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When I Wake


EverSteam

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Fanfiction of female Bounty Hunter.

Romance x Torian Cadera, action, drama, angst, strange comedy at points, the usual.

 

Follows Bounty Hunter storyline and includes a massive back story and the such - set at the end of the Great Hunt (Act One) and will eventually contain relationship and story spoilers. Will probably be very long, but updated frequently! Please give it a chance!

 

Italics = flashback or thoughts

 

Below is a short synopsis of the character and story if you want to know what you're in for.

 

 

 

Gist of story: Character has a past that keeps coming up and is the rationale for basically all actions as she tries to settle her past, control her immense rage, seek revenge on the galaxy, romance Torian, change from the monster she was with the help of said Mandalorian, and complete bounties within a short amount of time (so a good time is had by all!) - sees herself as ugly due to this past but is actually very pretty, is also highly contradictory, hypocritical, prone to irony and, as expected, violent. Rough on the outside but nice and squishy on the inside in an extremely warped and twisted way...

 

 

 

WARNING: By the way, there's some 'distressing' or 'disturbing' content... i.e. torture. Will put spoiler around this.

Also, since eventually this thread will have spoilers eventually there won't be any around them so you have bee warned...

 

Boring disclaimer/copyrights:

Though I do not own the game characters, plants, places, creatures, or universe, I reserve rights on the/my original materials and content within this story.

Some dialogue has been taken from the game which I do not own.

Copying anything that is original material I have posted and thus written, requires consent from the author, EverSteam, as I claim authors rights.

 

 

Please comment and give feedback! Just once or frequently as it goes! Will always be appreciated :)

Please keep reading past the prolouge and at least till the end of Hoth.... haven't finished writing since I'm doing it as I play and the such. Will update heaps so please be patient!

 

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When I Wake

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Prologue

Undefined planet before the start of Act One

 

I was cleaning my armour when he calls.

 

Despite my best efforts, the blood from my earlier interrogations had dried on. The Captain had taken longer than I expected. He had wiped the terminal when he heard me massacring the troops and coming his way, so it was back to old fashioned methods. Eventually, he told me the location of the covert Republic base here. And the security codes. Didn't need him after that. Suppose I could say I gave him a clean death at the end, only I had made too much of a mess of him in the three hours earlier.

 

Would have gone after the bounty straight away but it's day outside and dried blood is harder to clean off then wet. I'll go after the target at dusk. Isn't more than two clicks from here. I look around at where 'here' is as I search for my holo. The cave is dark and a little damp; it seethes through the bottom of the tent like a poison. I don't mind. I'm at the back of the cave, traps set all down the cave from the opening to here. Nothing will make it to me alive.

 

This bounty shouldn't be too hard. These bounties are a waste of my talents. But I suppose I need to prove myself good enough for the Great Hunt somehow. Hope they are good enough to attract attention. And I was in the area anyway. Had some personal business to take care of. I'll hit the underground base tomorrow night.

 

I accept the call. The tiny, blue flittering figure that appears is a man. He's middle aged. Human. Bald with hard creases around his mouth. Still in rather good shape, otherwise.

 

'So do you want in? I have a team ready; we only need a hunter.'

 

Guy said his name was Braden. Suits him. He has a team ready for the Great Hunt and wants me to be their hunter. Opportunity I'd been waiting for. Not much else suits my talents but hunting. Guess I also want to prove I can do it on my own: my targets, my rules and my money. Don't know why it should matter, though. General's dead. And I've been killing for ten years, so capability to kill is proven. So I suppose I just want to burn my name through the stars as a warning to the Republic of what is to come.

 

This is the twelfth planet in the five months. But I don't want to be an unknown force to most of the galaxy, unheard of to those who aren't in the Organisation. I want fame. I want the galaxy to know who burns their Empire and Republic. I want them to despise themselves for the monster they created; the beast their leaders, soldiers and scientists crafted and fashioned.

 

I want to make this galaxy as ugly as I am; to shatter and break their charade of beauty, of justice and of good. And then I want them to beg for mercy. No one deserves to live.

 

 

 

 

The prisoner begged in between screams. They continue when I stop. I decided to change tools. Tired of this one. Need something smaller to get the teeth at the back.

 

When I approach her again, she thrashes; head wildly shaking from side to side; her hair slaps her in the face, making her eyes tear more. Her cocoa irises are surrounded by blood shot white. They are wild and insane now, all sense of sanity and peace removed like a splinter from a foot. I clamp her mouth open and tighten the strap around her forehead. I begin filing her back teeth into small, sharp points. Her agonised screams are merely frenzied gurgles.

 

Hours later, when all her teeth are tiny pointed, perfect pyramids and I am satisfied with the job, I remove the clamp. I loosen the strap around her head by a few centimetres. I return it to the work bench and pick up a thin long metal rod. The point at the end is sharp.

 

My footsteps reverberate in the damp concrete room. The echoes create echoes until it is nothing but an undefinable noise. All else is silent. She has screamed her throat raw. Her breathing is nothing but a haggard gasping thing.

 

I walk to the corner and pick up the small wooden stool. I drag it over and put it close in front of her. She watches me with suspicious, tired eyes. I hold up the long needle and test the point on my finger. No blood appears, despite it being far under the surface.

 

'Do you know what this does?' She tries to speak but as her tongue touches her teeth she makes a high pitched wail. I smirk. Guess I did make them sharp enough after all. 'Do you want to find out?'

 

She shakes her head as well as she can.

 

I tell her anyway. There is too much life in her eyes. 'You know, this is actually my favourite. We all have favourites here, you know. Most in the Organisation don't like the common torture droids. Too impersonal, though some like to watch. And let's face, droids really are just for amateurs. Even the most advanced droids just doesn't have the same touch or feel as a real person. We like our prisoners to know that we are giving them our special, undiverted attention.'

 

I leer at her and continue as she begins to sob. 'Like right now and for the past ten hours. Haven't you felt special? Hasn't no one else ever paid you this much attention? Don't you feel like I understand your pain and am listening closing to your complaints?'

 

I frown at her lack of reply and consider hitting her as she continues to cry. But I reject that, and continue. 'Some like electrocution, other's the old fashioned cutting slow; some like to make people hang from hands and legs for days on end, other's like to feed people boiling water or food with too much pepper and salt after they had spent hours cutting and scorching the inside of their mouths and sometimes removing all the prisoners teeth. But I like this simple needle. There's so much you can do with it. Do you know how many things?'

 

She doesn't move. And she doesn't look at me. So I slap her hard on the face, her teeth cutting the inside of her cheeks. She dribbles blood. 'It's rude to not look at someone when there talking to you.' I hit her again. 'It's rude to not answer a person when they are speaking to you.' I hold her neck in my hand and squeeze. My steel grey eye is a dagger that stares into her, cutting her soul and leaving it in bloody, long strips. 'So answer my question, please.'

 

She looks into my eye with an exhausted loathing. 'I don't know.'

 

I nod and let go of her neck. 'Good girl. The only limits to it is your imagination.' I lean in closer to her and speak in a fervent, conspiring whisper. 'And I have a very good imagination.' I lean back again. 'Do you want to me to show you some of the things it has come up with?'

 

She shakes her head, the movement turning into a spasm that brings short, squeaking coughs.

 

'No? So you are ready to talk?'

 

She nods her head. She is silent. She spits out some blood, but it falls short and dribbles her chin, joining the rest. Dignity doesn't exist in this place. Hard to retain some when sitting in your own **** and piss.

 

'Good. Start by telling me...'

 

 

 

 

'You got yourself a hunter. Just tell me where.'

 

Braden smiles. It's relieved. 'Hutta. Great Hunt starts in two months. When can we expect you?'

 

'Be there in three weeks. Got a few things to wrap up here.'

 

He frowns a little. 'Can't be sooner? Cutting it a little close.'

 

'I like it close.' I hang up.

 

Great Hunt, huh? Opportunity all bounty hunters and most Mandalorians want. It's an annual tournament held by Mando's to determine the greatest bounty hunter in the galaxy. All targets are high profile and hard to get. Each target has two bounty hunters going after it. Hunters must eliminate the competition and the target. Failure to do so is death. The victor receives wealth and fame. Both mean little to me.

 

I live for revenge. I hate this galaxy. And I just like a challenge.

 

I hum as I clean the blood off my armour. Everything according to plan.

Edited by EverSteam
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There's always confusion when you wake up from a deep sleep. Sometimes, the dreams are so genuine, you find it hard to believe the world you suddenly see is real. There is uncertainty. The dream still lingers, and you feel that as it slips away, you are losing something important.

 

You can't remember what that thing is. Only that you want it back. And it has left a hard, cold sadness, an overwhelming weeping pain in its place that spreads through your body.

 

This is your reality.

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Dromund Kaas

 

-----

 

Today is my day.

 

When I wake up, I leave Gault lying on the couch. Not out of kindness. I don't remember sleeping in the makeshift rec room. I have distinct memories of going to my own room. I shake it away. I feel something close to giddiness. And it makes me want to enjoy this morning on my own. I put on some simple woven shirt. It's old and faded. I polish my armour for the occasion. Black. Shining with points like stars, red highlighting the shoulders. It glistens. I almost hum.

 

He smiles. 'You are a born killer. I will train you to become the greatest assassin. Innocent and heartless.' Always smiling. My cell is cold.

 

I do my routine workout. It forces other thoughts from my mind. Gault wakes up half way through my push ups. He mumbles something about 'no breakfast in bed' and winces at the lights in the ship. Mako runs down from her room, half dressed and still wet from the shower. All excited and jabbering to herself. I continue my work out.

 

I put on my armour. For such a small ship, it's easy to get lost in. Thank God. I grab something that I think is meant to be green from the galley and walk to the exit, eating noiselessly. Mako's already there, practically jumping on the spot. 'Today's the big day!' She prattles on about that father/mentor guy of hers, Braden, being proud. He was killed a few days after I arrived by the leading Mando opposition, Tarro Blood, before the Hunt even began. Tarro died just like all the other competition. Despite his dirty, honourless tricks to stop me. I made that f***er bleed. Righteous revenge really is sweet.

 

I listen silently to her constant stream of crap. She doesn't need to know I couldn't give a f*** about Braden.

 

The travel across Dromund Kaas is long.

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Dromund Kaas (still)

 

 

Enter Torian eep!

 

 

The cherry paint on my armour shines like wet blood in the lights of the stadium. It might actually be old blood with polish over the top... The Mandalorians stand at ceremony. An odd event. The stadium is large, set in the arena where I fought for a place in the Great Hunt. A place in history. Easy. I knew I could get here. But now that I am...

 

I sink in the moment. They are in straight lines. Parallel. Backs straight and chests out. Trees in an orchard. Along the path I walk to claim my glory. My footsteps echo. Loud and deafening. Their faces are shrouded in cold metal helmets. Identical trees.

 

All except one.

 

He has hair like golden threads. He is young. And gorgeous. His eyes are watchful and open. They follow my course while others look sightlessly to the ceiling. All at attention yet none aware. I nod to him. He bows his head. Something drops into my chest at that moment. Something old and familiar. Something terrifying. I feel fear.

 

I rasp my knuckles on the steel door.

 

'It's ready to talk.' The Guard on the other side opens the door for me. On the other side, the light is fluorescent. It makes the white, spotless walls shine brighter. I take the bottle he passes to me and scull it down as he contacts the General. 'How long till the General arrives?'

 

'Not for another hour or two, Ma'am.' With the General, that basically means immediately. He just doesn't want people to think that when they call, he comes running. *********** proud arse. Have to remember to wrench that conceited dignity from him before I kill him. I crush the steel bottle in my hand and sneer fiercely. Soon. Soon.

 

The Guard takes the empty, crushed bottle back with a shaking hand. I don't know this Guard. He's clearly new. He's in the Organisation armour; black cowl with eye slits and a durasteel cap with full body black armour. He has a blaster rifle and two small blaster pistols, plus two rockets in his wrist guards. A number is on left shoulder pad in silver: 579.

 

'You new? Where's Jakob?' Jakob's one of the three Guards for this cell who had the number 579.

 

The Guard looks uncomfortable. He's young. Far too young. Close to my age. Barely old enough to shave. 'He spoke out against orders, Ma'am. I'm his replacement.'

 

'What's your name kid?'

 

He stares at my implants. I only wear a black tank top with black leather pants. Not sure it could really pass as even a tank top; it's more a second, silk bra. General encourages me showing off the things on me with pride. Good at the showing but lacking on the pride. Loving the fear though. His petrified gaze makes me a aware of the blood that covers my body; spots of crimson I wear with conceit. I leer at him. I give him three weeks, max.

'Willis.' He stutters the word out; it is a fly that bangs against a window before finding the gap to freedom. 'Willis Gord.'

 

I laugh. 'Unfortunate name you got, kid. Sounds like you were destined for this bantha's arse.' I clap my hand on his shoulder. I hear the General's quick heels on the smooth white tiles. 'Keep your mouth shut, **** together and vomit in and you might last as long as dear old Jakob. An entire six months.'

 

I take my hand away and look mournfully into the distance. 'Was almost going to set a new record of twenty six weeks.' I leer at Willis out of the corner of my eye as what colour he had fades from his face.

 

The General appears and Willis moves to sharp attention. His legs almost stop wobbling. I stand at my own form of attention; back straight, legs shoulder length apart and hands behind my back. In my mind, I am spitting on his face.

 

'Guard.' Willis opens the door on the General's order and the smell of Wookie piss and **** hit's your nose like a speeder. The Guard does a good job keeping in the vomit that leaks from his mouth. He swallows hard. Again and again. When it is back where it should be, he wipes his mouth. The Guard glances at me and I wink. He's a quick learner. Might survive after all.

 

The General walks inside, examines my work, enquires to the Wookie of his cooperation, recievs a screeching affirmative and walks back out. He nods to me. 'Well done, Primacy. A new record for any successful torture in Class B. A little messy though.'

 

I turned and started walking away after 'well done'. When he finishes, my feet dance a 180 turn and I continue to walk away backward down the long, white corridor. I spread my arms wide as I take in his amused, affronted face.

 

'You trained me to be the best, General.' My feet turn back around. I walk away with a straight back and confident steps, my calling voice echoing down the corridor to him.

 

'So I'm being the best.'

 

I look to the Hunt Master. Old and grey; tall and majestic. He grins at me. Or something close to a grin, it's hard to tell with Wookies. Whatever it is, it isn't something Wookies have ever made while looking at me before. As he stares down at me from the podium in the centre of the dusty arena, I wallow in conceit and pride. This is my moment. The first mark in many leading to my eternal glory. A spit in the face of the Organisation.

'Your name will be feared by even Sith.'

 

But I feel his eyes. And I am still scared.

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A week later after seeing Mandalore and returning to Dromund Kaas....

 

I let myself tell myself that I had forgotten him. But it's hard to forget someone you are consciously trying to forget. It was only a glance. Shouldn't be this hard to forget.

 

He wasn't on Mandalore's station.

 

So I was surprised to see him on Dromund Kaas.

 

Mandalorians stood talking around fires. He was not in traditional armour. Again. He was the first to see me. All stopped to ogle. His eyes never left me. I was conscious of them. Staring. He moves up around his friend. Better position to watch.

 

The space outside the yawning black cave is a vast clearing. Towering dark green trees attempt to meet in a canopy over the barren area, the sun still reaching down. Surprised this area is clear. Most of Drumond Kaas, a wild cess pit of carnivorous monsters that is the Imperial Capital, is untamed jungle of green and purple plants. Imperial buildings and estates are like birds' nests coddled and suffocated in trees.

 

Despite the warmth of this festering and light of the clearing, there are still fires in their camp. Sergeants walk along lines of bare chested Mando's doing drills. Sergeant's and loitering Mandalorians are all in traditional armour, but all have helmets off and are watching. As expected, there are no females in sight. No wonder Mandalorian's turn to adoption.

 

'This is a camp for warriors, not hikers. You are not welcome here.' I feel Mandalorians walking up and around us, their eyes watching Mako, Gault and I. Mako shifts uncomfortably and blushes under their gaze. Most had their arms crossed or on their hips. There posture is still casual. They just wanted to watch a show.

 

I sneer at blondies friend. 'I go where I want. Pick the fight with someone you can beat.' I go to walk away towards the cave. But the dumb ugly punk isn't finished.

 

'Leave. I am not telling you again. Or I will put a knife in your gut.'

 

'Tough words. Care to attempt to back them up.' He makes a move. More a flinch. I am faster. My gun is centimetres from his head before he even touches his own. 'Pow. Your dead.'

 

The Mandalorian stares at me with hatred in his eyes. I sneer wider. Mandalorians are pathetic.

 

Blondie steps forward slightly. I glance his way. His heart beat is even. Relaxed. His mouth is twitching at the edges; a tiny smile in the corners. He seems serious. He is strong. Leaner than most Mandalorians. A scar like tridents of old is on each cheek. I like the look of him.

 

'She's more warrior than you, Jogo.' He tries not to smile, but I can tell he is under the shadow of a frown. He is smart. Yes. I think I like the look of him a lot. And that is a dangerous, terrifying thing.

 

This 'Jogo' is offended. Slightly humiliated. I don't know why, but he is easy to read. He leers at the kid. 'You're one to judge, huh, arue'tal?' A traitor's blood. Interesting.

 

The kid ignores the jibe, keeps cool. Very smart. 'Huntmaster declared her Grand Champion.' I smirk a little. He remembers. Something spasms in my chest. I ignore it.

 

His 'friend' is dismissive. Derisive. It's big talking for someone with a gun in their face. But it doesn't earn my respect, only my spite. I think about shooting him. But it would prove troublesome. His friends voice is dumb. I can tell he is an idiot. Good thing Mandalorians pride combat over brains. The others all stiffen a little.

 

Blondie shakes his head and turns his back to Jogo. It shakes his hair. I turn to him. But I don't lower my arm.

'Never mind. It's an honour.'

 

I smirk a little. Honour is a funny thing. I don't believe in it. 'Your friend has a death wish. Thinking about making good on it.'

 

Blondies lips twitch some more. I want him to smile. 'Yeah. Ignore him. He's not too bright.' I smile. Not smirk. Something passes between us. It is startling. I want more than this moment. And that is even more terrifying. I must kill whatever this kid has caused in me. It has no place in someone like me. Something like me.

 

I lower my arm from his friends face. 'So you got a name, kid?' He frowns. No twitching. Kids got pride. Despite his status.

 

'Torian Cadera. Not a kid.' I smirk.

 

But I nod too. 'You're still young, kid. But I'm sorry. Meant no offence.'

 

'Older than you.' I let it slide. Years have no meaning over me. I am hundreds of years old. 'But no insult taken.' Yes. I removed the moment. And a lot more. But he stills speaks. 'Taking the head of one of our beasts?'

 

'Something like that. I will know it when I see it.' Don't know why I'm still talking to him. I'm wasting time. Time is everything. Especially when there's an expiry date.

 

'Sire of the brood.' He's heard of it. 'You can feel it's heart beat in the walls.' I stop and listen. Yes. I can hear a heartbeat. Large above all others. It will be deafening in the fight. I hold back a sigh. Hearing implants can be a pain.

 

'Better warriors than you have tried. They never return.' I smirk at Jogo's retreating figure. No Mandalorian is a better warrior then me. No one is.

 

And I always return.

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An hour or two later...

 

Mandalorians cheer as I walk past out of the cave. I like victories.

 

The light of day is blinding after the liberating dark of the festering cave. Gault didn't like the cave so much. Neither did Mako. She gizka-d out and stayed behind, hidden from the sight of the Mando's outside. Once she was out of ear shot Gault was quick to jump down my throat and force himself under my skin. Think it was the only reason he stuck with me for the fight.

 

He nudges my ribs playfully and grins in his mocking way. 'You got a thing for the blonde one, don't you?'

 

Before Gault can process what's happening, his arms are behind his back and his kneeling on the ground, my lips at his ear. 'Want to say that again? Didn't quite catch it.'

 

'Hey hey. No need for the hostilities. Want to get close to me only have to call my name.' I snort and push him into the ground as I let go and stand up. I keep walking through the cave toward the vociferous noise. Gault stumbles after me. I knew he would.

 

'So come on. You do, don't you? I saw you two looking at each other. I was born very, very far away from yesterday. If he had been looking at you with anything hotter, Drumond Kaas would be the new Tatooine. So come on. Stop being so silent. Talk to Uncle Gault about it.'

 

I stop and let Gault run into me. I hold my gun under his chin and look into his eyes. 'If Uncle Gault wants to live, I suggest he shut the **** up now while he still has a jaw. The beast is in the next cavern.'

 

I move to the wall and walk along it noiselessly. Gault comes up beside me and I whisper the plan as I eye the beast. 'Right behind you. Far, far behind you,' he whispers back.

 

'No different from usual then.' He begins to sneak to the other side of the cavern, far from the action when he stops on my whisper.

 

'And Gault: nudge me, touch me, hit me, kick me or poke me again and you will lose all eleven fingers. Say anything like that again and you will find yourself missing three horns and one of them won't be growing back. Do I make myself clear, 'Uncle' Gault?'

 

He nods and grumbles curses and abuse under breath when he thinks I can't hear. I can. But they amuse me for now. When he is in position, we attack the beast.

 

---

 

Cadera is the first to see us. 'She's back.' The words seem to burst out. His voice has excitement and pleasure. The others turn, slightly startled. 'How'd it go?' Slightly more cool. I wink at the kid. I pretend it doesn't pull my chest. It's easier to pretend.

 

'Find another hunting spot. I just made this one a bone yard.' I am proud and arrogant. A small task really. I pretend my ears did not bleed and my body didn't strain under its attack. It's easier pretending.

 

His friend is outraged. It makes sparing him worth it. I am amazing. And the day will come when the galaxy knows it. 'How did you kill it when so many of my clan have failed?'

 

I don't reply. I spit at his feet. A practiced and precise move. I smirk. Constant underestimation.

 

Cadera leads the others into a cheer. 'Hail to the victor! Oya!'

 

I just walk away.

Edited by EverSteam
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Later...

 

He wasn't on Mandalore's ship, of course. Don't think a traitor's son would be welcome there.

 

Mandalore makes an offer for me to join his clan when he sees the evidence of my victory against the beast. I accept. I don't care for being part of a large family or their pathetic honour. I join because I know there will be benefits: money and connections. Important connections.

 

And the coronation ceremony and celebration is almost fun. Meet the other three Grand Champion's of Hunt's past. I don't care for them. Especially the Zabrak woman, Jewl'a Nightbringer. Bloodworthy and the droid seemed tolerable for now. Not sure I like Mandalore though. Even though he 'likes a woman who isn't afraid to get her knuckles bloody.' Think that comment is basically why I don't. I'm not here to be liked. But I am smarter than to refuse. Might need allies for awhile in the galaxy and they could cause trouble otherwise. Plus. Pay is good. Very good.

 

When I make it back to the ship, Mako and Gault are still awake. I'm in a surprisingly good mood. Basically means I don't have the urge to shoot anyone. Not even Mako.

 

'Ah, thank goodness your back. I was getting lonely for female companionship.'

 

Mako glares at him. 'Two things, Gault: Ew, just ew. And hey! I'm female.'

 

Gault gives her a once over and shakes his head. He grins at me and spreads his hands wide. 'I rest my case.'

 

I laugh and sit on the floor. We make a strange triangle. Should probably buy couches or chairs one day. Got more than enough money. But such comforts don't mean much to me. This freedom is enough.

 

Mako is eager to hear the news, though. 'So, come on, what happened? What was Mandalore like?'

 

'He was an oppressive jack ***.' I shrug. 'Just like any man.' Mako giggles a little and it makes me notice the empty bottles for the first time. I look back at her and wonder how I didn't realise the disarray of her short brown hair, the unbalanced movements of her slim body and the general stench of the room.

 

Gault makes a short protest to my statement. I wave him away. 'You're existence only proves my point, 'Gault'. Anyway, I've become part of his clan. You are now looking at an official Mandalorian.'

 

Gault whistles. 'You've just made yourself a lot of friends.'

 

I grin at him. 'I know, Gault. They were my thoughts exactly. We also got a new job along with it. A Black List bounty. Big leagues.'

 

'And big credits.' Gault's greed is almost palpable. Don't think Gault is much different from his old name of Tyresius Lokai. Maybe a little more real. Definitely not as big a fish. Gault was a target and I spared him. He works for me now. We gave them a clone instead. Still think about killing him though. Suppose for now he's useful. But there's always tomorrow...

 

I nod. 'I'll toast to that.' He throws me an unopened bottle and we raise them at each other. Mako just shakes her head a little, but it turns into a drunken sway. I raise my eyebrow at Gault and motion to her. Light weight, I mouth to him. He snickers and nods.

 

'Wow. Black list bounty. Big leagues doesn't even cover it. You have no idea what this is.'

 

I glare at her. I hate her presumption of what I do and don't know. She stiffens in fear. 'Let me guess, Mako. You've searched the holo net a thousand times and all you could ever find or hear of about the list were rumours. Trust me, Mako. There's a lot out there you don't know.'

 

She goes to make a retort but something in my voice or words stops her. She gives me a curious searching look and nods. 'I'll get to work on decoding it. Night.' She reels away drunkenly. I hear her pass out on her bed.

 

I stay up with Gault. We talk of all the credits that are coming our way. I don't care for credits like Gault does. They are a necessary means to an end.

 

And that end is revenge.

Edited by EverSteam
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A few weeks later on Taris.

 

-----

 

We run towards him.

 

I dodge the traps easily. Leaping and twisting. Mako and Gault have more trouble. I don't look back. My blood is surging through me fast. It's from the battle. Don't worry. 'Torian!' Mako calls as she limps up to stand with me. Her voice is thick with emotion. Think more on that later. I am aware of Gault running from one trap to the next. Disabling them with ease. He is skilled and efficient. It almost makes me smile a little. You would never guess.

 

'Cadera'. I'm all business. 'Where's Jicoln?' My voice is urgent. I feel tense. It's because the trail is getting cold. Only the trail.

Cadera is lying down on his side, his elbow supporting him as it rests in a pool of blood. There sweat beading on his forehead and he holds one hand to his side. His hair is ruffled, damp threads of gold, pushed back and out of place. His face is serious but does a good job at remaining stoic. His voice doesn't.

 

I order Mako to get some med supplies. I take out what I have on me and silently attend Cadera as he continues his briefing. He gives me directions. Jicoln escaped Torian's traps but is badly injured. Should be a blood trail to lead us to him. He'll head for an outpost for supplies. Mako joins me. She silently passes the supplies she managed to find. I still feel tense. Metal is tight and heavy on my skin. He continues to protest. 'Better the trail gets cold then you.' That's a first.

 

He tries to look in my eye. I avoid them. I retain my professional indifference. It's easier pretending. I see a twitch on his face. A small smile. My own lips tug. I force a frown and finish cleaning his wounds. I need to be harder to read then that. The wounds were not that bad. Fatal if not treated immediately and carefully. But I had seen worse on my home world during the Great Galactic War. And I have done worse.

 

'So close...' he mumbles. I become aware of how close our faces are. Our bodies. He means Jicoln. Jicoln. He passes out at some stage.

 

We leave when he wakes. 'All right, kid, the kolto's treated most of the damage. So stop sleeping.'

 

He's angry. 'You should have left me. You've given the traitor too much time.' Half an hour has passed by. I don't mind. I never fail a kill. I always get my target. And I'm relieved. Gault and Mako return to the ship. They need to collect on a few rewards, and buy a few things before the job is wrapped up.

 

Cadera and I fight along a trail of blood.

 

After a few minutes I decide to speak up. I like the silence but we can't never speak. 'You're welcome for back there, by the way.' I shoot a rakghoul that was stalking up behind him. He finishes off the two in front of him. There's none left in this area.

 

'Sorry. Thanks.' His serious face looks a little ashamed. I hide my smile under a sneer.

 

'Come on. Can't keep standing smelling the flowers all day.' I motion to a beautiful purple flower on the ground.

 

Similar to the lilies found on Drumond Kaas. I walk off and pick it up, putting it behind my ear. It smells nice. Make a nice memento. I hear him following me.

 

He fights well. Like a man with something to prove. We all have something to prove. We are in sync. So quickly we fit our fighting styles; defence and offence. We leap in time, fighting side by side. He ducks and twirls, keeping the enemies back towards me. It's exhilarating. Our fights are easy, swift and enjoyable.

 

He fights with honour. Unlike Gault, he relies on guile instead of skill to win battles. Or Mako. Unlike any man. A bond was formed between us. When two people fight as one, it does something. An unseen honour. An unspoken respect. And something more. No. Never more.

 

My chest is hurting. A virus is spreading in my torso and through my body.

 

I fight harder. Because that's easier.

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A few hours later....

 

He turns to me with steel resolve in his eyes. Pleases me to not see a weak child. 'Thanks for this. I will not forget it.'

 

'Hold you to that.' I wink at him. It's a little bit of an awkward thing when you only have one eye. I smile to make up for the deficiency. 'We will meet again.' Never knew how true that statement was until later. Inside, something twists alive and painful. I had forgotten this would end.

 

Jicoln is dead.

 

He gestures to a purple splash on the mud. 'Shame.' I bend down swiftly and pick up the broken, dirty remnants of the flower I found. It fell out when Cadera pushed me down. Move made Jicoln's shot a miss. Saved my life, I guess. But it makes me more than a little sad. It was a rare thing. I throw it back down onto the ground.

 

'It's worthless now.'

 

He turns away from me and looks down the hill. 'It's been an honour'.

'You two are good... real good. Even Artus never gave me this much of a run.'

 

Jicoln saunters down the hill from his sniper position and faces us. Finally showing some manly honour.

 

'His name is Mandalore now!' Cadera is angry. So much pride and so much to prove.

 

'I know what he calls himself now, boy. I was there.'

 

'Dad getting under your skin, Cadera?' Torian shoots me a glare. It's vicious. I like his anger. I meet it levelly. I leer at him and then Jicoln as understanding spreads across his face.

 

'Father? Torian? No... you can't be. Artus said he would kill you. Promised to kill you. Swore it.'

 

Cadera looks to his right, eyes in the distance. 'Sometimes, I wish he had.' His voice is thick with betrayal and years of suffering. Wouldn't have been easy. But it only showed for a moment. He goes back to stern resolve. Almost stoic. I only have respect for those that suffer in silence. Wish Mako would take a lesson or two from Cadera.

 

'So it's really you. Artus knows how to put the crowning irony on a vendetta.'

 

'Bit too late for remorse, Jicoln. I'm doing it for Mandalore. Kid's doing it for himself.'

 

'But does he know why?' Like I care. Jicoln's going to die. Whether it's by Cadera's gun or mine. Don't give a **** why the kid's doing it really. Though any fool could figure it out.

 

Cadera pulls his gun and holds it to his father's head. 'You stripped our clan of its honour. Today, I'm taking it back!' I like his self righteousness. And the harsh edge to his solemn voice.

 

I draw out my gun as well. 'There you go. Can we hurry up and kill you now?'

 

I respect his strength to kill his Father. It would be a pathetic weakness to allow him to live. He was decisive. And, I admit, I was a little surprised. I never got the whole 'parents' thing. Over rated. Not that an orphan would know. Didn't have them. Didn't need them. Don't want them. Don't remember them.

 

I thought he would take the chance for father and son bonding. To settle unsolved Daddy issues. He proved me wrong. He wasn't a child screaming for Daddy to look at him. I step on the flower, my boot pressing it into the mud's hungry mouth.

 

I sympathise with Cadera. No Mandalorian believed he would restore his honour. No one believes I would kill in cold blood. That I can kill. It's a sad thing to have in common, constant underestimation, but it is something. And even if he doesn't realise, I will always feel a connection to him for it. We are alike. More than I have ever been to anyone. And this rare blissful thing fills me with bitter sweet melancholy thoughts.

'Aah... just do it.'

 

Cadera holds a gun to his kneeling father's head. He stands tall and proud above him. 'Liser gar su jorhaa'ir haar joha, dar'manda?' He spits in his father's face. 'Ib'tuur gar dar'buir balyc.' Today you have no son.

 

Jicoln turns his head to me. Cadera's spit trickles around the edge of his right eye. He doesn't wipe it away. 'I have a last request hunter. Let me speak with my son.'

 

I hold up my empty hands and leer at him. 'I'm not the one holding the gun in your face.' I cross my arms and glance at Cadera. I'm still ready for anything. Jicoln isn't dead yet. 'You're call, kid.'

 

'My clan will not be remembered as traitors.' He is resolute.

 

He leans forward and pull's his father's body up until their eyes are meeting, noses almost touching. Cadera lifts up his arm and puts the gun to Jicoln's parietal lobe, above his ear.

 

'Goodbye, aruetii.' He pulls the trigger and watches as the life quickly leaves his father's eyes. He throws the body to the ground like it was a festering contagious thing and spits on it's feet.

 

 

I can't see him anymore. Lost in rubble and plants; the life that comes after destruction and loneliness. Wild and heartless. We will meet again. I deny that part of me wants to. I will forever deny it. Maybe then, this worm that has grown inside my guts and wrapped itself around my chest will die. What can live without food?

 

As he walks away, I feel I am losing something important. A part of me has fallen away. Something I didn't know I had. I try to find words to describe it, but letters seem to dissipate and jumble. It is something beyond description. It is on the edge of my memory. It is something old and forgotten. Something I learnt that I fail to remember. A shadow in my vision. No matter how I reach, it is out of my grasp.

 

'Let's clear out.' I say it to no one. I forget I am alone with a dead man.

 

I have lost something important. And I don't know what it is.

 

But I want it back. More than I have ever wanted anything.

 

 

----

 

A note from the author:

 

 

 

Ok, I know what you're thinking.... that the cruel ***** you met at the start has all of a sudden gone soft and squishy cos of a hot blonde kid she only just met.

Well don't worry! She hasn't. Just bear with me for a post or two more and you'll see. There's more to her then that. And she's in self denial of many things...

She kind of takes a step forward to being human and then three back and then four forward, then two back then one forward, one back and you get the picture - she's not really moving anywhere. This is just a taking a step forward for the first time in her life phase that will be over in a post or two.

 

Also I hope the time shifts didn't confuse you too much back there....

 

 

 

So keep reading!

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A few hours later on the ship...

 

It was easy to forget him. Almost.

 

Bragging to the other hunters filled me with pride. My arrogance grates on their nerves. I know I am good. I am the best at what I do. Professional. They underestimated me.

 

'The Mandalorians will meet you at the space port to pick him up.'

 

I cut the transmission. Gault and Mako smile at each other. They are proud too. I return to my quarters on the top level. Preparing... things. I don't really know what. I need to be alone a moment. I feel excited and hopeful and... What is this, really? The company of others is odd to me. I am not used to it. I have been alone for a long time. Except for dead men. When I think about it, there have always been dead men in my life.

 

I call Gault and Mako down when I reach the exit.

 

Gault comes first. His skin is darker. And his broken horn has grown in the time we spent together. He looks younger. Closer to his real age. He grins at me. 'In a hurry to leave?' The light creates dark shadows around his face.

 

'You know I like places that don't threaten to turn me into a ravenous mutant or poison me with toxic water as we scramble from ruin to ruin. A shame you missed the fun we had on Nar Shaddaa.' I can hear Mako's light foot work tapping on the steel floor above.

 

She skips down the stairs. 'Fun for some.' She stands on my right, a smile on her face. Despite talk of Nar Shaddaa. Somehow, her smiles always look slightly sad. 'Ready to leave.' She reports it seriously. It doesn't suit her.

 

I nod the signal and we begin the long process of leaving the ship.

 

The Mandalorians are already waiting.

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An hour or so later...

 

He is with them.

 

Behind and in close proximity to them, yet everything seems to scream separation. I had denied myself the hope that he would be amongst them. That I would ever see him again. 'We'll meet again', huh? I mentally shake my head. Stupid feelings to have for someone I have only just met. So I shake my head again. I don't have feelings.

 

I smirk at their impertinent leader. 'He's in the cargo hold.' The others go aboard to collect the body. Cadera remains behind. Whatever is in my chest moves and wriggles. It is struggling, like a bird trying to escape from a cage. The flutter is a quick, liquid rushing fast behind my ears. I thought that bird had been long dead. I thought someone else had killed it eight years ago. Ripped it out and left something cold and twisted in its place. And I am too scared to look.

 

He calls my attention. 'Champion.' My face is passive but heat is spreading through my body. I want this final goodbye over with. Then, I can forget. Over this year, my soul and mind have become proficient in forgetting. Because it's easier.

 

He is young. Younger than usually attracts my attention. But, I suppose, not really much older than me, as he said. Not much of anything else about him is what usually attracts my attention either. Blonde hair, and such large blue eyes. I feel disarmed under their gaze. He is unguarded. Truthful. They don't hold secrets. It puts me on my watch. Barriers entering the depths of my eyes. Secrets he will never see.

 

My 'flirting' is direct. I don't play games. Not in my job, and not with people. I don't even know if it is flirting. I have never listened to most people long enough before shooting them to know how the rest plays out after 'hey sexy'. I just don't want him to know what I'm thinking. I don't want to know what I'm thinking.

 

He shrugs his shoulders at my approaches. He explains why he wants in. I don't care why. And I don't really listen. I had seen him fight. I had seen him hunt. I was impressed. And that was enough. I have no belief in honour.

 

Gault and Mako pressure me into allowing him on board. Unnecessary but reassuring. I had not felt so many things at once, or just so many things, for years. Nine long years. I am scared. I want to say yes and no all at once. God, I'm thinking like a pubescent school girl again. Maybe I should shoot myself now... I will never let him into my soul. Unless I already have.

 

'Who could resist a face like that?' is Mako's only contribution. Not very relevant. And it grinds on my nerves. I am tempted to leave her behind on Taris. Or shoot her.

 

'I'm up for it. Ships pretty boring when your off doing your thing.' Gault's input hardly sways me either way. He's hardly on board during the days or nights when Mako and I are out. Either in a cantina cheating at Sabacc or creating scams to sell to the vendors and potentially gullible clients. Fighting with Gault is less then thrilling.

 

But being with Gault isn't so bad. We are cruel to each other. But that's how it is. It's fun. And easy. Different from being with Mako. She constantly expects better. Something warmer. Sympathetic. She is a good person. Kind of. I have never met many kind of good people, and if they are as annoying as her, I don't want to meet anymore. I don't believe there are any good people in the galaxy.

 

I can be me with Gault. Like I can with my employers. Heartless, greedy, cold, remorseless. A killer. Because I don't care for his good opinion. But it didn't matter. Gault was surprised by me still. They always are. 'You like him.' They always underestimate me.

 

The Padawn runs to their fallen Master. Weak. Stupid to let down your guard.

 

She says something. I shoot. Pow.

 

'You really did it. I didn't think you would. I mean, I would. But.' Gault screams disbelief. I think for the first time he saw me. Naked and bare. I snort in derision. Something dark and angry flows through me . It lashes out.

 

'It's a job. I completed it.' No matter what you do, people always underestimate you. It annoys me. It infuriates me. Sometimes, I think I'm living a life to prove others wrong. To prove him wrong. Nine years is a long time to make a point.

 

'This is what I do. It's what I've always done. What I was made for. Now hurry and blow this ship to hell.'

 

He seems to ignore them both, eyes fixed on mine. I look to somewhere between his eyes. 'The honour is mine, kid. I'm flattered. Welcome aboard.' My words were chosen carefully. Distant. We are not familiar. Yet.

 

His acceptance is simple. 'Thank you.' He uses few words. It appeals to me.

 

Mako and Gault remove themselves to prepare the ship. Type new coordinateness. Find new destinations. Watch the Mandoloarians. Cadera and I stand. Watching each other. I tried to avoid it. I didn't want it.

 

It is interrupted by the Mandolorians. Our gaze broken. I am released. I breathe out regret.

 

'We're done. Coming, Torian?' I make a note of the name change. Feel a little happy for the kid. Jogo seems something close to friendly.

 

He shrugs his shoulders and turns to face Jogo, standing closer to my side. 'Nope.'

 

Jogo scoffs. 'You can finally show your face and now you're running off? Try to make something of yourself, arue'tal.' Jogo does everything but spit on Cadera. Cadera only stands straighter at my side. They leave with no more words.

 

Not sure joining us was the wisest move for Cadera. But this should be still interesting. I seem to be collecting people that don't belong anywhere else. Doesn't mean they belong on my ship.

 

'Ready when you are.'

 

I wonder when that is.

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Back on board....

 

I figured he should meet the crew properly.

 

Mako is friendly. She makes a joking pass at our ship. I admit it's on the bad side. But I like it. I go along with the joke.

 

'Hey! I've done a lot to this ship! Remember what it was like when we first stole it?' We all smile. It hasn't changed.

 

'Come on, I'll give you the tour.' I feel a rush of anger after Mako and Cadera leave the room. I punch the nearest wall. I growl at the dint my fist leaves. My gloves are off. The metal implants that protect my knuckles leave four tiny pyramid indents. A light starts flashing somewhere else now. Another thing to fix.

 

'Don't like to see them get along? I mean, 'who could resist a face like that'?' Gault raises his voice into a mock impersonation of Mako's.

 

I glare at him. Then relax. I smile. 'Be nice or I'll give you an earful'. I mimic Mako's earlier warning as well. Then I shrug and turn to the beaten wall. I flex my fingers. There's slight cracking and clinking. 'Bout time Mako got some experience. I don't care if it's with the golden child.' I don't move for awhile but he takes a step or two closer.

 

'And what about you? Do you need some more experience?' He presses up behind me.

 

I snicker at him. 'I think it's you that needs the experience.' I pull my gun out and have him on the ground, pinned and defenseless, before he can even flinch.

 

I press the gun to his red forehead. 'Pow.' I lean in closer to whisper. My lips brush his ear. I can taste his lust. But I know that even that is a shallow, mocking thing.

 

'You're dead.'

 

 

----

 

If you like the idea of Bounty Hunter x Gault, he's a link to a one-shot I wrote about them :)

http://www.swtor.com/community/showthread.php?t=512127

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Taris: Cantina part 1

 

We stay on Taris for the night.

 

The cantina isn't great, but better than nothing. Debatably. And Mako did debate it. All the way to the cantina. We grab a booth in the middle of the line. It has the right vantage point. Across from the bar, can see all directions, not cornered and offers escape by both exits if needed. Gault taught me the necessity of noticing all exits when we first met. He was quick to use them.

 

After a few rounds, we make a sloppy toast to our new companion. The ale is harsh and burning as it rolls down my throat. 'Another!' I yell. Mako and Gault cheer. I wink lazily at Cadera across from me as I leave the booth, climbing over Mako.

 

I walk steadily and calmly through the dancers. I am not as intoxicated as I appear. Pretending is easier than feeling. I've been pretending for nine years.

 

I shake my head. I can't think like this. I look for a bartender but draw a blank. I climb easily onto the stool. I have missed the flexibility of normal clothes. My pants are tight elastic. Black. They hide what's underneath. My top is high and loose. My jacket large. They don't show what bulgers bellow. Jacket's old. It still shines dully in the light. Not everything can weather so many years.

 

I look back at the table. Gault isn't there. Cadera smiles slightly at something he said. Mako laughs. She throws her head back, short black hair falling away from her face. She spills her drink as her arms wave in hysterics. My lips tighten. It shifts my implants painfully. It turns to a scowl.

 

I turn to see a bartender appear. An Irodonian. Strange.

 

'Four shots of Nar Shaddaa's murkiest ale, and two shots of whatever for myself.' I am relieved to see dancers in my view of our booth.

 

Someone eases into the stool next to me. I take my first shot. It hurts. A wild fire in my stomach is lit and I smile. Sometimes, I don't mind pain.

 

'You like him.' I look over at the newcomer. Gault is smiling in my face.

 

'Forget my previous warning already?' I punch him. His smile stays a while. His hand massages the wrinkles around his jaw.

 

'Harder than usual.' He speaks with exaggerated consideration and ignores my previous comment. 'So that means... yep, you do.'

 

Another drink appears in front of me. I add it to the raging hell inside me. I imagine I have a stomach. That the acid lining of my stomach is burning and boiling. What's left unguarded starts to blister and bleed. Peeling away. It hurts. And I smile some more.

 

 

----

This part is long so I've separated it into a few parts... hope you're all enjoying.

Don't forget to comment :)

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I feel a vague need to say that there is some content in this one that might be 'disturbing' so don't read if you don't want to

 

 

 

Taris: Cantina part 2/3

 

'I don't like thi- yup, definitely don't like this'. I quickly glare at Gault. I don't turn straight away. I listen to the sound of the man's breathing and footsteps. I memorize them, measure the distance, decide his strength.

 

'Thought you would be harder to get the drop on'. I know the voice. I had never forgotten. Somewhere, it was filed away in my memory. And it came to near things best left in the dark. Covered in clothes and armour.

 

'Hi Cutie.' I slowly turn around. I make no move for my gun. I won't need it. 'I was just eager to see you again after Dromund Kaas'. I don't smile. I don't remember how sometimes.

 

He lowers his arm wearily. I knew he would. Predictable.

 

'You what-' I disarm him easily. And then I do smile. I know how to do this. I know how to take joy in this. It creeps from my chest through my body. The savage darkness. I almost reach for his neck. But his blue eyes look into mine. They pierce through the shadows. They see beyond. I am shocked. And scared.

 

'Men...' He will not see me again. 'Time to tell me what you're doing here'

 

'Ow - I deserved that.' He sounds casual. Not a man that just pointed a gun at my head. I like that. I pull him to his feet. He massages the back of his head and neck.

 

Gault's voice breaks through my trance. I had forgotten him. Not easily done. 'You like him. If I tried that, I'd be wearing my face on the back wall.'

 

My lips twitch uncertainly at the memory. Gault's eyes and voice were amused then. He doesn't look at me now.

 

'I don't like anyone.' Not for a long time. I want another drink. 'Not you. Not Mako. And not that punk Mandolorian.' I gave up hoping for good in people a long time ago. I don't know why I bother drinking anymore. Force of habit. I haven't been able to get drunk in almost a decade. Almost a decade...

I grunt and take one of the four that's for the table. In my mind, I can hear Mako's laughter, I can see Cadera's smile. I look at Gault. He is laughing. The notes lost in music, voices, and bangs. I don't like anyone.

 

Strange thoughts I'm having tonight. Too many memories. Over the chaotic noise, a man shouts. He calls to some woman. The sounds wash over me. 'I don't like anyone.' Gault continues to laugh. My foot hooks the stool and I pull it from under him. His fall doesn't create a ripple. I laugh at him and pull out my blaster. My memento. I point it at his head.

 

He looks me in the eye. His mouth twitches. Doesn't look as good on him. Am I joking? His eyes are sightless. They aren't his. I throw my blaster on the counter and lean over. My gloved fingers grab the first bottle they feel. It's a little warm, but looks good. I move to take it back to the booth. I pick up the tray with glasses. They tinkle. Gault reclaimed his thrown. No one ever sees.

 

The man is calling to the woman louder. My eyes glaze around the dim room. I see him. Large. Dark and ruffled hair. Unshaven and reeking of human. He is drunk. And a soldier. He is looking at me. Calling to me. I ignore him. I look to Gault. 'Say that again and the Hutt's will hear you're alive.'

 

When I turn back around, the man is standing in the middle of the dance floor. 'Come here sugar and share those drinks with me.' He is shouting. The music slows and voices whisper. I feel Gault slip away. Typical. I see Mako across the room reach under her skirt for a hidden vibro knife and medpacs. Cadera has moved to the end of the booth. He watches.

 

I avoid his eyes, motioning for them to stay cool. The glasses clatter in a tune as I place the tray and bottle back on the counter. The bartenders gone. Typical.

 

I grab my gun and point it at him. I take swift aim on the small red medal on his uniform. It's for honour. A dark rage runs through me. 'Put that toy down hon', and I'll give you a bigger gun to play with.' I put the blaster pistol back in the holster. It is hard against my thigh. I slowly remove my leather gloves and tuck them into my belt. My hands are soft. The metal knuckles catch the lights. Small rainbows set on silver. Nails long. Sharp.

 

I stalk them slowly. My last targets.

 

I walk to him quietly. The music starts. Sound begins again. Cautious and uncertain.

They are reeling drunk down a street and looking for some women to ****. I slip down a side street and come out in front of them.

 

I stroll up close to him, whisper something in his ear. My hands play from his neck and move down. Long nails from lack of maintenance tickling his pale skin. They slip into his pants. They stop at his groin, gently massaging. He says something about 'coming around'. My grip slowly tightens, more and more. Harder, and harder. My nails dig into his skin until I feel it burst. He gurgles in pain. Tries to form sentences but is too shocked and intoxicated to do more than stand.

 

I remember their faces. I remember their cruel touch. They leer at me. They remember too. They call things and come closer. 'Baby doll.' Moving to form a circle around me. My hands twitch above my blasters. They are perfect and soft. I'm not defenceless. And I will never run again.

 

I dig in and twist once more. Then I let go. I step back at little. I sneer. I stare into his scared and outraged eyes. I feel angry. And powerful. He sinks further down. One leg straight, the other kneeling. He finds in his ****ed up mind some sordid words.

 

They close in. I pull out my gun. A small toy. They back off at first. Wary. But then they laugh. And taunt. I shoot one in the lower torso. He keels over bleeding. It will kill him. Eventually. He shouts for his friends to attack. He's angry. He wants to make me suffer for it. I want him to suffer for me.

 

'You *********** heartless whore! You fat *********** weak ****.'

 

They all take out knives. Some also have blasters. They shout vile things. Things they will do. Like they haven't already done their worst. I smirk. I disarm them one by one. Ducking and weaving easily. They are clumsy. I am quick. And young. I have not wasted my time with him. He only taught me basics. It amused him. But I have been training for two years. Working through my list in secret. Just a few names left.

 

My fists clench. I walk up to him and punch his jaw. Skin breaks as a nail carves across it. As the metal spikes on my knuckles crush bone. 'I am not weak.' I hit him again. My thumb nail is full of blood and skin. 'I am not a whore.'

 

They are quickly all on the ground. I aim for the areas he taught me. To stop them running. Then my work begins. I make them suffer. And I make them beg like I did. And only then do I kill them. Just like them, I will show no mercy.

 

My fists become tighter. My finger nails dig into my palm. It hurts. And I smile.

 

The last cried. And whimpered. He was the first to ever touch me. And now the last to die. 'Pow.' I aim for his head. His sweaty, red, round head.

I hit him again. 'And I am only body type two.'

 

'You're dead'. I pull the trigger. I pick up the man's gun. A memento.

 

I swing my right leg around in harsh kick that comes down on the back of his head. I spit on him. The sound is loud and echoing in the silence that comes before his screams. His cheek is a jagged gash. I smile down at him. I pull my memento out and aim for the medal on his chest. I shoot. And I leave him to bleed to death. Should take three minutes.

 

I wave goodbye to his dying body bloody fingers as I walk from the cantina.

I am surround by dead men. And someone is clapping.

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So dark, so compelling...AMAZING! :p

Thanks XD I'm loving your Sith in a Pretty Dress btw, makes me laugh so hard :D

 

Also you're BH Gault short is a personal favorite of mine.

Thanks XD

For a while there I was tempted to have a Gault thing going in this story too, and then Torian appears leading to awkwardness... but I couldn't do that to Torian XD that and then Mako might of tried to move in even more :mad:

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Taris: Cantina 3/3

 

Once I leave the complex, I am chilled by the night.

 

I look to the sky. It is starless. My right hand hurts. I look down at it. Blood is seeping from four crescent shaped cuts. I drop it to wave by my side and slowly walk up a ramp to the higher level. I leave a trail behind. The stores are closed and shady figures move in the dark.

 

I sit down at a stims vendor stall. I decide not to take anything for awhile.

 

I feel empty. It is comforting to see something flowing from me. To know there is still something living in there. I want to bleed to know I'm still alive. I haven't bled in a long time. Do they even train people to use blasters anymore? I didn't even know if I still had blood. I could never bring myself to see.

 

I think of Mako and Cadera still in the cantina. I wonder if I destroyed their night... I decide not to deny myself the feeling of hope that I did. On an impulse, I write on the steel ground. I smile at the message and lie on my back. It is nice to feel the cold on my skin. Been too long since I took my armour off. Guess this is what happens when you live for suffer. And live for revenge.

 

I pull my blaster out. I shoot out to the stars. 'Pow.' I watch the laser bolt disappear. 'What if' seems to be written in the stars tonight. I hold the gun, arm straight, eye along the line. My thumb plays with the engraving underneath. It's smeared with blood.

 

His body is firm against mine.

 

I press my finger on the trigger. Bullseye. A tiny hole is left in the small red circle in the middle of rings of colour. I giggle and turn in his arms. I jump up and down. 'I did it! I did it!'

 

'You did, you did. You win. I concede, I concede.' He laughs and smiles down at me. 'But it is harder to shoot when the red circle is another man's head.'

 

I pout. 'I could do it! I could kill a man. I am not scared! I could be a Sith Warrior. Or a bounty hunter!'

 

'Don't think you'd be much of a bounty hunter. You would have to travel the galaxy just to kill a man. It's beyond you.' He pinches my cheeks. It is a derisive act of a father to a young kid. My heart beats a potent rage at it. 'You're too sweet to kill anyone.'

 

He underestimates me. 'Just you watch, General.' I back flip away and aim the gun playfully at his head. 'POW!' I say. 'You're dead.' I smile.

 

He moves quickly to disarm me. I am on the ground and his hand is at my neck. I pout. Again. He smiles and releases me. Sitting with elbows on his knees next to me. Close to me. My back hurts. And my hand. I am angry. The annoyance of a spoilt child.

 

'I want you to teach me how to do that now! I want to be able to protect myself.' He smiles at me.

 

'What about others? Or don't you like anyone else?' Always smiling.

 

'I like you. That's enough.' I think a little, though. I chew my lips and they drip blood. But I continue to do it. It hurts. I remember thinking others don't matter. They don't deserve life. It is funny how the innocent can see so clearly. At times.

 

'I want to protect myself from men. I don't want to be defenceless again.' Darker thoughts creep around my mind. Black memories. No one has ever shown the orphan girl kindness. An unprotected girl can only be used for one thing. I still feel the loathing I learnt to have for soldiers. Their vile drunkenness. I remember every time I was still on the streets too late and I could not run fast enough, cursing them. No one ever helped me. Only watched. I made a list of vendettas. A hit list. I remembered their names. And faces. Their time would come.

 

And I had seen their wars and the brutalities people show each other. Men show other men. No. There is no honour in the world. No kindness. The Empire and Republic are the same.

 

And then he leans over and kisses me. 'Then first things first... my perfect little killer.' His eyes are clear. They see me. And they smile. Small shadows dance at their depths. Eyes are gateways to the soul. And I want to see his. Like he sees mine.

 

My hand hurts. Blood has been falling down my arm. A lot. I pull up my sleeve with my free hand and watch it make trials of orange down my arm. I try not to think of the colour. I don't want to know why it's not red. They are orange vines that slither and climb up my arm, weaving between pale short hairs.

Protect myself, huh?

 

I lower my arm and lie like a star on the ground. All empty pale skin covered in black. Somehow glowing in the dim night light. Grand Champion of the Great Hunt. I want him to see me now. Strange thoughts I'm having tonight...

 

I think I'll find Gault later. Unless he already went back to the cantina and found some company... We kill time together. Get smashed. But he has never touched me. Tried. Every night. But failed. Sometimes, though, we will sit close as we drink and enjoy the proximity of another. It's nothing sexual. I know Gault doesn't really want me. Just like he doesn't really want any woman. I think it's a tiring charade to have. He never lets it down. I have a feeling there's only one person he loves and wants. So I tolerate his advances. I enjoy those nights too much to kill him yet.

 

Footsteps come. I know them. They bring certain colours to the edges of my vision. I think about rolling away. But that's all I do. Think about it.

 

'What's up, kid? Can't take the ruff housing? Or wasn't the company stimulating enough?' I smirk a little. My tone is light. I don't have much of a humour.

 

He stops and takes in my star fish form. I casually pull my sleeve down. I don't want him to see that. 'Some shabuir started to bully a woman. Now he's bleeding on the floor. Thought I'd get some air.' He continues to walk closer. Think he found me not shooting him a permission to come and talk. 'Found an interesting trail of blood. Thought I'd follow it. Seem to be making a habit of it.' He's standing over me now. I feel small. An ant. A strong, cold ant. I avoid his eyes. But I feel him smiling. Just a little. In a serious kind of way.

 

'Don't you just hate it when that happens?' I can't smile. 'Find anything interesting?'

 

He walks casually to the vender stall. I hear a few locks break and a med pack and bandages fall on my chest. I don't move. They make a 'thump' sound as they land. But I don't feel it.

 

'Possibly have.' He sits down next to me. Elbows on his knees. Close to me. The silence is empty. It's funny, how silences often aren't. It's a little ironic. They are awkward, or comforting, or terrifying. It lengthens. I don't mind. Eventually, the rustling of my movements as I sit up crackle along it like lightening down a lamp post. I start to treat my hand. It hurts. I want to smile. But I have grown tired again of bleeding. You have done your share in the past.

 

'I want to thank you for the help. Decent of you to let me in on the kill. You didn't have to do that.' His voice is deep. We sit side by side, facing different directions. Close but apart. I look at the space. My message is between us.

I think of many things to say in the silence that follows. I suppose he is a little silent. It's a nice change, after Mako and then Gault. Something continues to expand in my chest. I ignore it. Nothing can break my armour. Let it try.

 

'Just part of the hunt.' He grimaces and nods slightly. 'But I couldn't have found him without you.' It's true. I had a drastically lower chance of finding Jicoln without him. Just meant it would have taken a while longer. He smiles in that serious way again. It's small, but when you look, you can easily see it. I know what it's like to never have someone look close enough. And to be the one that doesn't look at all. 'I was almost glad to help.' I tell myself that's true too.

 

'I'd say the same. Almost.' It's that silence again. I like it. It's uniquely us. No expectations. No tension. But it's not indifferent. And not quite comfortable. 'I'm looking forward to this. Not everyone gets a chance to fight alongside the Champion of the Great Hunt.' His voice flows deep and strong with pride. Only Cadera could pull off the combination of humility, disbelief and self-satisfaction.

 

'It's quite an experience, I'll tell you that. So would Mako and Gault. Though accounts would differ.' I lie back down. 'Though I can think of better things for us to do then fight.' I don't smile.

 

He nods his head as if contemplating the positives and negatives of such amusements. It's not a philosophical debate. I can tell he's just going to be our funniest addition yet. 'Something to consider.' And in the silence that follows it seems like he has already begun considering it. I sigh. A young fool.

 

He stands up finally and moves to attention. 'Just say the word. I'm ready to move out.' Not the direction I had in mind... But I know my advances are hollow. Guess I know I only make them because he won't take me up on it.

 

I climb to my feet as well, as the sun quickly rises. So early already. 'Off to the next **** hole it is.'

 

And so will begin our first adventure as four. Oh what exciting adventures await. I roll my eye to myself and crack my neck. At least it will be interesting. It is different from being alone. Haven't decided if that interesting is better or worse. I stretch a little as he walks away.

 

I look down at my own blood.

 

It hurts : )

 

'A little ironic. When you think about it.'

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On the ship

 

-----

 

When I return to the ship, I wash my hands. And put on my armour. I give orders to Gault to set course for Nar Shaddaa. He's more than a little thrilled to hear it.

 

I can tell Mako's angry with me. Touchy girl. She hides in her room and storms past me in the corridors. Don't think she liked me ruining her time with Cadera and stealing the blonde punk from her. Didn't mean to. But I did want to... But she'll come round. I figure I'll wait for it in my room.

 

I have mail. It's Mandalore.

 

'... I understand Jicoln's boy is with you now. Take care of him. He's got a legacy to carry on.'

 

I sit. Still and unmoving, repeating the words over. Hours pass. I think Mako does come in at some stage. But I stay still. Something stops my body from moving. My mind thinks of things to say to her but they never leave my mouth. I'm sending the messages but it doesn't happen.

 

'Take care of him.' As if he would ever let me. Not running a day care center.

 

But I keep reading it again, the letters burned onto my eye. I suppose it's what people called 'stunned'. It's in uncomfortable thought. But it has trapped my mind. A large part of me wants to move. Find a new place to go. Get some more credits and seek my revenge. There's a galaxy out there I want to see. Because I am finally free. After many long years I am free. Hunted. But free.

 

Yet I stay. And sit. I am caged and petrified by a few words. And a boy.

 

Gault comes and goes. I start to move. Push ups. Stretches. Weights. My body is aching dully as it tears itself apart. But I still think. About a lot and nothing. Part of me that I don't recognise, that I refuse to recognise, is blissful. And it chatters. Yet I refuse to listen. Thinking everything and hearing nothing.

 

And so night comes. And I sleep.

 

In my dreams, I am killing men. When I wake, I am in the cockpit. A blaster in my hand.

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Later, while docked briefly on Nar Shaddaa for no reason...

----

 

'So, what do you think of Torian? Cute, huh?'

 

I momentarily stiffen and stop half way through my thirty eighth morning push up. But then I quickly continue. I glare hard into the steel floor under me. Don't remember ever allowing her to come into my room. And I don't think cute is the word I would apply to Cadera.

 

I don't look at Mako as she moves from the door way to my bed, sitting cross legged on the corner. Definitely don't remember inviting her in.

 

I don't reply. And after a particularly long, hostile silence she continues oblivious.

 

'I like him. I was thinking I might make a move on him. What do you think?'

 

'Over that punk on Nar Shaddaa already? Someone bounces back quick. Though you did spend four weeks crying into your gizka toy at night...' I lie still a while on my back and then make my way to the weights in the corner of the room.

 

'Hey! How do you know about that?' I don't reply and just smirk at her weak, blushing form. 'Whatever. Anyway, what do you think?'

 

'I think you're mistaking me for someone who cares. Do whatever you want. I'm not your mother. Just don't do it on my ship.'

 

She giggles. The sound is annoying and makes me scowl. 'Do you think I have a chance?'

 

I drop the weights onto the ground and turn to her slowly. 'How the **** would I know? Go ask the stupid Mando punk, Mako. **** you're annoying.'

 

I pick up my blaster and walk out of my room. I pass Cadera at my doorway. Seems I'm popular tonight... I smirk at him and as I walk past I carelessly say, 'wanna come kill some Black Suns?' I heard him standing there five minutes ago. I know he heard almost everything. And I'm not sure how that makes me feel.

 

He silently follows, picking up his tec-staff as we make our way off the ship.

 

When we return, an angry Mako is waiting for me. And I think about killing her.

 

----

 

 

 

Just gonna say, haven't had the Torian / Mako thing thank god, and so I like the thought of him not really liking her, finding her annoying, and consistently choosing the BH over her.

Interpret how you like ;):p

 

 

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