The sergeant leading a reinforced squad of forward deployed scouts, with a small attachment of combat engineers, looked intently at the eerily quiet and empty spaces between the towering sub-buildings. These forward deployed scouts were tasked with a mission in the mega-floor above their enclave to keep watch for the approach of their enemy.
The scouts took hide positions in the nooks and crannies of the towering sub-buildings high above the crowded streets and sidewalks below. They were also posted on the tops of suspended holographic billboard frames, and anywhere else that their cloaking technology would make spotting them nearly impossible with the unaided eye.
The spaces, high up, in between the towering sub-buildings, which the scouts had been diligently monitoring, would ordinarily be choked with speeder traffic. Not only was the heavy traffic absent, it was quiet. It was so quiet that one could hear the voices of the boisterous denizens of the three hundred and sixteenth mega-floor on the pedestrian walkways down below their perches.
While all elevated speeder traffic was absent on the three hundred and sixteenth mega-floor, the public walkways, below, were choked with pedestrian traffic. The floor level roads were also crammed with privately operated mass transportation speeder busses, which were restricted to that mega floor. Sentient beings of over half a dozen species and civilian droids of seemingly every make, model, and type went about as though nothing were amiss.
"Something big is about to happen," Sergeant Egrahnah Bruuga Sharratt whispered to the warrior beside him, "It is obvious with all of the missing speeder traffic. Yet, these cretins go on with their lives as though they haven't even noticed."
It was obvious, now, that the Hutts were helping the Galactic Republic with the coming raid.
"Shall I go to them and tell them of the missing speeder traffic, Sergeant?" the soldier whispered back.
"When the war is done, and we are returned to our clansmen, remind me to assign you to sewer cleaning duties," Sergeant Egrahnah Bruuga whispered in reply to his subordinate's wisecrack suggestion.
"Yes, Sergeant," the subordinate answered, not backing down, "Give me a moment to enter a reminder on my datapad to do exactly that."
"Sergeant Egrahnah Bruuga!" another scout whispered, not quietly enough, "Over there!"
The Kaleesh Mandalorian sergeant looked in the direction indicated by his subordinate. He could see, in the distance, down the length of a wide boulevard between the towering sub-buildings, the flashing lights of Hutt police speeders. Sergeant Egrahnah Bruuga brought his macro binoculars to his eyes and cursed silently at what he saw.
"Filthy Hutt scum!" he raged to himself.
The Hutt police forces, lights flashing and sirens just barely starting to become audible, were actually escorting the enemy to Sharratt's enclave. The long train of speeders and armored dropships rapidly approached, using the open space high above the pedestrians, and floor level mass transit speeder busses.
He then got onto his encrypted, frequency hopping, audio only transceiver and quietly made his report.
"Movement, heading West over Targannah Avenue," the sergeant reported in Mando'a, "Armored dropships. Starting a count, now."
With that report Clan Sharratt warriors, on the clan's mega-floor below, began to receive orders to prepare for combat. The warriors began to power up their blaster rifles and other weapons. Shield generators were also powered up, as well as other defensive systems.
Ymmiir looked up at the huge, empty rectangular opening in the mega-ceiling that would normally be crammed with streams of speeder traffic ascending and descending between the three hundred and fifteenth mega-floor and the three hundred and sixteenth mega-floor above.
The squad of forward deployed scouts, on the mega-floor above would move on to their next objective with the attachment of combat engineers, after they'd completed their current mission. There was a false ceiling on the three hundred and fifteenth mega-floor, above the rooftops of their sub-buildings where utility infrastructure for the three hundred and sixteenth mega floor, above, was housed.
Sergeant Bruuga Sharratt's scouts would access the false ceiling from the three hundred and sixteenth mega-floor above. They would keep watch as the four-man combat engineer attachment inspected and powered up the turrets and other systems.
These autonomous turrets chose their own targets, based on whether the target failed to broadcast the correct Friend or Foe signal. These remotely triggered turrets had been secretly installed, over many years, by Clan Sharratt's combat engineers, connecting them to the mega building's main power grid.
After completing their mission at their second objective, on their own, the scouts would have to find another way back to Clan Sharratt's defensive positions in Enclave Sharratt. With Republic forces in control of the speeder traffic opening, between the mega floors, the scouts were effectively cut off and isolated behind enemy lines.
The grizzled war veteran watched as the first of the enemy dropships began to pass through the opening above, counting the dropships in the formation. The instant the enemy became visible passing through the huge opening above, the anti-ship ion cannons and the atomic particle beam cannons, mounted at various locations throughout the area, exploded into action, their powerfully loud reports announced the delivery of enormously powerful energy beams and pulses at the approaching dropships.
"Twenty five," Ymmiir told himself, as he received the scouts' audio only report.
"We count sixteen groups of twenty five dropships," Sergeant Egrahnah Bruuga's voice reported from Ymmiir's audio only transceiver.
"Twenty thousand troops on their first wave," Ymmiir thought, worriedly, "and we are already outnumbered."
The enemy heavy troop transports were, of course heavily shielded. Yet, Ymmiir was surprised at how well shielded they were. The anti-ship cannons seemed to be having very little effect on the enemy ships. The most damage he'd been able to detect inflicted upon the enemy craft was the paint getting terribly scorched in places on the hulls of the dropships, along with a few minor dents from some of the crafts' armor warping slightly out of shape from the intense heat and concussive force of the energy beam blasts.
Watching as the first wave touched down, Ymmiir realized that for years he'd only been fighting against Republic light infantry and Republic security forces. This would be his first battle against Republic heavy infantry.
"A new challenge, for me and for them," he told himself.
Ymmiir tried to remember whether any very large scale battles had been fought between Republic and contracted Mandalorian forces in the war between the Sith Empire and the Galactic Republic, but he could think of none. Republic forces had not actually fought any very large scale battles against Mandalorian forces since the ancient days of Darth Revan.
He knew that some of the larger Mandalorian clans provided contracted military services to the Sith Empire to conduct raid operations against specific strategic Galactic Republic targets. Ymmiir did not count raids as battles, but as sneak attacks that were over very quickly.
He was also aware of the prohibition against very large unit operations against Republic forces. Division level, corps level, and army level war operations were not allowed. Mandalore had prohibited full-war-level operations against Republic forces.
"A wise business policy, if one does not intend to commit to full on war against the enemy of our client," Ymmiir thought, "Otherwise, our profits would get eaten up by the costs of home defense, and full on naval operations."
Yet, the grizzled old warrior doubted every clan absolutely adhered to Mandalore's prohibition. Even Mandalore promised to fight knowing full well it would be a corps level operation, at least.
"Please, get here in time," Ymmiir whispered to himself.
He watched as the first wave of enemy transports all touched down in the park at the western edge of the mega-floor below the huge rectangular opening above. The huge space was normally a park for families to picnic and play together. Today, it was the beachhead of the Galactic Republic heavy infantry corps' invasion.
From the back of the heavy dropships, massive war droids emerged, crawling low on their three legs, before extending to their full height as they unfolded themselves. The heavy war droids, now standing fifteen feet tall on their three legs, and heavily shielded of course, extended their two upper appendages forward. However, instead of heavy cannons or artillery blasters, they were armed with very powerful ray-shield emitters.
The war droids joined their ray-shields together and expanded their perimeter creating an ever expanding, heavily shielded landing zone for the next group of dropships. The twenty five dropships of the first wave lifted off, returning from whence they'd come. From now on, the following waves of dropships would barely get hit with any of Clan Sharratt's anti-ship blaster fires.
Ymmiir shook his head, lamenting his clan's lack of anti-ship missiles.
"Who would have thought that we'd need surface to air missiles to destroy invading ships while inside of a mega building?" he asked himself, derisively.
So now, none of Clan Sharratt's fires would have any meaningful effect on the enemy dropships. It was, admittedly, a bit disconcerting to the grizzled old warrior. However, the Battle of Enclave Sharratt had only just begun. So, Ymmiir took heart as he looked up at the mega-ceiling.
"This is only the beginning, my enemy," Ymmiir said, though no one heard him, "We have surprises for you."
Since taking on the contract with the Grand Champion of The Great Hunt, he knew how the Galactic Republic would respond. From the day that Clan Sharratt's chosen began training for the operation, he conducted his own studies. When alone in his chambers, he poured himself into reading the writings of famous Republic generals, learning what he could of their battle philosophies, why they did the things the way they did.
With an understanding of Republic war and battle doctrines, he began the preparations for his clan's last stand. Clan Sharratt would lose the war, he knew, but his clan would die with honor and glory.
This was before Mandalore had pledged himself and his clan to stand at Ymmiir's and his clan's side. Now, he had hope that his clan would survive the coming war.
"I have read your books!" he whispered to no one in particular, "I know what you will do, and I can see what you are doing, now! I am ready for you!"
The expanding landing zone was now occupied by two groups of twenty five dropships, each, which had just landed. This time, a mix of the three legged fifteen foot high heavy war droids, and heavily armored bipedal seven foot tall humanoid war droids, came out from behind the fifty dropships. The ray-shield protected landing zone began to expand once again.
This time, however, a mix of artillery and blaster cannon fire emanated from the enemy controlled landing zone. For the first time, the enemy began to return fire, and it was hot!
Literally, it had become uncomfortably hot. The ray-shield, protecting Clan Sharratt's forces, glowed a bright translucent yellow and radiated intense heat as it absorbed the intense energies of the enemy droid fires.
The fifty dropships lifted off, as one. Then, a half minute later, the next wave of four groups of twenty five dropships swept in and touched down. This time, heavily armored infantry began to pour out from behind the dropships. The real fighting was about to begin.
As tiny as the chartered starship seemed to be, there were enough individual passenger spaces available that Wrehn's crew didn't have to bunk together. The Sith lords were especially glad about this, quickly sequestering themselves to their own rooms just to get away from Wrehn, her crew, and from each other.
In the largest space able to accommodate Wrehn's team, the cargo hold, Wrehn's team tried to relax with a game of sabacc. They stood around a large crate secured with tie-down straps in the center of the cargo hold deck. Skadge was forced to scrunch down a bit to keep from bumping his head on the low overhead.
Wrehn's coolers were set at the rear edge of the cramped cargo hold, right next to the ramp, which was raised and shut tight against the vacuum of space. Her coolers were also strapped to the deck with hold-down straps. They were also connected to ship's power, recharging their internal power packs, while keeping their contents very cool, though not frozen.
"Gault," Wrehn asked, anxious, "How long you gonna shuffle that deck? Deal already."
"You getting nervous, Wrehn?" Gault asked, teasing his employer with a wry grin, "You're just wound up and ready to explode! I know what you're thinking. I can read you like a datapad."
"OK," Wrehn challenged with a smirking grin, "What am I thinking?"
"You're worried that the extra quarter million credits from Orlo's bounty won't be enough to cover all of the expenses related to cleanup and security of your starship. It's already all been spent, and you've gotta come up with the rest from the big payday you've collected."
Wrehn wasn't thinking about that, but Gault's reminder wiped the smirk from her face and soured her mood.
"Wow!" Skadge marveled, "Gault can see your thoughts!"
Mako laughed at Skadge's amazement.
"He can't see her thoughts, Skadge," Mako countered, "It's just that Wrehn is so predictable, and it's easy to push her buttons."
"I know that, Mako," Skadge chided his team mate, "I was making fun of Wrehn."
Wrehn's sour countenance shifted slightly towards Mako on hearing her friend's characterization of the matter, and her mood soured even more on hearing Skadge's dig at her expense.
"I wasn't thinking about that, Gault," Wrehn confessed, sourly, then adding with a tiny edge of bitterness, "I was trying to forget about that and think about something else. So, your guess was wrong."
"Wrehn," Gault said, mystified, "You made three trillion credits, and are gonna collect another five billion when you turn in that head. Those expenses are tiny inconveniences, chump change, less than chump change. Forget collecting on Orlo's bounty. It isn't worth the trouble."
Wrehn didn't have an answer to that. Her response was a shrug of her shoulders.
"I have an idea," Gault said, offering his suggestion, "Why not just pay Jaggeh to take us to Dromund Kaas? We could turn the head in for the bonus, then come back later for Heaven's Cricket? They should be done cleaning it up, and it'll have aired out pretty good by then."
"We could hang out in Sith Empire Space for awhile, let things cool off a little before coming back for your ship."
"Then I'll have to pay for the extra time the security company has to guard my ship," Wrehn objected.
"Wrehn," Mako said, in disbelief, "you've made three trillion credits. That extra security expense won't mean anything!"
"Two trillion eight hundred fifty five billion credits," Wrehn corrected, her friend, "Imperial credits aren't worth as much as Hutt credits."
"Every credit counts," Gault said, to Wrehn's approval, but disappointing her with what he said next, "However, there's a thing called the law of diminishing returns. In my view, it isn't worth the effort to go to Hutta, dodging every bounty hunter out there, looking to collect a billion credit bounty on your head, all so that we can collect a quarter million credits."
"You're exaggerating, Gault. We're going," Wrehn insisted.
"What if we each pay you sixty two thousand five hundred credits to dump the body?" Mako offered.
"Not from my cut," Gault objected, somewhat not surprising Mako, but still disappointing her.
"I'll do whatever the Grand Champion of The Great Hunt orders," Torian announced, angering Mako.
"If it'll mean we can have a little fun, I don't mind going to Hutta," Skadge declared, shattering Mako's attempt to get out of going to the disgusting, polluted swamp world.
Hours later, after a short, restless nap, Wrehn and Gault, who couldn't sleep either, stood at the back of the tiny bridge of her chartered starship looking at the display screen. It was located on the overhead in front of the commander's chair, which was behind the pilot's and navigator's seats.
The screen, with its soft white display and black blips representing space traffic, showed many tens of thousands of tiny specs representing starships at various orbital altitudes and orbital tracks all around the Smuggler's Moon. Some of the thousands of streams of traffic was inbound, while others were streams of out bound traffic. The display looked like massive clouds of buzzing stinger bugs swarming, in an orderly fashion, to and from their hives.
Nar Shaddaa's surface measured around forty five million square kilometers, and every square meter of that surface area was covered in mega buildings built right next to the other. Each of the approximately seventy five thousand mega buildings averaged a footprint of approximately six hundred square kilometers, some much smaller and some much larger.
Of the moon's approximately seventy five thousand mega buildings, roughly a third of them had a spaceport built into the structure, either huge spaceports within the top floors of the mega buildings, or relatively tiny spaceports at the tops of one of the mega building's spires. Starships and local shuttles were constantly streaming in and out of each one.
The chartered ship continued to climb higher in one of the thousands of crowded streams of outbound traffic as it slowly accelerated to escape velocity from Nar Shaddaa's gravity. The most tedious and boring part of piloting starships was encountered in the very busy and crowded inbound and outbound traffic lanes of popular planet and moon destinations. Nar Shaddaa's and Hutta's space traffic were among the busiest in the galaxy, and therefore among the most tedious to navigate.
The array of tiny specs on the screen that most worried the Chiss bounty hunter, however, were the ones representing the Galactic Republic's naval forces in Anchored Low Orbit (ALO) over the moon. Per her request, the ship's captain entered a few commands to have the display screen show those ships as red blips.
Normally, at Planetary Low Orbit (PLO), you had to move fast enough to maintain orbit. However, when anchored, the starship was locked to the speed of the spin of the planet or moon below it. Essentially, the Republic warships were moving at a very low speed, but were anchored to a section of space, so that they would not fall to the surface of the moon, yet remained stationary above a specific spot over the moon's surface.
Starship anchors were very, very expensive, and not many starships had them. Their high cost made it so that only very, very large commercial freighters and warships had them. Most civilian starships, but especially the smaller starships, didn't have these anchors.
Not only were the costs prohibitive, but the size of the anchor generators took up a very large amount of space. They also required huge amounts of energy to operate. These anchors generally had their own power reactors to operate them, which was another reason why only very large commercial freighters and warships had them.
Starships, like Wrehn's Heaven's Cricket, and Jaggeh's…
"What's your ship called?" Wrehn asked the Sullustan ship commander.
"Vvuufreh-pp-hannii," Jaggeh replied, simply. He then explained, "In Galacdic Basic, tha' means, "Success in Money."
"Money? What's that?" Wrehn asked, wrinkling her brow. She'd never heard the word before.
"It is a very, very archaic word, no longer used in Galactic Basic," Gault answered for the Sullustan, "It means credits."
The Sullustan smiled and happily nodded his head, glad that someone besides himself understood what it meant. His friends and relatives always wondered why he didn't call his starship, Preenfreh-pp-hannii, instead. Since, Vvuufreh was the very archaic word for Preenfreh.
Another forty minutes passed and they were finally out of the heavy traffic. At this point, depending on the flight plan, a starship either jumped into hyperspace, or accelerated to light speed. Since the Vvuufreh-pp-hannii was only going to Hutta, Nar Shaddaa's parent planet, it only accelerated to sublight speed.
"Change heading eigh' nine five by zero three five," the ship captain ordered.
"Eight nine five by zero three five, aye," the Twi'lek acknowledged as he carried out the course correction.
"Advance throdel poin' zero zero five percen' ligh' speed," Jaggeh ordered his pilot.
"Point zero zero five percent light speed, aye," was the Twi'lek's reply.
None of the passengers could feel anything, thanks to the inertial dampers. However, Wrehn could see on the display screen, which had switched from Low Orbit View to Planetary Orbit View, as Nar Shaddaa suddenly receded away faster and Hutta quickly drew nearer.
Ten minutes later, during which small talk was had, Jaggeh gave new orders.
"Lock condrols, monidor fligh' path for deviations," Jaggeh commanded.
"Locking flight controls," the Twi'lek answered, as he completed the task.
The Bith navigator, in its warbling high pitched voice, added immediately after the pilot, "Monitoring flight path for deviations, aye."
In less than a few hours, they would be on final approach to Hutta, and would need to bleed off a lot of speed, to be captured by Hutta's gravity. Then they would need to enter Hutta's inbound space traffic pattern, another long and tedious navigational process.
Another few hours had passed and Wrehn was at once very happy, but also very miserable. She was finally out of the cramped starship gleefully stretching her legs – in the sweltering, humid, swamp-stinking, industrially polluted air of Hutta. The distant sounds of a blaster battle could be heard outside of their landing bay at the spaceport.
Wrehn could see the clear displeasure on Vindis' face. Calaverous actually looked annoyed, for once.
"The contract's over," Wrehn told the Sith lords, "You're not getting paid for this part. You don't have to come with, unless you're bored to death and want to tag along just because."
"Speaking for myself," Vindis declared, "I am not leaving the air conditioned starship for this miserable, smelly climate!"
"It is as you have said," Calaverous added his two credits to Wrehn, "We aren't getting paid, and even if we were it would be a mere pittance out of those very meager quarter million credits," then with a wry smile, he added, "Although, I remember once thinking what a large sum of credits a quarter million were to me just a short while ago."
The Sith lord could see the displeased, pointed looks Yehw'reh'nomai was getting from some of her subordinates, but he wasn't curious enough to ask what that was about until one of them fairly exploded.
"We're going through All Nine Hells for chump change! It's only a quarter million credits!" Gault complained loudly. Angrily slapping the large portable cooler on its grav-sled, he added, "I can't believe I didn't try harder to talk you out of this, you credit grasping Hutt wannabe!"
"I'm credit grasping?!" Wrehn shot back, "You, of all people can call me credit grasping?!"
"Well, Boss," Mako chimed in, clearly displeased, "You made a really big payday, and have another huge bonus waiting in the small cooler on the ship. But here we are, in this miserable smelly, muggy, heat, on this miserable planet to collect a miserly quarter million."
Mako had nothing but bad memories of Hutta. Mako lived on this planet for years, trapped and unable to escape. She saw her chance at escape when she began working for a bounty hunter named Braden Gershaw, whom she ended up adoring as a father figure.
A momentary pang of grief and anger struck her as she remembered his murder at the hands of a Mandalorian competing against them in the Great Hunt on this planet. She hated this place with a passion and knew that her friend, Wrehn, knew it, too.
"I remember how excited you guys used to get when we got quarter million credit bounty heads," Wrehn replied, sadly shaking her head at her crew, "Look what a big pile of credits has done to you guys. You've lost your hunger for the hunt."
Her crew laughed at the joke, and the topic seemed to be dropped as Wrehn and her crew began shuffling off towards the entryway of the landing pad. The very distant sounds of intense combat was just outside of their consciousnesses.
Vindis had already retreated to her air conditioned ship quarters. Meanwhile Calaverous and the starship crew sat on the ramp in the shade of the starship. They watched as the bounty hunters made their way into the spaceport concourse a few hundred meters away. Torian and Gault grunted as they manhandled the grav-sled through the doorway of the concourse entrance, one pushing while the other pulled.
"Well, we're here, and we're going to collect!" Wrehn said, out of the blue, as though the discussion hadn't paused, "This measly quarter million," she said, using air quotes, "will cover some of my expenses, so that I don't have to dip too much into my... big... payday... to cover those costs."
Her strong tone trailed off, as she finally understood what a waste of time going for those quarter million credits actually were. Mako and Gault angrily eyed her, realizing that their employer finally understood what a colossal waste of time it was.
However, their friendship had grown strong over the years. So, neither of them could make themselves leave her side. Somehow, even Gault felt as though he owed her the courtesy of his continued presence.
The crew stepped through the hatchway as they exited the expansive sunken-open-pit styled landing bay which could accommodate up to four starships. They entered a long, narrow, slightly inclined, and less than brightly lit passageway. The distant sounds of combat, which hadn't even registered in their consciousnesses, were cut off as the automatic doors slid shut.
The bounty hunter crew shuffled along, manhandling the bulky cooler on its grav-sled up the slope of the long passageway with Skadge lending a hand. Finally the crew arrived to the end of the passageway, where it suddenly opened to the side of a long, wide corridor.
The wide, brightly lit corridor seemed to go endlessly in both directions. It was crowded with sentient beings of a multitude of species. A small handful were ships' crews; most were paying passengers. Depending on whom one spoke to, a regrettable number of them were cargo.
The cargo were slaves with slave collars at the backs of their necks and escorted by armed guards. They were bought and sold like products and were being shipped to their new owners' planets, mostly within Hutt Space. Sales were good.
An equal number of droids mechanically shuffled along to and fro, on a myriad number of tasks. The droids were, everyone of them, in some level of disrepair. They were grimy with dirt stuck onto lubricating grease leaking from joints and service valves.
These droids were worked until they broke, quickly repaired, and just as quickly returned to service. Eventually, the droids would be scrapped for parts, or simply trashed to have its materials recycled. Droids in Hutt Space rarely lasted more than five galactic standard years.
From memory, the crew all turned right. They walked past long lines of travelers at ticket counters, and past much shorter lines of pilots at launch coordinator booths. They also passed by many entrances to passageways which led to other landing bays, almost identical to the one their waiting chartered starship was in.
The crew of famous bounty hunters walked many long kilometers, there were no people movers here, before reaching the end of the long concourse and exiting the spaceport. Wrehn and her team walked down the ramp of the spaceport's main entrance towards a giant park lot and many taxi kiosk stations.
After their long silent walk through the massive, bustling and rowdy spaceport, and after exiting, Torian finally had his say.
"At the very least," the Mandalorian traditionalist said, trying to salvage some positivity about their situation, "It can never be said that the Grand Champion of The Great Hunt has ever picked up a contract for a bounty head and never delivered."
"Yeah!" Wrehn shouted, suddenly enthusiastically re-energized by Torian's take on the matter.
"I've brought in every bounty head I went after!" she exulted, before adding a bit weakly, "Even if it did take eight years to find him."
"We were lucky to run into Orlo," Gault reminded her, "We weren't looking for him."
"Looking for him or running into him," Wrehn countered, "We're bringing him in for the bounty, and that gives me a hundred percent track record of finding my bounty heads."
"Like that's going to matter after we turn in the chancellor's head!" Gault chided, reminding her, "We're retiring after that, and starting new lives, remember?"
That reminder suddenly brought everyone's spirits back down again. For a few moments, each member of the crew had descended into introspective contemplation, until Skadge spoke.
"Maybe we can have one last blast of fun before it all ends," he said, in a hopeful tone, "Looks like those guys are gonna challenge us to a fight."
Suddenly, Wrehn's, and everyone of her crew's adrenaline shot through the roof, realizing they were about to be ambushed. Each of the crew furiously, mentally kick themselves for badly dropping their guard.
"The blasted bounty on your head," Gault breathed out, disgustedly, to Wrehn, "They're after your blasted bounty!"
Torian hit a control switch that let the grav-sled drop down onto the ramp, grounding it to a halt on the long, shallow sloped surface. He then retrieved his weapon from its rack on the back of his cuirass, as did Gault. Mako, weapon already at the ready, aimed in on the assembly of thugs.
Skadge only laughed as he detached his blaster cannon from its bracket on the back of his heavily armored cuirass. He gleefully set the firing controls as Gault and Torian drew their weapons and powered them up. Wrehn grabbed her twin blaster pistols from their holsters, and quickly inspected them before powering up her custom made overpowered weapons.
"Ready for some fun, Skadge?" Wrehn asked grimly, in a low tone, a snarl on her face.
"Oh, yeah!" he replied, a big grin on his wide Houk face.
His Xen-Tantriks PK-2700-B twenty seven millimeter nyodyne crystal, recoilless three barreled rotary blaster cannon, made a high pitched buzzing sound as the capacitors charged up. His blaster cannon was leveled at the target and ready to fire.
"Give the word, Wrehn," Skadge said, his blood lust rising, "I'm ready."
The ad hoc group of bounty hunters had quickly teamed up when a few of them recognized Wrehn in her open-faced wide-brimmed turtle shell helmet. When they saw her team preparing to fire, they scattered in a ripping hurry, taking cover wherever they could. Wrehn's team already gained a reputation from the news coverage.
"I'm only gonna give you people one chance!" she shouted down the long ramp at the hunters peaking up over the long mud brick wall, "Back off and disappear!"
"Yeah! Sure, Billion Credit Bounty Head!" the presumed ad hoc group leader shouted back, "We'll disappear, after we collect your head! We'll disappear to Republic Space to claim your bounty!"
His fellow ad hoc bounty hunter partners laughed at his joke.
"Let 'em have it, Skadge," Wrehn ordered grimly.
"Heh…," was the Houk's only reply as he complied.
The cannon whirred as the three barrels spun up, quickly picking up speed. A quarter second later, the massive weapon began to belch out three hundred bolts per minute, each of the three barrels firing off a hundred bolts per minute, or one and a half bolts per second, per barrel.
Skadge laughed gleefully, fully enjoying himself, as hundreds of bolts exploded across the seventy yard long, five foot high wall, blasting chips of hardened mud brick off of the foot thick wall. On the opposite side of the wall, the fifteen members of the ad hoc bounty hunter group were getting blasted by the spall from the brick wall. Those with inadequate armor protection immediately suffered from multiple cuts and puncture wounds from the jagged edges of the brick fragments slashing or penetrating into their exposed skins, hides, or scales.
Gault, Torian, and Mako began taking aimed shots at anyone who dared to stick any part of their anatomy or their weapons above the top, or sides, of the wall, as Skadge continued to let them have it.
While her team fired up the fifteen bounty hunters, Wrehn looked around for cover, but couldn't find any usable cover nearby for her team. They were exposed halfway down the ramp from the exit of the massive spaceport.
Sooner rather than later, she knew, the hunters would rush out from behind the wall and charge up the ramp at her team.
"It looks like we have to close in on 'em and finish this up close!" Wrehn shouted to her team, over the racket of weapons fire, before ordering, "Torian, launch grenades! Skadge, take down that wall! Gault, Mako, keep taking aimed shots to keep their heads down!"
Wrehn's crew spread out on the ramp as they carried out their tasks. Skadge, necessarily had to cease firing to make adjustments to his weapon's settings. The hunters immediately stuck their heads up and began to unleash a barrage of blaster bolts at Wrehn's team. This condition did not last very long, however.
After quickly completing his adjustments to his blaster cannon, Skadge took aim and fired a single bolt that sounded like the crack of an artillery blaster. The cannon fired off the single greatly overpowered bolt of energy, advancing the rotating barrel assembly to position the next barrel for the next shot.
Down range, a hundred meters away, a section of wall explosively fragmented, throwing large pieces of mud brick and mortar in all directions while leaving a hole in the wall big enough for five Skadges, walking side by side, to comfortably squeeze through. It was a rather big hole!
The fragmenting mud brick and mortar immediately caused serious injuries to the hunters near the blast. It immediately killed the poor fellow directly on the opposite side of the wall from the blast point.
Seconds after that, Torian let loose his first rifle propelled grenade. The high explosive fragmentation grenade exploded a meter off the ground only two meters behind the wall. The ad hoc bounty hunter group were poorly equipped, wearing a mix of armor types. Some, clearly were not ready for this fight and suffered immediately of serious shrapnel wounds and concussive blast injuries and terrible burns.
"Forward, medium speed!" Wrehn shouted.
Her team began to advance, walking down the wide ramp at a brisk pace. With the members pausing momentarily for aimed shots.
Skadge's weapon made a loud, high pitched buzzing sound as the weapon charged up for its next shot.
BOOOM!
The Houk's Xen-Tantriks PK-2700-B fired another bolt, followed by the loud buzzing sound of capacitors piling up another charge of energy for the next barrel that rotated into place. Meanwhile, the previous barrel and its capacitors began cooling as fans blew high pressure air across the discharged capacitors and the barrel.
Uuuuweeeeeeeeeiiiiiiiiiiiii – BOOOM!
Another bolt fired!
KRAABOOOM!
Another huge section of wall fragmented explosively!
Torian fired a second grenade behind a different section of wall. This time, the surviving and lightly wounded ad hoc group of hunters scattered, abandoning their positions behind the wall. They ran for all they were worth.
Now exposed to Wrehn's team, Gault, Mako, and Wrehn began firing quickly aimed shots. Torian quickly reconfigured his blaster rifle to shoot full powered blaster bolts, again. A few more hunters went down from Gault's, Mako's and Wrehn's aimed shots. Torian managed to get off two hurriedly aimed shots, but missed both times.
The ad hoc group started fifteen strong, but only six escaped with light to negligible injuries, as they ducked and scattered behind parked speeders in the giant park lot. Wrehn could see that the few that made their escape kept on going and were not regrouping.
"Cease firing!" Wrehn ordered.
BOOOM!
Skadge fired his last overpowered bolt.
KRAABOOOM!
The fourth and final big hole opened up as fragments flew out in all directions from the now partially destroyed wall.
Skadge quickly canceled the next capacitor charge up, using the safing feature to discharge the capacitors without the need to fire another bolt.
Wrehn's team carefully, but quickly, approached the remnants of the crumbling and collapsing wall. Pieces of the wall were teetering and falling over as the team approached the last few meters.
Wrehn's crew carefully, tactically, rushed to the left end of the ruined wall and peeked behind it. There, they saw the unlucky wounded hunters, writhing on the ground and moaning in terrible agony. A few among them lay still, already dead.
Ordinarily, Wrehn would have ordered her team to move on and bypass the wounded, but this was Hutta. She had to make a statement. So, she grimly walked behind the broken wall, shooting the surviving wounded to death.
Mako looked on in disapproval, but she kept silent. This was Hutta; it was one of the things she most hated about the planet. If her friend hadn't had done it, it would have made she and her team look weak, and it would have encourage other weak gunmen to, again, try their luck on Wrehn's team.
Needless to say, word had gotten out. Yehw'reh'nomai was on Hutta, and she'd already wiped a large team of hunters.
Each time the news was repeated, it took on an ever growing scale of epicness. The explosions got bigger. The gang of defeated hunters got larger and tougher. By the time word had reached Nem'ro, Yehw'reh'nomai had gained a few new nicknames, and the power of her team had also grown.
"Glorious and most fearsome Nem'ro, someone has come to you with a wonderful gift! The billion credit bounty head, Yehw'reh'nomai the Destroyer of Worlds, has landed in your spaceport! It is said she leads her army to your city!"
There were some, in Nem'ro's court who had better, more accurate information, and the leader of this group corrected the exaggeration.
"The Grand Champion of The Great Hunt approaches with her team of five in a cargo speeder."
Nem'ro nodded his acknowledgment to the bearer of the more accurate report. These Mandalorians of Clan Tortomii were expensive to have on his payroll, but they proved to be more than reliable. He didn't like their lack of respect for his station, but they were Mandalorians. They tended to be cool and aloof in their interactions with anyone they dealt with.
The Hutt returned his attention to his courtiers, and put on a little display of carefree power.
"A billion credits?!" the corpulent Hutt asked in his guttural, grunting language. Smugly, he added, "Huh! Huh! Huh! Huh! How generous of her! Bring me her gift, her billion credit head! The one who brings it to me shall get a tenth of the reward! Huh! Huh! Huh! Huh!"
The park was now under his complete control. Sadly, the residential towers surrounding the park were filled with Mandalorian civilians who chose to fight from their homes. As the Republic troops pushed the regular Mandalorian fighters out of the park, the residents began to fire from their homes.
It was necessary for his troops to enter the residential buildings and to clear these combatants from the towers. Shockingly, the fighters were small children, the elderly, and any infirm able to wield a blaster rifle or pistol.
General Gahred Stahn felt disgust at Ymmiir, until he considered, that this was their home. They were fighting to defend their homes.
"Blast that Ymmiir! He should have known this would be the result! He shouldn't have needlessly imperiled his people like this!"
Earlier, General Stahn had also given the residential towers, the sub-buildings at the boundary of the park a more careful inspection from a safe location behind cover. The Mandalorians had welded a web of durasteel beams in between the sub-buildings and from the sub-building rooftops to the mega ceiling above. It was why his dropships could not penetrate deeper into the mega floor, and why they were forced to land at the park.
Now, in his headquarters in a prefabricated fortified bunker, he carefully looked over the many dozens of reports on his desk, which caused him to realize that every civilian was armed and was going to fight. Also, in the reports was the fact that the Mandalorian fighting units had not conducted any of their operations from within the residential towers. The regular armed combatants fought from store fronts, utility closets, and purpose built fortifications, but they stayed out of the residences in the upper floors.
"Ymmiir isn't using his civilians as human shields, but the civilians are putting themselves in danger," he conceded.
Another thing he picked up on, from the reports, was that not every civilian of every residential tower shot out of their windows at Republic forces. There were entire blocks where the civilians did not shoot out of their windows at the Republic, but they could be plainly seen with weapons at the ready.
"So, they aren't required to fight, but some have taken it upon themselves to do so anyway," General Stahn concluded, "They are not part of Sharratt's active defensive effort, but they are ready to fight if pressed."
Because Ymmiir's forces were, themselves, staying out of the residential towers, he ordered his forces to stay out of the residential towers as well. Instead, his troops only had permission to shoot into specific windows from which snipers had been positively identified.
In the meantime, his combat engineers had gained access to the false floor beneath the main mega-floor. They had to cut through several thick durasteel walls to move underneath the Mandalorian fighting units, to gain their rear areas. This part of the operation would take some hours to complete as they had to move several kilometers through the utilities and spaces beneath the main streets and walkways before exiting to their enemy's rear.
The troop transports had returned, landing another division of troops. The enemy were already out numbered, but the enemy enjoyed home advantage, and the battle was on urban terrain, which gave the Mandalorians the decided advantage. The only way to take this advantage away from them was with even greater numbers, while attacking from multiple directions, and the surprise he had cooked up for them.
"Thank The Stars," he whispered to himself, "that their religion eschews the use of combat droids."
Ymmiir listened to a report from one of his adjutants.
"I think we've managed to calm the fighting spirit of our people, Clan Chief," the officer reported, "The people have largely stopped shooting at the invaders. However, there are still a few who insist on taking shots at the enemy from their windows."
"It is essential that the Republic not be drawn into the towers. We must keep the enemy in the streets, or our plans will fail," Ymmiir stressed, "Send word to every officer to send messengers to order the home defenders to not engage the enemy unless the enemy is inside of their homes!"
"Yes, Clan Chief!"
The adjutant took off at a dead run to carry out his task.
"What is the enemy's headquarters doing, Captain Mwaaraawn Bruuga Sharratt?" Ymmiir asked his military intelligence officer, a Kaleesh warrior from House Bruuga.
Ymmiir studied the map of the park region of the mega-floor as he listened to the report.
"They are reinforcing their position in the park, Clan Chief," the intelligence officer reported. He shook his head in a quick jerk to express his mild disgust, "Digging them out will be much more costly to us, now."
"Good," Ymmiir thought, "If he thinks this, so does the Republic commander," aloud, he asked, "Have you discovered who the enemy commander is?"
"He is General Gahred Stahn, Clan Chief. He is a hero to the Galactic Republic, having liberated one of their worlds, Ord Mantel, from Sith Empire control. The Sith thought they'd won the planet, but he had tricked the rebels into over extending themselves. He then struck hard, burning through the rebellion's thinly stretched out battle lines and their over extended supply lines.
"The Sith tried to reverse the damage the overconfident rebellion commanders had created. They supplied even larger amounts of weapons and gave other overly generous material support to the rebels. The Sith even embedded Imperial Army officers, disguised as rebellion officers, into the rebellion command structure to take command of rebellion military operations on Ord Mantel.
"This strategy availed the Sith Empire of nothing, Clan Chief. General Gahred Stahn ultimately defeated the rebels while capturing many Imperial Army officers."
"Then he is a worthy enemy for us to test ourselves against," Ymmiir replied, nodding with a small hint of pride, "The enemy are taking us seriously. We must not shame ourselves. The enemy must not laugh at our deaths, but rue taking up arms against us."
After studying the map of the three hundred and fifteenth mega-floor, for a bit longer, he nodded his satisfaction.
"Move my headquarters, to this neighborhood," he ordered, pointing where on the map.
"Yes, Clan Chief," his operations officer, Captain Gormahtt Sharratt replied, a bit confused, "However, the enemy haven't made a move on us, yet. Why move so soon?"
"Oh, you're quite right," Ymmiir replied, adding with heavy sarcasm, "I should wait for the enemy to completely surround us, first, and cut off our escape!"
The operations officer took a second look at the map and the unit markings showing the locations of the clashes between Sharratt and Republic forces. He became greatly mortified after realizing that he had missed the subtle, movements of enemy forces in the streets of the three hundred and fifteenth mega-floor.
"I see it now, Clan Chief," the operations officer confessed in a subdued tone.
"If you make another mistake like this again, Captain Gormahtt Sharratt, I shall reassign you to lesser duties."
"Yes, Clan Chief," Captain Gormahtt Sharratt, Ymmiir's son, replied earnestly, "I will not make another such mistake."
Ymmiir nodded his head, turned about and made for the exit of his headquarters.
General Gahred Stahn made a facial expression that flashed on and off again. No one saw him make it, except for his intelligence officer who was looking at the general as he gave his report.
"Then we are not dealing with a simple tactician," General Stahn commented at the conclusion of the report, "We cannot under estimate Ymmiir Sharratt."
"Perhaps we should be more direct, General," his operations officer suggested, "If we can determine his precise location, we could just direct a heavy artillery rocket bombardment on his head. It's less artful, blunt, but why not give it a try?"
"Because if he survives the bombardment, it will drive him into better hiding from us, and we won't find him again," the general replied, "I want to be sure we get him. Otherwise our victory will be too costly. That will be a victory for them, and hardly a win for us."
"You don't think we're winning, General?" the operations officer, a female Neimoidian asked, perplexed at the general's viewpoint.
"You don't see it, Colonel Braildey?" General Stahn asked, becoming rankled by what he perceived as the operations officer's blindness, "You don't see what the enemy are doing?"
The colonel's brow crinkled almost imperceptibly, a mannerism which is comparable to when a human blinks in mild surprise. She was a bit taken aback at the general's sharp tone towards her.
She took a closer look at the map and studied the situation carefully.
"We're driving them back, they are losing territory due to our superior firepower and numbers…," Colonel Braildey said, in her tri-chord modulated voice, before being cut off.
"Are they being driven back, Colonel?" General Stahn asked sharply, "Are we pushing them back, or are they leading us along?"
The colonel took another look at the digital map, with all of the digital symbols plotting friendly and enemy positions and activities.
"Don't just look at the map! Haven't you been listening to the after action reports coming in from the front lines?" Their loss of territories does not match their casualty rates! There aren't enough of their dead or captured wounded to account for why they're giving up real estate!"
As Colonel Braildey reached for the datapads with the battle reports from the front lines, General Stahn gave her new orders.
"After you get a sense for what the enemy are doing, I want you to come up with a counter for when they spring their trap. I hope you understand, now. We are being drawn into a trap. Find their trap and have a plan ready for us to foil it."
"Yes, General," Colonel Braildey answered, completely humiliated that she didn't see it until the general pointed it out for her.
"He will spring his trap in this open area," General Stahn said, pointing where on the map.
He then turned about and walked out of the Operations Section of his headquarters. General Gahred Stahn made his way to the designated landing zone in the park. Earlier in the briefing he was informed that the third wave of his forces was about to arrive.
General Stahn wanted to greet the general who was about to arrive with the third wave. This general commanded the division he'd assigned to the special operation which was the trap he was setting up to destroy Clan Sharratt, and he needed to brief his subordinate commander to what his part was.
Meanwhile, Colonel Clarady Braildey looked at the huge open space labeled, Mandalorian Combat Training Center. She opened a datapad with aerial reconnaissance images of the huge open area which used to be a park, but which had been transformed into a combat training facility for their fighters.
The first image was marked Secret: Manta Eyes Only. The image was about a month old. The metallic structures were a miniaturized version of the Supreme Chancellor's official mansion and the surrounding neighborhood. In an inset, at the upper left corner of the image, was a satellite image of the Supreme Chancellor's official residence and the neighborhood for comparison.
In the main part of the image, a thin red arrow pointed at two figures standing off to the side of the training facility. She manipulated the image to magnify the figures. It was an image of Ymmiir Sharratt and Yehw'reh'nomai overseeing the training sometime before their attack on the supreme chancellor's official residence.
A different image of the training facility, taken only a few hours before, showed that the entire training facility had been transformed. It was now full of heavy metallic bunkers fortified with sandbags.
It was assumed that Clan Sharratt would make their last stand there, but General Stahn told her he believed it was a trap.
Now, she would have to come up with a strategy to avoid the trap – whatever that was – while not giving away that Clan Sharratt's trap had been detected.
Wrehn ordered the cargo speeder van driver to stop outside of the gates of Jiguuna. The driver, a Rodian male, became extremely nervous. He feared being killed, but worse than that, he feared his passengers wouldn't pay the agreed upon fee for his services.
A short time later, however, his deep worries melted away as he drove his speeder van off, properly paid, and well tipped. The best part was that he and his assistant driver didn't have to load and unload Wrehn's cooler and grav-sled. His customers had done it themselves.
Gault and Torian, again pushed and pulled their bounty head in the large bulky portable cooler. However, this time, Wrehn's entire team were on full alert. Their weapons were all powered up. In the case of Wrehn, Mako, and Skadge, their weapons were also at the ready, heads on a swivel, eyes scanning every nook and cranny, and scrutinizing every individual they saw as they entered the gates of Jiguuna.
Their behavior, walking down the dusty, cratered, dirt road of the main thoroughfare wasn't unusual. Bounty groups, gangs of thugs, and other operators who'd just entered the city of Jiguuna always exhibited some level of paranoia upon return from a particularly violent operation. Many ambushes had occurred in the last moments as bounty hunters approached Nem'ro's palace. These ambushes were often perpetrated by rival groups attempting to steal their bounty heads or their cargoes of illicit goods.
Not everyone had their eyes and ears open to the news of the wider galaxy. So, it was understandable that the throngs of pirate gangs, black market goods sellers at their stalls, and others did not recognize Wrehn and her crew. Wrehn developed a bad feeling, however, and so did Torian.
"This is a good spot for an ambush," the traditionalist Mandalorian told his employer.
"Yeah," Wrehn agreed, before ordering her crew, "Let's go into the cantina, people."
"Oh, blast it all!" Mako breathed out angrily, "The Poison Pit Cantina. Of course we'd have to go there!"
"What's wrong with that Cantina?" Gault asked, his curiosity piqued, "Are their drinks that bad?"
"Bad memories. Ask Mako about it later," Wrehn answered before adding brusquely, "Now pay attention around you! I've got a bad feeling right now."
"Hey! You can't bring that thing in here!" a Weequay bouncer announced at the door.
Mako walked up to the Weequay and pointed her blaster rifle into the bouncer's face.
"Out of the way, Scraddoo! I'm in a bad mood, and don't want to argue about this."
"Mako? Mako, is that you?" Scraddoo inquired as though happy to see a long lost friend.
"I guess this scrub is hard of hearing," Skadge said to Mako as he leveled his blaster cannon on the Weequay.
"I'm moving! I'm moving!" the Weequay insisted as he hopped out of the way.
Torian and Gault proceeded to maneuver the bulky cooler on its grav-sled through the Cantina's entrance. Meanwhile, Wrehn walked to the Weequay and pointed one of her blaster pistols at the bouncer's face.
"Yehw'reh'nomai!" Scraddoo declared, as though happy to see an old friend, "You and Mako haven't been back since you hit the big time! What? You two too important to come by and see the little fish every once in awhile?"
"Get inside Scraddoo," Wrehn ordered, "Close the door."
"Wait! What do you mean close the door?" Scraddoo objected, "We're open for business and…"
Scraddoo finally realized that Wrehn was pointing a blaster in his face and not smiling. In the past, she usually smiled at him while threatening him with death.
"Yehw'reh'nomai, why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, bewildered, "I never done you no wrong."
"Um, Scraddoo is it?" Gault asked by way of gaining the Weequay's attention, "Maybe you've been doing this job for too long. I don't know, but don't you get the sense that maybe the reason we're coming in here, guns out is because there might be a bit of…, I don't know…, trouble outside?"
"There's always trouble outside," the Weequay replied as though Gault were a newb, "I'm here to keep it out."
"Friend," Torian said with an amused look on his face, "We are the trouble. We're in, and we're taking over the cantina. That's why she told you to close the door."
"Can I just blast him, Wrehn?" Skadge asked, waiting for permission.
"Nah," Wrehn said, "you can't blast him, Skadge." Rather coldly, she added with a scowl, "I like Scraddoo, because he's gonna close the door."
The Weequay finally understood the situation. He shook his head with a sad expression as he closed and locked the door.
"Dommy won't like this, Yehw'reh'nomai," Scraddoo said, adding with real concern in his tone, "You know how Dommy gets when guests disrupt his business."
"I'll give Dommy a nice gift and apologize later," the Chiss hunter replied, sounding sincere as she holstered her blaster.
The Weequay shrugged his shoulders and walked into the cantina interior.
"I'll buy you a drink, later," Wrehn said to Scraddoo's back.
He turned his head, smiled and gave a wave as he continued to make his way to the management office to report the situation.
"Skadge, Gault, you two stay here," Wrehn ordered, "Guard the door and our bounty head. Torian, Mako, with me."
Inside The Poison Pit Cantina's main saloon, Wrehn fired a single bolt, at normal power, from her pistol into the hard packed dirt floor a couple of meters from where she and anyone else stood. That got the band to stop playing and the attention of the patrons inside.
"I'll pay you five hundred credits each, if you join me for a fight out on the street!" Wrehn announced.
There were no takers.
"Come on, people," Wrehn said, trying to reason with them, "five hundred credits is a good payday for a quick job."
"Inflation," one anonymous patron countered.
"I've got debts to pay," another said, "Rent's due."
"A thousand," another anonymous patron added.
Wrehn knew time was short and the patrons had the advantage in these negotiations.
"Fine," Wrehn said, disgustedly, "a thousand."
The patrons all got to their feet and began to gather on the hard dirt dance floor.
"Line up and show me your gear!" Wrehn ordered, "If I like what I see, I'll hire you!"
Those with a relatively good blaster, she directed to Mako.
"Tell her your name and account details so that you can get paid later," Wrehn told those she'd hired.
There were only four whom she refused to hire. Not only were they armed with barely functional blaster pistols, but they were delirious with spice, utterly useless. Yet, she managed to hire seventy eight thugs who were in various stages of intoxication, but still somewhat useful.
However, it was the brute who stood before her, who somewhat surprised her as though he'd suddenly materialized out from nothing. The monster glared down unhappily at her, and that got her full attention.
"Hi, Dommy," the Chiss woman said, brightening her face with her best customer service smile, "You look really great!"
The massive Houk standing in front of her made Skadge look like a juvenile. That was partly because she wouldn't let Skadge workout in the gym. She also remembered Skadge telling her that he wasn't yet matured. This, despite his already monstrous size.
"Come to my office," he ordered in his deep gravelly voice.
Wrehn had no choice. This was his cantina and she was his guest. Scraddoo closed the door behind them as Dommy sat in his enormous, heavy duty office chair behind his outsized ruggedly constructed metal desk.
"Why'd you close my cantina?" he asked as though he actually expected an explanation.
"Did Scraddoo tell you I was gonna give you a nice gift and apologize to you?" Wrehn replied, still wearing her customer service smile.
"I'll forgive you for a hundred K, Yehw'reh'nomai," Dommy said, as though there was no need for negotiations.
Wrehn's smile cracked under the strain of that price tag.
"Dommy, that's a bit unreasonable, I was prep…"
"I saw you on the news Yehw'reh'nomai," the mountain of a Houk told her, cutting her off, "I know what you're worth. So does Nem'ro. These louts you hired were too hopped up on spice and booze to know anything. As soon as they find out though, they'll turn on you.
"Lucky for you," Dommy said, getting straight to the point, "I don't like Nem'ro, so I'll forgive you for a hundred K."
"When you put it that way, Dommy," Wrehn said, with real gratitude, "How can I say no to you?"
"Since you're being so generous," Dommy said, with his no nonsense gruffness, "How about a nice tip for my doorman? He gave you such great customer service. He should get a little something."
"Well," Wrehn said at the edge of losing her cool, "I did put you on the spot with your boss, Scraddoo. I'll give you a thousand credits, and I'll still buy you that drink."
"Ah! Come on, Yehw'reh'nomai, I think….," Scraddoo was saying but was cut off by Dommy.
"Scraddoo says thank you, Yehw'reh'nomai. Scraddoo is glad you put in a good word for him, because he won't lose his job even though he let you close the door."
"Uh… Yeah, Yehw'reh'nomai," Scraddoo said, changing his tune, "Thank you, Yehw'reh'nomai. You're the best."
"Sure Scraddoo. No sweat," Wrehn said, playing her part.
Wrehn got on her audio only transceiver, "Mako, come to the office and get Dommy's account information. I'm giving him a hundred K."
"A hundred thousand?!" Mako exclaimed, "You're paying that much?!"
"Yeah," Wrehn answered, a wry grin on her face, "He sure is a forgiving sort. It could have been worse."
A moment later, a politely urgent knock sounded on the office door. Dommy hit a contact on his desk and the door slid open. Mako quickly scanned the room with her eyes and her embedded cybernetic sensors.
Torian, standing behind her at the ready, also scanned the office with his eyes. They found Scraddoo standing near the door, Dommy sitting behind his desk, and their employer sitting in a chair at the side of the office with a pleasant smile plastered on her face.
"Smiling like that has to be killing you," Mako said, deadpan.
Dommy pointed at the top of his desk.
"Here's my credit card," he said, to the point, "Just put the credits in there. I don't have to give you my account details."
Mako turned her head to look Wrehn in the eyes.
"A hundred K, Mako," Wrehn said with a nod, adding, "and Scraddoo gets a thousand credit tip."
When all accounts had been settled, Wrehn dropped the smile and became businesslike.
"Dommy, I'm sorry for being rude, here, but I've got to say hello to Nem'ro."
The mountain of a Houk became genuinely curious.
"You know, Yehw'reh'nomai, Nem'ro's not as forgiving as I am. You really just gonna go over there and say hello?"
"Yeah," Wrehn said, not mincing her words, "If he says hello back, I'll do business with him. If he gets any other ideas, I'll turn him into a burnt smear on his sofa."
"What kind of business you got with Nem'ro?" Dommy asked, still curious.
"I'm bringing in a bounty head, and I'm gonna collect," she said, pointedly.
"Ah! The cooler blocking my door," Dommy said, putting two and two together, "Come back for a drink on the house when you're done over there – one drink only."
Wrehn got to her feet and made her way to the door.
"Let's go," she told Mako and Torian as she exited Dommy's office.