The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!
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08.26.2012 , 09:51 PM |
No Good Very Bad Days (the lighter side)
Murphy's Law Says...
BH - Skari and crew - no spoilers
Skari gritted her teeth as the flunky’s flailing weight at the end of her fist aggravated the already aching wound in her shoulder. It was almost getting to the same pain level as the half-patched wound in her side, the blaster graze on her skull, and the wrenched ankle.
“Now, call your boss, you f**king idiot,” she snarled, throwing him back into his chair.
“He-he is Lord Tamolko, and…” he gulped and stopped the officious officiousness that was close to getting him killed. Apparently some survival instinct had been jarred to life by her wordless growl and death-glare. He pushed a button and spoke into the intercom, “Lord Tamolko, there’s a…uh, that is…the bounty hunter you hired has returned.”
“Send her in.” Could he sound more bored? Stupid Alderaanian nobles, they all needed kicked…and hit…and possibly set on fire.
Skari dragged the body she’d been sent for into the study full of priceless heirlooms and ancient treasures. She hoped the blood stained the carpet. Blasted body was heavy. Would have been easier to haul with Torian’s help, but she’d sent him back to the ship with Mako and a crapload of kolto.
Lord Tamolko looked up from his correspondence. “Ah, good, I see you took care of…” he looked at the body and his eyes got very wide.
Skari crossed her arms in front of her and glared. “There a problem?” She was pretty sure her jaw was going to ache for days, clenching it was not helping.
“That’s not Baron Admarark.”
“Like hell it isn’t.”
“I can’t believe it,” he said, standing and walking in a slow circle around the body.
Skari could feel the last bit of her patience slipping away. “Considering I just fought through waves of hardcore Trandoshian mercenaries on an estate I was told had defenses that were a joke, you’d better start talking.”
Lord Tamolko looked up at her, startled, as if he’d forgotten she was there. “This is Count Ramall. He is…or rather, was…considered untouchable. Paranoid, kept to himself. Built a blasted fortress with turrets and guards and….”
“Yeah. I’ve seen it.”
He chuckled. “Unbelievable. The coordinates we gave you must have been switched.” He walked over to his desk and sat down again.
“My creds?” Skari snapped.
Tamolko glanced up at her and raised an eyebrow, “That is hardly my concern. This was the wrong target.”
Skari started to pull her blaster to end his miserable, entitled life, and then remembered that her crew was sitting in his dock riddled with blaster burns. On a good day, yeah, but this…this was anything but a good day.
She swiped a small statue that looked old off the desk, ignoring Lord Tamolko’s protest. “For my expenses,” she threw over her shoulder, daring him to make a fuss.
By the time she got back to her ship, her body felt like one huge ache. She headed directly for the med bay, as bare bones as it was.
“How’d it go?” Mako asked her, activating medical probes as Skari walked in. Blizz was jabbering at Torian who was stretched out on one of the beds. Gault had a black eye but mostly he looked irritated at having his space invaded.
“What’s this worth?” Skari said, tossing him the statue.
“What? We’re taking payment in paperweight now?” he mocked as he caught the statue. He looked it over, tapped it a few times, and weighed it. “I don’t know who sold this to your guy, but he did a fabulous job.”
Skari groaned. “Fake?”
“As my Imperial ID.”
“Great.” She walked over to Torian’s side. “How you holding up, kid?”
“I’m fine,” he said through gritted teeth, trying to get to his feet.
“Don’t you dare!” Mako scolded him, pushing him gently back down.
“She’s right,” Skari said, “rest, recover, you’ll be back fighting faster that way.”
Torian nodded tiredly and settled back in.
Skari sighed, grabbed two kolto packs, a bottle from Gault’s stash, and headed for the bridge. She settled into her chair, propped the kolto on the worst of the wounds, and took a drink from the bottle. And then spit it out.
“Damn it, Gault! What did you do to this wine?!?”
“I told you not to raid my stash,” his voice echoed up through the ship.
Skari let her head fall back against the chair. Some days it did not pay to get up in the morning.
I've decided that the What if prompt from the other day involving the early demise of a certain crew member will be a permanent part of my head cannon, simply because I STILL cannot come up with a scenario in which Skari would have made him part of the crew. So that's the whole group there, the kids, the pet, and the smart a**. No wonder she needs a drink
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