Ord Mantell

[Crixus]

Crix's robotic hand twitched a little bit as he walked past the casino. He could sense the eyes of the gamblers and thug's eyes examining him. Their eyes were looking for a weak spot in his cybernetic armor, seeing if his small body had any signs of fragility. Someone wearing that kind of armor was compensating for something. Under his helmet he smiled. Let them look. The brown and red armor he wore was not just for show, nor was it easily earned. The blaster marks and blade scratches made that obvious.

 

He even glanced at some of the thugs near the building and gave his shoulder a wipe and raised his head, taunting them to come at him. The humans looked away, not interested in getting in any unnecessary fights at the moment. However, at that moment, Crix felt a small tug at his waist. Instinctively he spun around, his robotic hand opened and grabbed a small furry head of the being daring to try to pickpocket him. The Chadra-fan screeched in pain as Crix lifted the extremely short rodent into the air. What an annoyance. Crix considered the brown furred rodent for a moment, wondering if it would be more trouble then it was worth to teach this punk a lesson. He had places to be after all. Then he remembered the thugs.

 

Thank you for providing me this opportunity rodent Crix chuckled, to which the Chandra-fan gave a pained curious look. Suddenly and violently he slammed the pest into the ground raised him up again, spun, and tossed him in one direction a few feet. The Chandra-fan barely had a moment to look up before seeing Crix's boot come crashing into him, kicking him into the street. Crix watched a moment as the Chandra-fan remained still though breathing, then turned to the onlookers. Some of them were smiling, happy to see the pickpocketer get humiliated, others were shifting nervously not wanting to become a target.

 

Nobody touches me. . He gave the thugs the briefest moment of a stare. The quickly looked away again, this time more nervously. The lesson was taught. He walked away from the scene, enjoying the attention he just earned.

 

Eventually, Crix arrived at what he guessed was the Sandorne Palace. It took him a bit to wade through the crowds, but eventually found himself at a receptionist. My name is Crixus, here to pick up a bounty on the recommendation of Milku.. He grinded his teeth at saying the name of his last benefactor. That slimy hutt had tried to double cross him and ended up losing a piece of his tail. If it wasn't for the other hutts, he would've killed him on the spot. To whom do I need to speak to?

[Crixus]

Crix took the datapad and without looking back at the, what he deemed the 'rude' receptionist, gave the bounty's a look, starting at the bottom, what he figured were the longest, and thus hardest bounties were. He was slightly disappointed at the rather short list, but made do. He smirked a bit at the last one. It wasn't worth chasing across the galaxy for a frail old man who was a member for a religion of superstitions. Plus the reward money wasn't worth the trip, despite being easy. The only superstitions he believed in was that of the arena: A happy crowd makes lots of money, and a killing spectacle made a happy crowd.

 

He passed over the Hapan princess. Capturing nobility had its attractions, and while it could be fun to ambush a Hapan in a room darkened by the cold night, he would have a lot of people trying to catch him on the way out. He marked it as a potential job later on, but for now, he wanted something different.

 

That left the Tuskan. He mused for a moment. He had seen and even killed one or two of those savage beings when he worked for the hutts on a few jobs on Tatooine. They were fierce, though primitive. They typically only bothered locals, and even then a good blaster in a trained handcould scare them off. Why would Black Sun want....

 

He stopped breathing for a moment. The reason: Abandonment of Contract. A person who had given their word to do a job, whether it was to hunt someone, protect another, or do a simple delivery, and then didn't follow through. Maybe he was alone, maybe he turned on his team. One word came to Crix's lips and was not picked up by the speakers in his helmet; a word he hated to the very core of his being.

 

Traiter

 

Images flashed for a moment in his head. Faces long ago. Old teammates. His robotic hand scratched the holster along his side where the engraved name of Dressak Skel was underneath on the illegal weapon. Yes, this bounty... a perfect bounty for a warrior like himself. Tuskan vs Nexu. The Savage and the Beast, in a battle to the death.

 

Mark this dirty sandperson as taken He dropped the pad onto the desk and walked away. He's as good as dead.

 

It took a while for the gank to hire a ship to take him to Tatooine. Crix reasoned that Tatooine would be the best place to start looking. As far as he knew, Tuskans never left that desert planet. If he could get there, he could question the cantinas, maybe attack some of the tribes, get an idea for where he may have gone and get some practice at killing some of those savages before the real deal. He eventually found a squat fat human with a palm as greasy as a jawa's. The human's cargo ship heading to that distant planet with what Crix guessed were illicit goods, and he mentioned that he needed some muscle, just in case the locals tried to delay his shipment. The mention of Crix used to working for the hutts seemed to make the man appreciate him more. They both knew what was happening in the ship. A good bodyguard would warn away some of the trouble. As the man piloted the ship into space, Crix sat next to the large containers, tapping a vibrodagger against his armor. With each clink, he visualized his old team mates faces.

 

This will be fun he breathed, clinking his knife again and again.

[Crixus]

As Crix got off the freighter, not even nodding to the driver or the Ugnaught passenger, his thoughts were about how heavy the jetpack he carried on his back was. It had been empty of fuel to help carrying it, but since it had not been adjusted to a being of his size or stature yet, it was slightly unbalanced for him to carry. Still, after he turned in the bounty, the credits would go towards repairing and adjusting it for him. Just as long no one challenged him before then, everything would be fine.

 

Crix could see the palace in the distance. Gamblers and bouncers were still around, no doubt so were the pickpockets. Little changed since Crix had left. He was fine with that. Maybe Nar Shaddaa would be the same. Crix did have to stop once, not out of tiredness but because he could've sworn he saw that brown rodent who tried to robbed him before. A glare and a scan made him realize he had the wrong rodent. Still, he never could have been too careful. When the rodent gave a rude gesture to the gank for staring, Crix simply growled, and began to grab that weapon he had grabbed from Tatooine. But he stopped short as he brought it out. The pain over his body made him pause. The burns were still hindering him slightly. A feeling began to build inside of him. A burning rage, still hot from the wounds on Tatooine. But this rage felt aimless. The Chandra-fan was certainly a target for rage, but a pointless one. No one else was staring at the Gank and the Chandra-fan was most likely harmless. Why the unnecessary rage?

 

He shoved the thoughts aside, placed the weapon back at his side and moved onwards to the Palace. As he entered and found another receptionist, he groaned inside at seeing it was the same one as before and not a replacement.

 

I'm here about the bounty on Roarer or however you pronounce his name Crix said, carelessly dropping a copy of the holovid from his helmet. The Holovid contained the entire bounty from when he had gotten onto Tatooine. It Black Sun Superior's wanted to review his work, they would see Crix's work with the flying beast, the ghosts and the fight alongside the Mandalore (if they registered at all on the holovid), and the death in the cavern. Crix had manually edited the file so that way it ended before he had grabbed the weapon. This should be enough proof of his death. I'm here for my payment, as well as any information about a Canderous of Mandalore Crix wondered if Canderous had any bounties on him or not, but even if he didn't it wouldn't hurt to check.

[Crixus]

Crix's fingers quickly snatched up the card and pocketed it before a word could be said. Secured and hidden away from any prying eyes, Crix turned his attention back to the receptionist.

 

"Thats a lot of Canderous'es. But the one I encountered seemed a bit more...unique. As Crix listened to what the receptionist said, his eyes widened at the offer of the money. A million credits for six months of spywork?

 

Before I agree to anything, what exactly is Black Sun's relation with these... Mandalorians? And this ex-agent...what's her story? Crix hated jumping into situations without the full story, but this job offer sounded more than interesting. To go work with a warrior culture, possibly learning something new about fighting, gather information about what they were doing, and be paid a million credits for 6 months was a hard tempation to resist, especially for Crix who understood the power of money.

[Crixus]

Crix's eyes sparkled under his mask at the final words. Every bounty hunter lived for those words. That or the payment from afterwards. But with this payment up front, alongside with what he just earned would let him more than just readjust the jetpack he acquired from the last bounty, and to attach the latest weapon. Such treasure could possibly purchase a some new weapons, or even a small ship to get him across the galaxy. No longer relying on bartering for rides with other people.

 

Crix began to reach for the credit chip and nodded. Crix's imagination kept running with the ideas of what to do with the money. He had to shake himself to focus on the situation though. He looked at the receptionist, whom he liked a bit more now, if only cause she held his payment in front of him.

 

If her title is true, then she sounds like my kind of person, and a possible entry with her people. For a million credits, I'll tell you whatever you want about them.

[Crixus]

The Gank nodded as he quickly signed the contract, eager to get paid in advanced and to start his new job right away. With luck, he could modify the jetpack he had acquired on Tatooine, complete with a paint change to disguise it from any other Mandalorians, and be on his way to the Coruscant. He could see that the holonet projected on several screens nearby were focused on that once-beautiful now dying planet. Perhaps if he hurried he could make a good impression with them. With a quick signature and the paper slid back, Crix found himself employed by the Black Sun once more.

 

Later

 

Crix exited the Palace a new bounty hunter. While it was obvious he was still getting used to the new weight on his back, he didn't seem to mind. He hated the fact that it took him longer then expected to rewire it so that way his voice commands from his helmet could activate the piece of equipment. Whatever that 'Canderous' had on it before was good. But not too hard for him.

 

In his right hand Crix still carried the new weapon. He didn't dare try to modify it to replace one of his claws yet. He wanted an expert to do that. It was too precious. Too...occult to be tampered with.

 

Crix looked at the weapon, spinning it over and over, examining every detail. It seemed so simple: this weapon wasn't too complicated, but there was definitely something to it that only an expert could identify. He did examine it closely and was surprised to find two crystal like objects inside: blue and purple. In an attempt to discover their purpose, he activated the blade and found out that a purple blade could be emitted. A truly mysterious weapon. But not as mysterious as the voice that came with it. It had been brief, but instantly recognizable. A mere laugh from a being of power and anger. Then it was gone.

 

But the bounty hunter didn't fear the voice. He reasoned to himself that the effects of the madness on Tatooine were still clutching him and would soon go away when Crix focused on the new task at hand: Infiltrate a warrior people, observe their movements, train with them, inform Black Sun. Crix felt excited as he boarded the "Explorer" Scout Ship, now under his own name. Worn with age and blaster marks from missions passed, Crix was attracted to it for several reasons. Small enough not to be noticed by big ships, fast enough to get to places, and a history of success. He chuckled at the name painted on the side. Truly, a fitting name for one such as he:

 

Reckless Revenge

 

At the controls, he slowly started the machine up, and was soon on his way.

 

(To Coruscant)