gray headband, wearing stitched-together clothes and a mal patch over his right eye. At his waist was a dagger made from some large fang, while a vibroblade hung from his back. Flanking him were two more Evocii, both of them carrying blaster pistols. And to the left, seated at the edge of a bed, was a much older Evocii with dark hair and a tired expression.

The younger one crossed their arms and glared at Valajin. "So, Nem'ro found some moral-less scum to attack my village," he said angrily. "Are you proud of yourself? Will you butcher our children and elderly as well?"

Valajin shook his head. "Of course not. The only one with a bounty of them is you," he said.

But then the older Evocii stood and stepped forward, hand raised. "Wait, stranger. Perhaps there is another way," he said calmingly.

The Ratattaki gave him a raised eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"The Hutts treat us like criminals, but they are the ones who take what is not theirs. This planet has been home to us Evocii since before the Hutts came," the old man began. "You are a warrior, you must understand why we fight for our birthright."

Valajin frowned. According to Nem'ro, the Evocii had sold them this planet… but that was coming from a Hutt, so he should probably take that with a grain of salt. "You got a raw deal, I agree. But whether that's true or not, politics don't interest me," he said bluntly.

Huttsbane scoffed. "See, elder? You waste your breath trying to reason with outsider scum," he said.

Well, didn't that just make him want to punch the little snot is his massive nose. Before he could act on that thought, the elder said "Patience, Huttsbane. Not all outsiders bow before the Hutts." Then he looked at Valajin. "You are here to kill Huttsbane, yes? To take his head to Nem'ro?" When Valajin nodded, he continued "Dead Evocii all look alike to him; he would not be able to tell the difference between one warrior's head versus another's."

Huttsbane's eyes widened. "Elder! You would desecrate our dead? Give one of them to an outsider?!" he exclaimed.

But Valajin ignored him in favor of the wiser one. "One problem with that: The next time Huttsbane raids one of his holdings, Nem'ro's going to know something's up."

The elder shook his head. "That is why, from this day forward, our greatest warrior will aid us from the shadows. Huttsbane will never be seen by the Hutts again," he countered.

But Huttsbane shook his head. "No, I won't! There is no honor in violating our dead and making deals with outsiders!"

"Calm yourself, Huttsbane. I fear that if you were to fight this hunter, you would lose," the elder said, looking Valajin up and down. "Today, we must place survival over honor. Outside, I ask you, will you take another warrior to Nem'ro as a substitute?" he asked, looking the hunter in the eye.

There was a long moment of silence as Valajin considered that. On the one hand, he would have technically failed this job, which he was trying to establish a reputation for not doing. On the other, no one would know he had failed except these Evocii and himself. He wouldn't need to worry about losing favor with Nem'ro. And besides, it wasn't like he wasn't trying to pull one over on the Hutt already, right?

But… all that assumed that Nem'ro really wouldn't be able to tell if the head he brought wasn't Huttsbane's. If he did figure it out, he could kiss that sponsorship for the Great Hunt goodbye. That wasn't a risk he was willing to take.

"Sorry, but no deal. I can leave the rest of you alive, but Huttsbane's got to go," Valajin declared.

While the elder sighed sadly, Huttsbane nodded as if he had expected this all along. "Then you will fall under my blade!" he called, drawing his vibroblade. "Warriors, to me!" he called, and both the two other Evocii and the elder drew pistols. He then lunged forward, blade whistling through the air as he swung with lethal intent.

Valajin sidestepped the initial strike and fired at one of the assisting warriors, the orange bolt hitting the Evocii square in the chest. As they crashed to the ground, the second Evocii warrior fired his own shot. Valajin slammed the butt of his blaster into the side of Huttsbane's head, momentarily dazing him. That gave him a chance to back away and duck behind one of the hut's support beams. He tried to shoot back, but the cramped quarters and splinters flying around as the beam was shot threw off his aim.

Then the elder took advantage of the chaos to move around to where he had a clear shot. Valajin nearly didn't see the shot until it was too late, and twisted away from it. What would have been a head shot grazed his upper arm instead, nearly melting through the reinforced synthweave.

With Huttsbane recovering and the other Evocii shooting at him, he didn't have time to aim at the elder. Instead, he just aimed his gauntlet in that general direction and fired a rocket. Mentally, he made a note to restock on those soon; they were too useful to not be without.

That sentiment proved true when he heard a concussive blast and felt a wave of heat. The elder flew across the room and landed in a smoking pile. At the sight of that, Huttsbane snapped out of his daze and screamed "Murderer! Die!" and charged at him. Valajin barely managed to draw his dagger in time to parry the blow, sparks flying as the energy of the two blades met. He then rolled to the side, avoiding a follow-up strike from Huttsbane and firing at the other Evocii. That shot got them in the arm, causing that warrior to cry out and drop their blaster. It didn't finish them, however. And Huttsbane was right behind him, forcing to his feet in order to stay moving.

Then he had an idea. As Huttsbane came close and tried to swing again, Valajin caught the arm holding the blade. He then grabbed the other arm and lifted Huttsbane up in the air. The Evocii's eyes widened, but before he could break free, Valajin turned and threw him into the other warrior.

Both of them tumbled to the ground in a tangle of limbs. While they were disoriented, Valajin ran over and scooped up the other warrior's fallen blaster. Huttsbane saw him do that and quickly untangled himself from his comrade, jumping away. One shot for each Evocii turned into two for the other warrior, who went still as they hit him in the head and ribs.

Huttsbane scrambled to pick up their sword and charge him. But as he picked it up, Valajin kept his body low and lunged forward first. Wrapping his arms around his center, he tackled the Evocii and drove him into the ground. Huttsbane's breath escaped him a in a wheeze. Despite the loss of air, he still struggled to swing his sword up and prevent Valajin from stabbing him with that dagger.

The two warriors grappled on the floor, the confined space making every movement critical. Valajin finally managed to get the upper hand, pinning Huttsbane's sword arm to the ground. With a swift, brutal motion, he drove his vibrodagger into his chest, the energy blade piercing armor and flesh alike.

Huttsbane gasped, his eyes wide with shock and pain. Valajin stared into those eyes, watching as the fire in them slowly died. What air was still in Huttsbane's chest left with a whine, and his vibroblade clattered to the ground next to him.

Only after Huttsbane was dead did Valajin rise, panting heavily. That had been closer than he'd have liked to admit. That bodyguard had been one thing, but Huttsbane had wielded that blade like an expert. If he was going to make it in the Great Hunt, he needed to refine his close-range fighting.

For now, Valajin kept his knife out and kneeled next to Huttsbane's corpse.

Removing the head was… messy, to say the least. But the vibrotech was designed to easily cut through material, and the back of his knife was serrated. Once he was done, he found a small burlap sack that the elder had been using to hold fruit. Emptying it out and putting the head in, he tied it shut and gave it a nod.

"That should do," he thought aloud. Now he just had to sneak back out of here without the rest of the village seeing him. He doubted that the explosion had kept them distracted for long. He couldn't even hear any shouting anymore… Wait a second.

Valajin blinked, turning towards the doorway. In fact, he didn't hear anything coming from outside, just the crackling of the flames from the tree he had blown over. No shouting, no footsteps, nothing.

Suddenly getting a very bad feeling, the Rattataki used his free hand to raise his pistol. Whatever was going on, his fight had probably made a lot of noise. His best bet was to burst out and run.

Plan hastily made, Valajin nodded and stepped away from the door. With a grunt, he kicked it open and dashed outside, blaster raised high… and slowed to a halt.

The other Evocii patrols–they were still here.

They were just all dead.

In every direction Valajin looked, there were dead Evocii. Some had blaster wounds, others looked like they had been hit with explosives, and some even had their throats cut. The entire village, over two dozen bodies in total… all of them executed in the time he had been inside, talking and fighting.

Even on Rattatak, a slaughter like this was rare, and he was a long way from home.

Who in the blazes had done this?

Then Valajin noticed something else as well. The supply crates he had seen, the ones with Nem'ro's symbol: they were all gone. He sincerely doubted that was a coincidence. But whoever had done this, it appeared that they were long gone. The village was completely quiet–the only thing left alive here was him. It felt… unsettling.

That was when he heard a beeping coming from his pocket. Brow furrowing, he reached into it and felt around. A moment later, he pulled out the source: a holocommunicator. Where had this come from?

Welcoming the distraction from the macabre scene around him, Valajin answered the call. A small, holographic image of Mako appeared. "Hey, it's Mako. I've got some information for you," she said.

Valajin raised an eyebrow. Last they had spoken, she was off to bury Braden and Jory. "You holding up alright?" he asked. "Also, did you put this thing in my pocket?

She gave him a smile at the show of concern. "I'm better now that I've got a lead. And yes, I put it there before you left," she said, making him hum. He hadn't even seen her do that. "Anyway, that guy that killed Braden and Jory? I verified that he really is Tarro Blood. Since he's a Mandalorian, he competes with other Mandalorians to enter the Great Hunt. But ever since they ganged up on him last time, he's spent years building up support with them. And here's the new part: Now he's straight-up buying off some of the other Mandalorians to not target him!"

The Rattataki took that in, before nodding. "I don't care how many people he hires for me to go through, I'll avenge Jory and Braden," he told her.

"That's what I like to hear," she said with satisfaction. "For now, concentrate on impressing Nem'ro. Once we've got his sponsorship, we're one step closer to Blood. Oh, and one more thing…" she said, before looking behind her.

That act piqued his curiosity, and she said "While I was out taking care of… saying goodbye to Braden and Jory…" She paused, took a deep breath, and then exhaled. "I caught someone following me."

Valajin's eyes widened. "It wasn't Tarro or that sidekick of his, was it?" he asked.

Mako shook her head. "It wasn't them. He was an alien, big and with three fingers on each hand. He was dressed like some offworld tribesman and wore a white bone mask, like a death's head," she told him.

Valajin frowned. That didn't sound like any species he recognized, though that wasn't a very long list. Still, the bone mask made it unlikely that they were friendly. "This guy try to come after you?" he asked.

"No, but he could tell I saw him. I kept an eye out, but he disappeared almost right after I spotted him," she told him. "Keep your eyes open in case you see him. And in the meantime, go show that Hutt who the galaxy's best bounty hunter is," she encouraged.

Valajin smiled. "Will do," he promised, and ended the call.

Since there obviously wasn't anyone left to guard it, he exited the village through the front gate. As he was walking along the path back to the work camp, he spotted a droid on top of one of the hills. A security droid.

Valajin slowed and adjusted his course, moving around the trees and getting closer to the droid. Once he was about thirty feet away, he also saw five other droids. All of them were arranged roughly in a circle around a small, shallow pond. And hovering that pond was a landspeeder with a tinted interior.

Just what he needed to finish dispelling the unease that seeing the village wiped out had caused him.

He took a deep breath, steadied his aim, and burst from cover, his blaster and the one he took from the Evocii firing in rapid succession. The first two droids barely had time to register him on their sensors before he shot them, sparks flying from their chassis. The remaining droids reacted immediately, their blaster rifles coming to life with a barrage of red bolts.

Valajin dove to the side behind a cluster of rocks. Blaster fire pelted the stone, sending chips of rock flying. He peeked out and fired a few shots, drawing the droids' attention away from his position. He took note of their tight grouping and decided to exploit it. Darting out from his cover, he sprinted toward the pond, using the droids' momentary confusion to his advantage. He fired at the droids on the left flank, hitting one in the head and causing it to topple into the water with a splash.

The remaining three droids adjusted their aim, but Valajin was already in motion, zigzagging to make himself a harder target. He fired at the nearest droid, hitting its leg joint and sending it staggering. He followed up with a quick double-shot to its torso, deactivating it.

Two droids left. They began to spread out, trying to flank him. Valajin sprinted towards the pond's edge, then dropped to a knee and fired at the droid on his right. His shots found their mark, and the droid's blaster rifle flew from its grasp as it collapsed. The final droid advanced cautiously, its rifle aimed directly at Valajin. It fired a continuous stream of bolts, forcing him to dodge and weave.

The few shots he couldn't completely dodge deflected off his armor. The moment there was a lull as the droid's blaster overheated, he lunged forward at them. He grabbed its rifle with one hand, wrenching it to the side and firing his blaster point-blank into its head. The droid twitched and went still, its circuits fried.

That was when the door to the speeder opened with a hiss, its occupant drawn out by all the noise. What emerged was, contrary to Valajin's imagination, not a decorated assassin or some bestial warrior. Instead, the person who came out was a heavyset human man with black hair, a ruddy complexion and a thick beard, dressed in a black bodysuit with yellow stripes. He had a hunting rifle on his back, and over his heart was a logo he didn't recognize.

"Stop this nonsense at once!" he said angrily, glaring at Valajin. "What do you think you're doing, blasting my droids? I am a senior administrator at Czerka Corporation!"

Well, that answered his question about the logo and outfit. "You've been a busy man, Black Death," Valajin replied.

The man gave him a confused look. "Black Death? What in the world are you talking about?!" he asked, before shaking his head. "Whoever you are, I demand to know why you're interrupting my hunting trip."

The hunter gave him a flat look. Did he really not see anything wrong with what he was doing? "I was told you have a certain 'fascination' with Evocii ears," he said plainly.

Now he looked even more confused. "I always take trophies from my kills; that's half the joy in hunting. I also have gundark ears and rancor tusks," he replied. Then he sighed. "Let me guess, one of the Evocii put you up to this, didn't they?"

Well, technically it was Var'soontha that was going to pay him, but… "So what if it is?" Valajin countered.

The 'Black Death' let out an exasperated groan. "Look, we both know these creatures are no better than akk dogs, so don't pretend this is about them," he said. That caused a stormy expression to begin forming on the bounty hunter's face, but he ignored that and continued "I know how it works here on Hutta. I'll pay you handsomely to leave me alone in peace."

The idea of a 'handsome' payment was nice, and this guy could probably give him more than that Twi'lek would. However, he had already agreed to one job, he wouldn't double-cross them for more money. Also, that 'akk dog' bit bothered him–this guy really didn't see any issue with killing these Evocii by the dozen. And given what he had just left… "Stuff your credits, you're not buying your way out of this."

The Black Death rolled his eyes. "Oh, for the love of–! What do you want, then?!" he demanded with an annoyed expression.

That expression faded when Valajin drew his blaster. "I want you dead, you sick filth," he declared.

"How… How dare you–!" he managed to say, trying to draw his rifle. But Valajin already had his blaster aimed, and the Czerka exec screamed in pain as a bolt struck his arm and melted flesh. Before he could suffer too much, he was ended with another shot, this one to the face.

The Black Death fell like a puppet with no strings, and Valajin holstered his blaster with a smile. That had felt very good.

Once Valajin made it back to the work camp, he stopped by Var'soontha's before getting on a speeder.

The older Tw'lek gave him a wave. "Hey, there. One of Imot's little buddies said he saw you kill the Black Death. Pretty brutal, from what I heard," he said, appearing equal parts thankful and wary.

Valajin shrugged. "I made that call that made sense to me; guy was a real piece of work," he said.

Var'soontha visibly suppressed a shudder. "You must have ice water running through your veins," he said, making the Rattataki smirk. Whether he meant it or not, that was a compliment he liked.

Then Imot stepped forward, bowing his head. "You punished the Black Death and avenged my people. Tonight, we will celebrate you as we sing around our campfires," he said sincerely.

That turned Valajin's smirk into a full smile. "That's nice. Just make sure you get my name right in those songs of yours," he said.

Imot nodded. "We will," he promised.

"Alright, that's enough, Imot," Var'soontha interjected. "Finish scrubbing those broken power converters, would you?" While Imot walked away, the Twi'lek reached into his pocket. "And here's your credits, my friend. Safe travels," he said, holding out two one-hundred-credit sticks.

Valajin accepted them, saying "And safe salvaging to you. See ya," before turning and leaving the tent. Between that payment–and quickly selling his empty blaster plus the one he got from the Evocii to a pair of enforcers–he was up to almost eight hundred credits total. More than enough to fix what damage his armor had taken so far, and maybe even enough to restock on rockets… once he was somewhere that sold them. As best he could tell, while Hutta certainly had a demand for miniature antipersonnel missiles, it didn't really have a supply.

Maybe once he secured a ride off this planet, he could stop by Nar Shaddaa.

As it was, he found the speeder he had rented before still parked where he left it next to the other rentals. Hopping on, he was treated to another short ride through the swamps as it took him back to Jiguuna, and then over the streets to the rental spot near Nem'ro's palace.

This time, when he reached the entrance, the six Gamorrean guards didn't even give him a second glance. They had seen him go inside and come back out alive, which meant Nem'ro obviously welcomed him. The guards at the cantina didn't harass him either, enabling him to enter without any issue.

Predictably, the moment he was in sight, Morsel's expression lit up. He stood up from the table he was at and waved his hand. "Hunter, savior! Over here!" he called, making Valajin suppress the urge to groan. He did not like hero worship.

Still he walked over, and the Evocii said "I received a holocall from the chief enforcer. He says his men are sorry for laughing at Morsel–that Morsel speaks for Nem'ro, and it is not to be trifled with!" Grabbing one of the hunter's hands with both his own, he says "You have made them respect Morsel, and now I can do the work that Nem'ro the Bounteous gave me! Thank you!"

Giving Morsel's hand a quick shake, Valajin quickly pulled his hand back. "Well," he said, coughing into his fist. "Then I guess this is the point where you pay me."

"Oh yes, yes. I promise stack of credits, and I provide," Morsel replied, before dropping two entire handfuls of credit sticks onto the table. Each of them was worth fifty credits, making Valajin's eyes bulge. There had to be around a dozen sticks there.

"How much does administering that work camp pay?" he asked incredulously, looking up from the money at Morsel.

The Evocii grinned. "I call Nem'ro 'bounteous' for good reason," he said simply, before pushing the pile towards him. "And now that I can continue to work, Nem'ro will give me more in the future," he said.

Valajin decided to stop looking a gift nerf in the mouth and scooped up the pile. He'd have to find a less bulky way to carry his money. Maybe Mako could get them a credit chip that worked both in and out of Republic or Imperial space? Did those even exist?

Once he had finished pocketing his payment, Valajin bade Morsel farewell and began heading for Nem'ro's throne room. The Weequay at the start of the hall gave him a nod, which he returned as he walked by. Past that was the waiting room, where Juda gave him a smile and wave but didn't look up from her computer. After knocking and being scanned by the surveillance droid again, he was let into the throne room.

Nem'ro was right where he had left him, lounging on his throne with his two slave girls in front of him and Carnus by his side. "Ah, my little bounty hunter returns!" Nem'ro exclaimed.

"And he smell like dead savage!" Carnus added.

In response, Valajin held up the bag and untied it. Turning it over, he let Huttsbane's head fall onto the floor and roll towards the Hutt. Neither he or Carnus–or Nem'ro's slaves, for that matter–appeared unsettled by the sight. In fact, Nem'ro leaned forward for a better look at it. "Then it's true, you did kill the famed Huttsbane. Tell me the details of your hunt," he said eagerly.

He shrugged. "Not much to say. You asked for his head, I went there and got it. The rest of his village is gone, too," he said. He decided not to mention that it wasn't him that killed them all.

Nem'ro chuckled. "So simple, was it? Well, one success might be luck, but you have two more targets to kill for me," he stated. "Your next one will not be easy to reach, though you shouldn't have much trouble once you do. Tell me, what do you know about the fighting that is happening here on Hutta?"

Valajin hummed. "It's a turf war between you and another Hutt, right? Someone named Fa'athra."

"It is more than a simple turf war," Nem'ro said, his expression turning thunderous. "That upstart Fa'athra lays claim to what is not his. My factories, my slaves, my employees, even Jiguuna itself. In short, he desires everything that belongs to me!" he said, briefly slamming his fist into the wall behind him.

Around the room, Valajin could see people tense at the Hutt being in a bad mood. He even noticed a female Rodian sitting in the back of the room, hand hovering over her blaster as she watchef him.

Then Nem'ro took a breath and visibly claimed himself. "Some fools think that Fa'athra is becoming a stronger Hutt than I. One of those fools is my former accountant, Yalt. He must die for his betrayal."

The hunter raised an eyebrow. "And what makes this accountant so hard to reach?" he asked.

"Yalt now works in the Rust Yards, a factory complex that Fa'athra stole from me with a small army of mercenaries and droids. He keeps Yalt behind a blast-proof door with an advanced security system. However, someone with your ingenuity will find a way past it, I'm sure," Nem'ro explained.

Hmm… Well, every security system needed a power source. If he had to, he'd blackout the whole factory. He just needed to make sure that wouldn't seal the doors shut. "Anything else I should know before I go?"

"One more thing, yes. Once you have killed Yalt, take his head to the cantina. I will arrange for his wife–who originally convinced him to rebel against me–to be there to receive it."

At that, Valajin forced back a frown. That was… a bit less clean than the work he had done so far. But he had come this far, he couldn't get cold feet now. If he wanted into the Great Hunt, he had to be willing to do anything.

"Now go, and show my former employee what it means to cross Nem'ro!" the Hutt called, waving at him to leave.

Carnus spoke up, adding "See Juda if you want credits. She pay you bounty for dead savage."

He blinked. He... was getting paid for Huttsbane, too? He expected the 'payment' to that he was still in the running for the sponsorship. Still, he wasn't going to complain.

Valajin turned around and walked out of the throne room, glancing at the Rodian out of the corner of his eyes. She was still watching him as he left, hand still over her blaster, but otherwise didn't move.

Once he was back in the waiting room, Juda stood up from her desk. "Hey, I think I've got something for you," she said.

With that kind of phrasing, he just couldn't help it. "I was hoping you'd say that," he replied with a smile.

"Not like that! You're bad," Juda 'lectured', though that was spoiled by the smile on her face. She held out a small slip of paper–a payment voucher. "Credits for the head of Huttsbane. Good work on that," she told him.

Deciding it might be a bit rude to start counting the money right there, Valajin just accepted the voucher. "I'll be back, so don't go anywhere," he said.

"Wouldn't dream of it, hon," Juda replied, sitting back down and refocusing on her screen.

New Title Acquired: Valajin, Hired Gun

Sorry to the guest that wanted Huttsbane spared. Valajin is just a tad too concerned at the moment with his own success to make that gamble.