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To Hunt the Hunter (NaomiDavidxSzor)

S

Szor

Super-Earth
Joined
Jul 31, 2017
Location
Florida
Nar Shaddaa, the smuggler's moon, a planet of scum and villainy, but proud of it. It was the darker, more griddy version of Coruscant. Which was saying a lot when you consider the lower levels of the capital planet. But he certainly wouldn't be able to do what he was doing now, all but dragging a screaming man to his doom. Hutts were disgusting creatures, but they pay well when it comes to bringing in bounties alive.

The towering Mandalorian in midnight blue armor pulled the man, still pleading to his captors, to meet the Hutt who paid for his capture. "One screaming di'kut, as requested." He said as lifted a foot, putting it on the flank of the man attempting to getting to his feet, and kick him over. The metal studs on his boots dug into the side as he was kicked, and the man let out a yelp. "What as it, fifty thousand credits?" His voice came out metallic and menacing.

The Hutt laughed, looking down at the bounty. "Fifty thousand, as agreed, Dral." The Hutt said in basic, waving a slave to walk over to the bounty hunter, holding a chest. She opened the chest, and Dral looked it over although he knew it was all there. He had never known this Hutt to cheat him. He closed the chest, taking it from the slave. "And have a round on me, Mandalorian. You looked like you might be thirsty."

The Mandalorian chuckled. "You are too kind, your Excellency." He bowed slightly, taking a step back before turning and walking to the bar. Although he wasn't really thirsty and really just wanted to leave the planet, it would be an insult to the Hutt if he didn't have a drink. And although he hated Hutts, he appreciated their patronage and what they pay. He sat down at the bar, setting the chest next to him, and took his helmet off. He put the helmet on top of the chest. His grey eyes looked at the bartender, who held up a finger, telling the Mandalorian he would be a moment.

He was very rugged looking, his skin was tanned and weathered. He had a long scar running down the right side of his face from his eyebrow to his jaw line. His nose was broken at one point, and never bothered to get it fix. The bartender walked up to him. "Black ale, please." He said, his grey eyes meeting the bartender's. He pointed at the the Hutt. "First round is on him." The tender nodded, walking away. Dral pulled a datapad from his belt, looking down at it as he waited for his ale.
 
There was another Mandalorian in the bar that Dral was in, and this Mandalorian happened to be female. Like wise, her armor also happened to be blue, but hers was more of a primary shade of blue than his. Another difference was that her armor had gold painted onto it. Blue signified reliability. Gold signified vengeance, or rather, the desire for vengeance. She wanted revenge on her mark, and she knew she needed help. Her mark was a Sith assassin that had gotten the drop on her and her partner. Not a romantic partner, but a very good friend of hers none the less. What burned her so much was that she could use the Force, she was at a Jedi Master's level of the Force, despite never having any formal training, she was self taught.. She could use the Force at such a high level and she and her buddy got ambushed and he ended up dead. It was true what the Jedi said, the Dark Side clouded one's vision.

She spotted the person that she wanted help from. She knew he would be expensive, which was why she also carried a chest. But this chest was far larger than the one that the Hutt had given him. And had no credits, but had something far more valuable inside. It was filled to the brim with electrum, a very rare and expensive metal. The amount of electrum in the chest was equivalent to a few million credits to the right buyer. She plunked down the chest next to his chest, making an audible thumping noise. She took off her helmet as well, revealing a very pretty face. She looked like a delicate little doll, what with pale skin, blonde hair, and blue eyes. But her pretty looks were very deceiving. She spoke,"I have a job for you, Dral, payment immediate upon acceptance. Will you accept my job?"
 
His ale had gotten to him as she walked up, dropping her chest next to his. He looked up at her, his grey eyes meeting her blues. He sipped his ale before speaking. "Now." He pointed at her with his glass. "I know you. You're armor is familiar to me." He tilted his head before putting his glass down. "Didn't you serve with me during the Clone Wars with the Seps?" He joked, looking down at the chest, opening it slightly. He whistled, looking back at her.

He closed the chest, slowly looking back at her. "This is serious, huh?" He asked, his joking tone disappeared. He turned back to the chest, opening it back up, looking over the payment. "Could buy a good piece of land with this, build a nice homestead AND buy several of those new Verps." He looked at back at her, closing the chest.

He smiled at her, shaking his head. "What kind of Mando'ade would I be if I said no?" He sipped his ale again. "Drink on a deal? Or do you want to get a move on?" He motioned to the two chests. "We can discuss the details on my ship. I still need to make sure I put these in the ship anyways."
 
She had a faint smile on her face when he said that she was familiar to him, and she spoke,"Perhaps we did serve together. Perhaps not. I've done a good deal of fighting in wars big and small." When he looked at the massive wealth inside of the chest and asked her if this was serious, she nodded. She spoke,"I need help getting rid of a dar'jetii. My first partner and I managed to track him to a place. But we got ambushed instead and he got killed and the dar'jetii fled. I want revenge." A smile graced her lips when he said that he would help. This was very good news to her. She spoke,"I want to get a move on. I do not feel that his soul will rest in peace until he is avenged. I won't feel at peace either until he is avenged."
 
His mood soured when he heard that she was hunting a Sith. He switched to their native language, their communications could be tapped, especially if the Imperials were involved. Not many people knew Mandalorian, and it was too loud to be over heard. "My, a saber jockey." He drank the rest of his ale, holding his hand on top of it to show the tender he didn't want another. "You would think without the Jedi, we would see less and not more."

He chew over his thoughts. "He's hunting you?" He asked, knowing the answer. It was the only reason why a Sith would openly engage a Mandalorian. He had heard that the Emperor was sending out his 'Hands' and 'Inquisitors' out to hunt remaining Jedi and other Force sensitives. He didn't tell her that it was stupid to follow him. "We need to lure him out and ambush him." He smiled a wicked smiled at her. "You came to the right guy."
 
She continued their conversation in their native language, and replied,"Indeed. I always thought it a joke that the evil saber jockeys had ones with blades of blood red. I was wrong." Her face soured when he asked if he was hunting her, and she replied,"It's a game of cat and mouse. Sometimes I am the cat and he the mouse. Sometimes the other way around." She was glad he was getting excited as evidence by that smile of his, and she spoke,"Shall we begin?" She was ready to end this once and for all. She had killed the last assassins sent after her. She had hoped that would have sent the message to leave her alone, and now her buddy was dead.
 
He nodded, picking up his helmet. "Channel five-fifty." He told her, putting on the helmet. The blue helmet was accented by blood red secondary colors and a bronze trim. He waited for her to put his helmet on and saw her join the channel he used. "We need to do some scouting, need a good vantage point, and explosives." He explained, picking up his chests, carrying the bigger of the two under the smaller.

Dral stood up, looking at her. She could tell by his voice he was enjoying the thought of killing a Force user. As if he enjoyed the challenge. "We need to make sure he's alone and thinks you're alone." He explained, walking towards the door. "We have to overwhelm his Force perspective. Show him so many threats that he becomes sluggish. It's how we killed Jedi in the Clone Wars."
 
She nodded when he told her the comm channel they would continue their little discussion on. She put her helmet back on, and continued their talk. She spoke,"I killed Sith warriors with beskar weapons. They don't expect it since precious few things can block a lightsaber. I have a staff made of pure beskar that is sharpened at both ends. All the armor that I have, including the set that I wear right now, is pure beskar." Clan Graymark was extremely wealthy, even by the wealth standards of the super rich on Coruscant. Generations of bounty hunting and proper investments lead to the clan's great wealth. She nodded, and spoke,"I agree. It's how I killed the last few that came after me. But this one... He's wily, smarter than the others."
 
Dral started going through his inventory on his heads-up-display, taking stock of what he had on his Aggressor-class ship. He had plenty of plastic explosives, more than enough to bring down a building, smaller hand-held explosives. Several rifles of both verities. He would probably end up using his Verpine, but setting up an automated rifle help with the distraction.

"You got fuel?" He asked unconsciously, running several trap scenarios. He didn't because he didn't carry a flamethrower or a jet pack. He was a sniper and black operations specialist, relying more on stealth than shock and awe most Mandalorians used. "We could drop a building on him. There are some that are mostly abandoned. Get him on a rooftop with you as bait. You two can do the dueling thing if you want." He shrugged. "Should it look bad for you, you bang out." He made a sound mimicking a sound of an explosion. "We blow him up. Search the rubble for little bitty parts."
 
She was going through her inventory on her own heads-up-display of what was on the ship here, not that this was her only one. Knives of all sorts, even cooking ones. Explosives of all sorts, from things that could wipe out an entire city block to an itty bitty flash bang. Rifles and blasters of all varieties. From her sweetly modified DL-44 to a sweet snier rifle, she had it all. Her pride and joy of her weapons was her beskar staff that was sharpened at both of the ends, made specifically to deal with Jedi and Sith and in between. She replied,"Yeah, I have fuel. Lots of it." She carried it when she occasionally brought her jet pack and or her flamethrower along. She was smiling at him, glad he was so very thorough, and she spoke,"Sounds all well and good. I'm ready when you are."
 
He nodded, approaching his ship. He had landed in one of the Hutt crimelord's hangers, so it wasn't just a short distance away, but it was also secure under the guarantee of the Hutt. The Aggressor sat on it's undercarriage, all buttoned up. It was painted similarly to his armor. For him, the color scheme he chose was more of a personal preference rather than a symbol of what he wanted to show. The midnight shade of blue was really his favorite color. "Well, we have to find some buildings to set up in. One to rig for detonation, three others for remote sniper drones and one for me to perch in. Those buildings have to be higher than the one that we rig." He said, blinking at his ship, and on the command, the hatch opened and he stepped up the ramp.

He looked at his beskar lockbox, blinking it open to put in both of the chests into the lockbox. "Where is that blasted droid." He growled, looking around his ship. As if on cue, an R2 unit rolled over. "Disband previous filters. Add in these filters." He said, opening an arms locker. "Abandoned or near abandoned building surrounded by four or more taller buildings." The droid whistled inquisitively. "Yes, we got another job."
 
She followed him to his ship. Very secure location, given who owned this place. The Empire and its underlings would never dare go after the Hutts. The Hutts and their underlings held a great deal of influence. She noted the ship's details, and noticed that the paint job was similar to Dral's armor. She nodded at is words about the building placement, it all made a good deal of sense. Clan Graymark would welcome him with open arms, brain like that. She could almost hear the nosy questions now. Is he your suitor? Does he have land? Does he come from a respectable family? How many pounds can he carry over a period of time? She followed him onto his ship after the hatch opened up. She watched him put the chests away. The R2 unit that came around was blue. There had been a famous blue unit in the Clone Wars. What was its name? R2-D2? Something like that. She liked astromech droids and protocol droids. They remembered all of the crap she couldn't.
 
He started pulling out rifles, three Imperial standard sniper rifles and a long Verpine. "Don't ask about the Imp rifles, too long of a story." He put the four rifles on the center table, a wooden one like you would find in a traditional Mandalorian homestead. He treated the Verpine with special care, deploying it's bi-pod so it would sit on the table rather lay like the Imperial rifles. "Bee-Three, active Units One through Three, bring them online for sniper suppression." He took off his helmet with a pop, setting it next to his Verpine. Bee-Three whistled in confirmation, and three Separatist Battle Droids activated and walked into the room.

He smiled at her. "May not be rich, but I make do." He chuckled. "Savaged those after the war." He said proudly. His gray eyes looked at her, picking up the Verpine. "What do you need from your ship?" He asked, taking the scope off to inspect it.
 
She whistled when she saw him pull out his artillery, and she spoke,"Shit, I won't ask you how you got your crap if you don't ask me about how I got mine." She watched him go through taking care of his rifles and command his R2 unit to activate his other droids for sniper suppression. She looked impressed when the droids marched into the room, and she spoke,"Amazing what a little bit of care will do to keep things running." She had a thoughtful look on her face, and she spoke,"Well... I need my two DL-44 heavy blaster pistols and the refill cartridges that go with them. I also need my beautifully modified DC-15x sniper rifle with me too. Modded for more magnification and to go automatic if need be. Refill cartridges for that too. Oh yeah, my beskar staff too. Didn't bring it with me to meet you because it draws way too much attention. And I'll need my medpack too, never know what'll happen, so safety first."
 
Dral nodded, looking at the battle droids. He put his scope back on his Verpine before packing up ammunition for the Verpine. He didn't need them, but that doesn't mean that he like using anything he just picked up from the streets. "Take a rifle and head to the locations Bee-Three directs you to." He ordered the droids, standing up. He pulled an antique slug thrower pistol from the arms locker, sliding the action back, popping a round into the chamber with a satisfying click. He put that one into a drop hip holster, and pulled another pistol just like it and repeated the action with that one. "I like my slug throwers." He smiled at her. He grabbed a couple magazines for the two slug throwers, and picked up his helmet, putting it back on.

He looked back into the locker, as if debating something internally. "Fuck it. Bringing the crushgaunts." He said, taking the straps of his gloves. He took both of them off, then picking up the crushgaunts. He pulled one on his hand, flexing his hand once it was attached. "I know, they are illegal. I don't care. They are effective, and we're dealing with light sabers here." He said, pulling the second one on, attaching the second one to his armor.
 
"I'm still heading back to my ship to get my staff at the very least. Built specifically for this sort of situation. My ship's at a difference space port only a block due North of this place." she replied quickly. She'd grab whatever else that would help. This bastard was wily, and she needed to be one step ahead. She spoke,"Huh, haven't seen slug throwers in awhile. My grandparents use them, my parents use them. I know how to use one, but it never felt right in my hands." She looked really impressed with the crush gauntlets. She spoke,"Hot damn, those are beautiful!"
 
He chuckled, flexing the gloves, getting his fingers all the way in them. "Ba'buir gave them to me when someone killed my father, her son. She was too old to go on the hunt, and wanted me to use them to snap the aruestii neck." He made a strangling motion, and she could hear the anger in his voice. "Damn lizards didn't know what was coming when I came after his slaver group at the head of the Bralor clan." He picked up the Verpine, tilting his head sideways.

"Lets head to the target building and rig it up. After that, we will go to your ship and pick up your gear, I won't come with you into your ship." He explained, looking at her, blinking at the activation symbol for the droids. The black droids ran out of the ship and into the night. "I am almost certain he his waiting for you at your ship. I will shadow you and him from the roof tops." He sighed, closing his eyes. "Regardless on whether he follows you or not, you head to the building
 
She looked so lovingly at the gloves, a lovely family heirloom. She could feel his rage in the Force. She wanted to reach her hand out to comfort him, but didn't, worrying that it wasn't a good idea to do so. She nodded, and she spoke,"Works for me." She had a grateful look on her face. She made sure her helmet was on properly, as was the rest of her armor. Nothing could be left to error. He really did so far seem to be a good man.
 
Dral nodded, slinging the Verpine across his back. He picked up the crate of explosives, carrying it down the ramp. "Bee-Three, send me the location of the building, then secure the ship. Full Alpha alert." He said, looking at the blue droid. "If someone tries to force their way in, activate the SBDs." He chuckled, walking out.

As they walked to the building, he looked over at her. "So, mystery woman. Going to give me a name?" He asked teasingly. "Or is that what half of the metal you gave is for, secrecy?" She would be able to hear the smile in his tone, and how he moved his head. "Because I gave up a while ago trying to guess how I know you."
 
She was glad he was such a thorough person, and she followed him off of the ship. When he asked her for her name, she spoke, a definite smile in her voice,"Your name translates to 'bright' in Basic. Pity you didn't figure it out. I am Sabine Graymark." The Graymark clan was highly respected. They had it all.
 
Dral laughed, his laugher indicating that he had heard that joke before. He turned a corner, walking down a long street. "I was adopted, and Dral is my adopted name. Because I had a 'bright and cheery attitude', if you believe my father." He shrugged, looking over his shoulder at her. "And that's why my name isn't 'Mird'." He joked. It was actually a very dry joke, though.

When she told him her clan name, there was that whistle that he had used when he opened his pay chest. "Doesn't that make you the closest thing Mandalore have to like a Baroness." He didn't talk about the New Mandalorians and their murdered Duchess, or even used that title. In his mind, and being a former member of the Death Watch himself, she got what was coming to him. He was just angry that she didn't die by the hand of a Mandalorian. "Fucking bitch." He snarled, cursing both the Duchess and the Sith Lord who killed her.
 
She was glad that she had gotten him to both laugh and smile. Both were very human gestures. She spoke sweetly,"A much higher rank than just a mere Baroness. But yes, the Graymark clan are the closest thing to pure royalty without all the heavy inbreeding. She raised an eyebrow when he insulted the now deceased Duchess Kryze. It did not sit well with her when people insulted the dead, even if they deserved it. She spoke,"I heard that she and the Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi were planning to run off together. Shame they didn't get the chance before she got killed. I respect the fact they were both willing to sacrifice everything they had for love. Very romantic notion." She respected Obi-Wan because from the stories she heard, he was a very wise man. She respected Duchess Kryze because she did her best to keep Mandalore out of the war.
 
He grunted, clearly in disagreement with her. Although he respected the dead, she was dar'manda, no longer a Mandalorian. He hadn't fought with Pre Vizsla's Death Watch, there was some Death Watch members who thought Pre Vizsla was an idiot, but he would have preferred Vizsla clan to the New Mandalorians. He had actually fought with the Mandalorian Protectors under the leadership of the clone deserter Spar. Hand picked by Spar for his covert and black operations talents, he had left the Death Watch before Darth Maul took over.

"If it wasn't for her, Sundari would have never fallen to the Sith." He growled. That was pride speaking, sparked by anger. He stopped, putting the crate down. "Never in Mandalorian history had a Mandalorian city on Mandalore fallen to a foreign invader. That dar'manda allowed corruption and greed seep into Mandalore, making us weak." He held up an open palm, the crushgaunt's beskar glinting in the dim light. "Five thousand years of never having a home city taken by the aruestii. Something neither the Sith or the Republic could say. Something no one could say. And she lost it because she was weak, because she made us weak."

He closed the fist, the metal making a dull clink. "Jaster and Jango would never have allowed that. That is why I respect them even though I fought against the original Protectors." He sighed, crouching to pick up the crate before continuing to the building marked out. "Pre Vizsla was blinded by greed that the dar'manda allowed to breed. Complacency, greed and corruption have no place in our culture." He said, walking up to the building. It was a squat, ugly thing. "We are warriors, look what happened when someone forgot that."
 
She listened to his words in silence. Although she did not agree with him, she would respect his opinion, as it was the polite thing to do. Personally, she thought the Duchess did the best she could given her circumstances. Sabine always tried to see from both sides, that was how she was able to better anticipate moves and such, that way she'd almost never be surprised. She walked along side him, and she spoke,"If anything, Dral... I understand why she would keep Mandalore out of the war. Look at what the war did to the Republic, now the Empire. Look at what it did to the Separatists. Too many people on both sides died for a war that nobody won. Look at the mess that was left behind after the war ended. But enough of that, we have a dar'jetii to kill."
 
He shrugged, letting the matter drop. He and his family felt strongly about the situation, barely tolerating the New Mandalorian. He kicked opened the door opened, looking around the interior of the abandoned apartment building. There was a few piles rubbish, what looked like a bedroll and some personal belongings. "Well, hopefully no one will come here after we set the explosives." He muttered, putting the crate down and drawing one of his pistols. He set his radar on, letting it scan the floors for anyone that might be there as well as the structure's strong points.

"We will have to put the explosives on these supports." He said, sending her the layout. Four of the supports were in the basement, another four on the third floor. "The set on the third floor will have to be detonated a few seconds before the ones in basement. You two have the fight on the roof, I will cover you and provide a distraction if you need to bail out."
 
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