Private Hunting a Hunter-Killer

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OriVerda

OriVerda

Initiate
Sith Confederacy
Galactic Empire
Mandalorian Clans
Apr 14, 2023
29
0
1
29
A lone Fang-class fighter, far from home, rested listlessly in geosynchronous orbit around one of the most backwater of backwaters in the universe. From inside the cockpit of the starfighter came an inquiry in the form of electronic hums and beeps, "Beee-reet, dee-deet. Dee-deet?" The pilot looked at his instruments once again to double-check once again, maybe something had changed since the last six times he checked.

No, it didn't seem like it had. "This is the place." Came a curt reply from the pilot. "Be-reet?" No change the seventh time either, "This, is the place."

While the droid, understandably, was unable to compute the logic of a hunter-killer droid last being seen on this remote world, its human companion was preoccupied with tuning the subspace transceiver to isolate broadcasts for those only from the planetary system. Frong, homeworld of the Frong species, was the last known location of V9-G8 and its associates. This renegade HK-series droid is the target of a bounty offered by what once was the Trade Federation. With any luck, its mere existence on the planet would be enough for at least one bored or, alternatively, terrified radio host to broadcast a sighting.
 
The man's gamble at waiting for any sort of exposing or helpful in the least broadcast would fail him wholeheartedly albeit this was entirely due to one aspect the man had thought of, fear. V9-G8 and his associates had rooted themselves into the local populace with such villainy that the mere mention of their name had become a myth about summoning about bad omens even. The three foreigners had taken up a bunker beneath the streets as their base and it was there that they used slave labour when it came to about testing experiments on or using them for the manual labor behind other jobs. The three villains' long list of deeds would only grow as each second passed....

Nay, the man would have to come planetside to get what he desired, which was surely answers no? And surely someone would be willing to answer them, no? Well at least one way or another he'd get an answer out of one of the locals, be it with fists, blasters, knives, or perhaps credits.....
 
It had been several hours since the droid and pilot had arrived in the system and started scanning communications for a lead. In that time, the pair had been subjected to all manner of broadcasts wholly unrelated to their mission. They ranged from local news to an upcoming sporting event to the most horrendous excuse for music since Daav Maxis branched out into the Calypso genre. The people of Averam still hadn't recovered.

"Dee-reet, dee?" There was no response from the droid's companion. The pilot remained motionless, head lulled to his right and arms crossed across his chest. "Dee-reet, dee?!" The droid repeated, louder and with consternation. After what seemed like 9e+15 femtoseconds, an eternity in droid time, the droid's human companion stirred.

"Beee-dee, bree-deet?" asked the droid, in a slightly mocking tone. Its reply came with a series of groans and sighs. "I wasn't asleep. I was meditating." The pilot stretched his arms and legs as much as he was able to within the confined space of the starfighter's cockpit to the background noise of more horrible music and the teasing beeps of his droid companion. He switched off the subspace transceiver and examined a map of the planet, looking for larger settlements on the primary continent. "I guess we're doing this the old-fashioned way."


The Fang-class starfighter cut through the clouds on rapid approach with one of Frong's settlements. It wasn't Raxulon or Sundari, but it still counted as a decent-sized city, albeit one without a more proper spaceport. Instead, the city had a landing field just on the outskirts. From above, the pilot could see only one other ship, an old HWK-290, and noted the distinct lack of a control tower explaining, why no one but his droid companion had given him an earful for going exactly 0.44 kilometers per hour over standard New Republic atmospheric speed limits.

Settling down on the old and cracked duracrete in a zone adjacent the light freighter, the droid and its pilot friend climbed out of the craft and heading into town. Wordlessly, the duo passed through the streets, taking in the sights and mood of the locals. There was a distinct sense of dread in the air, but for the man, it was difficult to pinpoint whether that was because his quarry was near or due to his own presence. Before long, they had made it to the same place where every single bounty hunter in the galaxy since the days before the Old Republic inevitably ended up in search for leads: a cantina.
 
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The Fang-class starfighter cut through more than merely the clouds, it coming up onto several of the seemingly haphazardly placed monitor screens that adorned the lab and office areas of the bunker. Even the garage/mechanic area bore a single large screen that had it's feed split up into several micro channels of security though only one was feed from outside the rest were the honeycombed contents of the bunker. And while this itself wasn't a threatening matter it was nonetheless an intriguing matter as the ship itself posed an opportunity to get some quick resale credits, hack it up and sell it by the bits, or to potentially customize it to improve it. Beyond this it surely had at least one non-droid occupant meaning any organic material could be used for lab experiments to boot.

So when this camera feed was seen by the likes of Elos, whom was V9's Verpine ally and one of his only confidants, he'd immediately begin hastily making his way to the droid "Boss". Finding him in a lab with Orto, the pair's other ally and confidant, an Aqualish Male performing various experiments, morbid in the eyes of some surely.

" Ayyo', G8 just saw a purrty lookin' Fang-class on the security feed. Reckon' we can nab it and it's pilot, possibly crew, and make a profit while adding more meat to y'all's uh...shopping list, heh, heh, hehh. "

Chuckling aloud the sentient bug would proceed to turn on his heel before gathering up the boys, not needing to know that G8 would already be with the job. In fact, several moments after this encounter G8 would finish up his current work, or in the least allowing Orto to finish it while the HK-droid in hiding went about cleaning the gore and debris from it's metallic exterior. Proceeding then to go over the recorded security footage G8 would replay it over and over and over again...Analyzing every single millisecond of the feed. Pulling a heavy, but rugged looking armored cloak over itself the otherwise frail looking Verpine would lead on a small gang of four other individuals ranging from a ramshackled together hybrid-droid, two Nightbrothers from Dathomir who excelled as sellswords/guns for hire, and a single towering Wookie who was notably missing patches of fur and bore heavy scarring on these naked spots which were signs of past abuse and slavery.

" Let's hit the streets boys. "

Doing so the geared up group of criminals would begin to patrol the streets up top.
 
In a moment of serendipity, the criminals began their patrol just as the armoured man and his droid friend entered a local cantina, completely unaware that danger lurked outside. Inside the cantina, the patrons notably quieted down when the stranger made his entrance. Only the soft notes of a local song resounded in the background, creating a tense atmosphere. Nevertheless, the man made his way to the bar and sat, keeping his back towards the wall and the entrance within his sightline.

A few patrons left, while others spoke in hushed tones. Most had resumed their conversations. The bartender, a local creature with twitching face-tubules, approached the man cautiously. Speaking softly in Galactic Basic, the bartender asked, "Wh-what'll you have?"

The man replied in Mando'a, "Keep an eye out for trouble."

The bartender looked confused, then the man continued in Basic, "Gossip, what's the latest word around town?"
 
" Now that we're done with the hard way...Tell us, where'd you see that chrome dome head to boyyo'?! "

Along with his small crew the Verpine had jumped one of the locals and needlessly beat them for information. And once they had gotten those directions out of the man they would head toward the cantina they had been pointed toward. The brood would then stomp their way on over there, with Elos pausing the group just a block or so away from the place. There they'd pay off some more locals this time to have three of them go into the cantina and give the "Chrome Dome" a hard time.

Once inside these three average looking Xenos would fumble around in search for their quarry, picking them out eventually without wasting too much time. After a small chat they'd then proceed to head on over to the individual in question.

" Gossip is that you're lookin' for trouble..."

" Or that you're the trouble...."

" We don't like outsiders. "
 
That was quick, the man thought. If only all bounties came to him, he'd never have to spend days meticulously tracking and planning his moves. Of course, the downside here was that he was unprepared and had to improvise. The man looked at the aliens and briefly sized them up, taking note of their weapons and armour. Then, he nodded toward the exit.

"Let's take this outside, then."
 
[ooc; the Verpine did not go inside with his crew, they paid some locals/threatened them to go hassle you, you do not know your Bounty is here.]

" Outside?! HAHAHAHAHAHA! "

" HAHAAHAHAHAHA! "

At that point the third individual would spit a thick substance from their mouth which would expand to about the size of a tablecloth and would threaten to cover the Bounty Hunter's head/torso area. Meanwhile one would use their tail in attempt to snake it forward along the ground nonchalantly in hopes of latching onto the Hunter's left ankle before throttling them around with their prehensile tool. All of this would unfold while the third would grab a nearby chair in attempt to back up his comrades.
 
At the first sign of one of his accosters gathering up mucus with the intention of spitting, the bounty hunter swiftly attempted to rise from his seat and draw his blaster rifle from a side holster. However, in his haste, the bounty hunter had not noticed the tail slowly snaking its way around his leg. It didn't fully wrap around him, but it caused enough imbalance to make him struggle to find footing, narrowly evading the incoming spit.

Just as he regained his footing, he swiftly swung his blaster rifle around, unleashing a barrage of wild shots into the air. The rapid blaster fire was intended to stagger his adversaries and create a momentary diversion. Seizing the opportunity, the bounty hunter aimed his sights on the third thug, the one who had grabbed a nearby chair, intending to unleash a precise and calculated shot to disable him, aiming for a non-lethal strike to neutralize the immediate threat.
 
Shooting in the air was effective enough to catch the first two "thugs" off guard causing them to momentarily pause while the chair-user went ahead and got shot down as aimed for. Rolling on the floor in agony now this would leave the others to themselves though thanks to being left alone the "second thug" would continue his tail's snake-like adventure now realizing an actual grip on the man's unattended leg. Flinging him into a nearby booth full of four various Xeno-species patrons, their drinks, and the table between them the hired-thug would seek to cause as much immediate mayhem as possible. Meanwhile the first hired-thug would begin to spit globs of spit-cement in rapid fire sequence in hopes of hitting its target this time, all the while pelting patrons and the establishment in the process.
 
Steadying himself to his feet, the bounty hunter noticed just in time the globs of hardening saliva being fired in a rapid sequence with increasing accuracy, inching closer and closer to his position. He took off with a wild dash in an effort to avoid the spitter's attacks all the while firing his blaster in the general direction of the spitter while frantically dodging tables and chairs, as the cramped cantina left him with limited space to maneuver.
 
Even with the frantic shots from the blaster the next Xeno "thug" would fall next, literally croaking aloud before hitting the floor face first. However around the same time the third Xeno would act once more, this time rushing in and attempting to snatch up the Bounty Hunter with not only their powerful arms, but their snake-like tail too for an extra hold. Croaking and bellowing all the while the "thug" would ponder on his fallen allies all the while.
 
The third alien, with its snake-like properties, successfully managed to sneak up while the bounty hunter was distracted and restrain him. The man struggled to break free from the grip as the alien further constricted his movements, he was unable to escape on his own. "Droid!" he cried out.

"Dwee!" came the response as RS13, the bounty hunter's trusty droid companion moved with haste to fling itself at the snake-like alien's head.
 
CLONK!

A loud cracking sound would echo out upon collision of droid into flesh and bone. Falling over as they began to suffer from concussions the other ruffian would remain motionless for the time being leaving. This would leave the Bounty Hunter in a nearly empty cantina with any remaining occupants put on edge and left nigh shaking, in some cases indeed trembling, as they eyed down the individual who had just killed three natives.
 
With the fight over and his assailants expired, the man relaxed ever so slightly. The fearful gaze of the remaining cantina patrons sent a pang of guilt down his spine, but this wasn't the first time he had witnessed such a look, and in his heart, he knew it would be far from the last.

"Go back to your drinks," he said firmly as he retook his seat at the bar.

It was likely that even this backwater planet had a law enforcement agency, one that presumably adhered to at least a few of the same laws followed by the wider galaxy, hopefully including those related to the Bounty Hunters' Guild. This should grant him a degree of security when asked why a man who had landed roughly an hour ago had gunned down three citizens. If not, he'd have to rely on them not being completely corrupt and simply provide them with RS-13's footage of the incident. It was a risk to stay, as he could still end up in a cell or worse, but he needed the information on his target.

"Sorry for the mess," he said to the bartender, placing a circular-shaped device on the counter. "I'm looking for this droid. Have you seen it?" The device flashed alive and emitted a bluish hologram of a tall droid designated V9-G8.
 
The bartender in question would nonchalantly drop an obvious cybernetic limb onto the table, dragging it slowly across the damp plasteel surface until it went CLANG against an emptied shot glass. Glaring, but with a note of sympathy, at the Mandalorian the Bartender would then speak.

" Droid? Nah. That one? Nah. We mostly just have the wee ones around here, those uh Astros and the GONKs! Nothin' like what you're lookin' for, least not that I've seen. "

In reality V9-G8 had been the reasoning behind the Bartender's..."condition" which was actually a case much deeper than a cybernetic klaw that replaced their lost hand...In fact they had their legs removed and replaced with a nest of tentacles, and a left arm from the shoulder that had been replaced with one foreign Xeno appendage along with a smaller, but additionally different arm to boot.

" Free world though, look for whatcha' want. "

Unknown to those inside though a Verpine and his followers had already finished setting up their ambush outside....
 
Something felt off about the bartender, sadly the bounty hunter's antisocial tendencies left him lacking in certain observational skills. Nonetheless, the bartender's peculiarities couldn't be easily ignored. While traversing the galaxy, the hunter had encountered strange beings with even stranger customs, but this bartender was truly anomalous. Mismatched cybernetics and unusual body grafts adorned their form. Unless this creature was a trendsetter, it seemed unlikely that their condition was a mere fashion statement.

Fortunately, the hunter wasn't the mastermind of this operation.

With a brief nod of farewell to the bartender, he stood up from his seat and navigated his way to a quiet, unoccupied corner for a private conversation with his companion.

RS13 emitted a mournful "Dwooo..." as it noticed a dent in its exterior shell. The bounty hunter, speaking in Mando'a, addressed the droid, "Later. What have you discovered?"

RS13 replied, "Beee-reet, dee-deet." The bounty hunter cast a glance back at the bartender, his helmet hiding any visible reaction. He hadn't noticed, but the RS13's deduction was astute. "Dee-dee, ree-beeet," the droid continued. This revelation surprised the hunter; typically, when he caused a disturbance in a cantina, at least someone would hasten to apprehend the troublemakers. Yet, there was no response whatsoever. Something was definitely amiss, but the bounty hunter couldn't afford to linger in the cantina indefinitely. It was time to depart. He made his way towards the exit, he cast a cautious glance around the outside, his senses on high alert. He ensured the coast was clear before taking a single deliberate step outside.
 
" RELEASE THE REAPKAS! "

As soon as eyes had been laid upon the Bounty Hunter in question those outside would open a series of cages that would release....several large reptilian-esque creatures all bipedal, but without arms. Large mouths were full of razor sharp fangs and despite their spikes, savage tempter, etc. they had some sort of natural...cuteness to them. That was because these "Reapkas" were actually mutated Gizka, nearly twice as large, now having clawed feet, some spikes around their bodies, along with the razor sharp teeth that had two rows for rapid replacement when necessary. Bounding across the way and screaming as they did so these beasts would attempt to swarm the front half of the cantina, some not even attempting to go for the door, others aiming for walls or windows.
 
The bounty hunter uttered quick expletive as he swiftly unleashed a steady barrage of blaster fire upon the menacing swarm of creatures. However, his primary weapon was designed for raw firepower rather than rapid-fire capability, hindering his ability to eliminate the creatures swiftly. Backing away cautiously, he continued firing methodically.

In a desperate plea, he turned towards the bartender, raising his voice, "I could use a hand here!" Hoping to rally assistance from the bartender, he sought to repel the creatures that posed a threat not only to himself but also to the cantina, if only in terms of potential property damage.
 
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