Stranded






“Freakin’ Twin Suns of Tatooine!” a helmeted man cursed, kicking the metal hull-armor of his Arakyd Industries Interceptor-Class Helix light freighter/starfighter, The Flir, with the tip of his steel toed combat boots, which were now aged and covered in fine dust from years of use.

The fair-skinned Humanoid male threw his customized flight helmet onto the reflective floor, revealing two small horns coming from his head down to his neck. The man was obviously a human-Iktotchi hybrid. He was dressed in a simple, old and rugged Imperial-issue pilot’s jumpsuit from the days of the Galactic Civil War, but his helmet was a customized and modified Rebel Alliance helm. Around his waist was a thick leather belt, which carried a sheathed vibro-short sword and a small blaster pistol along with many leather packs.

“Can I help you with something, Mister?” an elderly Astorian asked him, walking towards him.

“Not unless you can tell me where I can get a brand new engine and drives for my Helix here,” the man sighed, wiping grease from his hands with an old, red rag.

“You could check the Bazaar, Mr?” the man asked.

“Flir. Brant Flir,” Brant nodded and shook the man’s hand.

“Well, Mr. Flir,” the man smiled, “Welcome to the Astral Astoria. May I ask what your business here is?"

“Sure, but first, know any place to get something to drink? And maybe some food?” Brant asked, looking around the beautiful, antique-like station’s huge docking bay.

“Of course. Follow me,” the elderly Astorian, who obviously came from human stock, nodded, and then showed Brant out of the Downport, and to the Bar District on the 111th floor.

* * *

As they sat at a table in a noisy bar, Brant sipped his drink, a mug of steaming stim-caf, while the elderly humanoid gulped his glass of some sort of exotic ale. “You’re sure I can’t buy you something with a little more kick in the guts?”

“Yes. I’m a pilot who makes a living bounty hunting and doing mercenary jobs. I don’t have the luxury to be under the influence of anything,” Brant explained taking another sip of his caf.

The old man’s interest seemed to perk up suddenly. “A bounty hunter? Why are you here?”

Brant raised an eyebrow as he smelled the scented steam of his mug’s contents before answering, “I just got done with a job as a mercenary for a group of smugglers down the Hydian Way a bit. They needed an escort for a group of transports carrying some sort of expensive item. But then they turned on my once reaching the destination, destroying my sublights and damaging my hyperdrive. I made a blind-jump and ended up here. So I didn’t get paid, and now I have to repair my ship. So, what kind of price do you think I can fetch on a new Arakyd sublight and hyperdrive kit? It’s an Incom GBp-629 Hyperdrive unit.”

“I’d say 21 Grand for you,” them man quoted.

“What! I barely have enough to live as it is!” Brant sighed, but then looked up, “Well, it’s been great. See you around. I need to get a job.” With that he poured the rest of his stim-caf into a synthi-foam cup and left the bar. The elderly man fidgeted nervously in his chair before also leaving, after buying a bottle of the finest of course…

Dagon watched the Bounty Hunter exit the bar in a haste and trudge away. Being a relatively young Bounter Hunter himself, Dagon knew the feeling of getting "stiffed" on a payment and he quickly jumped beside the half-human.

"Sorry," he began. "But, I couldn't help over-hearing your predicament that you've found yourself in. I happen to have a job that I'm currently working on. I could use a hand with it, if you're interested of course." Dagon was holding his own helmet at his side in his right hand, he quickly switched hands and offered his right, "good" hand out to the fellow Hunter. "I'm Dagon, a Hunter like yourself."

Brant studied the other bounty hunter for a few seconds, taking in all the possible consequences teaming up with this man might cause. But he need money. Lots of it. And, it was part of the Bounty Hunters' Creed that a hunter should help another hunter if help is asked for...

He was Corellian, or at least that was Brant's guess. If he was right, he would be a wonderful asset in a fight. And the way the other hunter held himself told of military experience. A man of honor.

Brant took the gloved off his own hand and pressed it at the other hunter, shaking his hand. "Mr. Crescent. I'm Jacen Crescent, a fellow hunter," Brant told the man, using an alias he had used during a Hutt job a few years back, "So, what's the job? And what's the payout? I won't take less that 35%."

Dagon smiled lightly as he took in Jacen's hand. "It's a straight forward job, I assure you of that," he released the handshake and switched his black helmet back to his right arm. "Jamas Thuriel, some rich Twi'Lek who hangs out in the Casino Level, has had one too many losses against some Human gambler. Thuriel doesn't like to lose, as can be expected and aside from this human he's the best Pazaak player in the Casino," Dagon looked around quickly ensuring no one was within hearing range. "Basically we have to eliminate the human, payout from Thuriel is close to ten thousand - we'll split the job 60 - 40."

Dagon waited for a moment, of course this job was too easy for two people. Why would Dagon even offer to take Jacen in on it? "There is one more part to it though. I know a lot about Thuriel, he's stiffed a few acquaintances of mine so I don't trust that he'll pay up. With the current situation, he won't want this man dead and then flee to avoid payment - I think he's going to want us dead. Thuriel has a Rodian body guard who leads a small band of thugs - they shouldn't prove too much of a problem, but if we plan to collect we'll need to eliminate the Rodian and his thugs so that there will nothing between us and Thuriel."

Dagon paused, waiting for Jacen to take it all in and assess the information. "We still need to go over some planning and to assign who's going to do what and where and such, but the job is pretty straight forward."

4, 000 Galactic Standard Credits! That would mean that he was that much closer to his new drive units. Brant allowed himself to smile. There was the chance that this Thuriel gambler might not pay-up, but even if he tried to flee, he'd have a partner to help corner him.

"Alright, deal," Brant nodded, and then drained the last of his stim-caf from its synthi-foam cup, and dumped the cup into a trash-vaporizer, "So, let's get down to the logistics.

"I've got a ship. Its an Arakyd Industries Interceptor-Class Helix light freighter/starfighter, but the drives are shot. The weapon systems, shields, and repulsorlifts are still active. I'm decent with blasters and ranged weaponry, but my true calling is melee weapons with polearms.

"So, what do you want me to do?"

Dagon ushered Brant over and started walking towards a lift that would take them to the Casino Level and face to face with their upcoming paycheque.

"Thuriel seems to keep himself in a certain booth while he's not gambling. It keeps him close to a secondary exit for a quick getaway, or whatever he plans for. When we get there we'll locate our target and set-up for that. I'm going to have you guard Thuriel in case he tries any sort of retreat from the scene; I'll find myself a good spot to collect our bounty from afar, undetected," The two hunters stepped into the lift and it shot upward. "The entire level will likely erupt into chaos so you need to keep an eye on Thuriel - luckily he and his thugs don't know you're in on it so you can probably get pretty close without them realizing anything. After I take my shot I'll try and rendezvous with you on the other side of Thuriel; during the comotion I'd like you to take out his thugs as quickly and as cleanly as possible," Dagon turned to Brant and smiled. "Of course, we don't to have to deal with any authorities tonight."

"Got it," Brant said, planning his move, and then handing his new partner a special customized commlink, "Here, use this. It is specially made to keep out standard public, commercial, and police taps. Use the channel 13."

As they stepped out of the lift onto the casino level and pulled out a small dagger from one of his packs and loaded its clip with a nuerotoxin. "This'll be nice and clean. Don't cause too much trouble."

With a smiled they entered the casino. "So where is his booth?"

Dagon took the commlink in his hand and began turning it over, examining it's features and then setting it to channel 13 before looking up to address Brant's question. He nodded over into Thuriel's direction before speaking. "There he is, on the left with that Rodian slimeball standing over him. His thugs shouldn't be too far from him so be careful - you should be able to take a spot on the end of the bar there. You'll be able to hear them and keep a tab on them without 'em noticing you,' Dagon looked around for a moment trying to find his target.

"There's my man, playing another game of Pazaak... I'll take my time with this one - Thuriel is probably stewing right now watching him win more and more money. Watch the Rodian though, he may look like a fool, but if he catches on to what you're up to... he's like an angry rancor," Dagon smiled and turned away taking off towards a staircase that spiraled up to overlook the Casino Hall.

Brant smiled to himself as he positioned himself at a bar, and then looked down the table at the other patrons. They were all there counting credit tokens and drinking some sort of exotic beverage. To his right and back a little was Thuriel and his Rodian bodygaurd. He could smell the thug's stench even from here.

"What will it be?" the gruff bartender asked, drying a glass with a white rag. "Something exotic. Suprise me," Brant sighed and threw fiveteen credits in the barman's direction, and then looked around the casino. He immediately spotted Dagon walking down a row of gambling machines and tables. Near-by a thuggish-like gambler was eyewink him intently.

"Dagon, Jacen here," Brant said into his jumpsuit's collar where the comlink was hidden, "You've got one of Thuriel's thugs on your six. Be careful. Over."

"Is your guy in place?" the Twi'lek demanded frighteningly., "If this goes wrong we could be in some trouble. He's a good fighter."

"Don't worry. Dagon won't survive this one. The moment he finishes the job he'll be 'taken care of', so relax," the Rodian bleeped in his own tounge.

"I hope so," Thuriel nodded.

"Oh, Sithspit! Dag-" Brant started but then a puckered hand fell on his collar, crushign the comlink.

"And who are you?" the Rodian demanded angrily...

Dagon heard Brant but remained calm and casual, hoping not to show his concern or the realization that he was being watched. Brant came back onto the comm and began to speak again before the commlink went dead. "Brant? Brant?" As Dagon began to walk along the railing that observed the casino from above he chanced a look at Brant who was seeminly being interrogated by the Rodian. "In the name of the Emperor!" Dagon cursed under his breath. He continued along the railing, hoping Brant will be able to find a way out of the situation. Dagon suddenly came to an unlikely conclusion - did he really need to kill the human now, his target? It had become clear of Thuriel's intentions - the fool had shown himself too early and now. Dagon began to get into position, concealed from the public he set-up his blaster. It was a modified blaster pistol with an digital enhancer scope.

He took the pistol and centred it on the human for a moment before swining it sideways to lock onto the thug pursuing him now up the staircase. The blaster quickly shot off striking one of the Twi'lek thugs in the chest sending him flying backwards down the staircase. Leaping out of the cover, the hurried bounty hunter made his way towards the railing. He leapt over the side and plunged down to the casino level floor.