Mandalorian
An Unforseen Contract
Location: New Bornalex, Outer Rim Belamuth Sector
The contract came through encrypted, routed through three dead channels before it ever reached Torvyn Kade. That alone told him enough.
Johanna Vespyr. Imperial Remnant. In hiding. New Bornalex.
No rank listed. No last known command. Just a name, a planet, and a payout high enough to mean she mattered to someone.
Torvyn didn’t care why.
Only that she was worth finding. The descent into New Bornalex’s atmosphere was rough—thick particulate storms scraping against the hull of his ship as if the planet itself was trying to push him back out. He didn’t adjust course. He never did.
The ship broke through the storm layer and dropped into a sky stained orange and gray, visibility low, sensor interference high. Not ideal.
But workable.
Torvyn guided the ship down into the shadow of a fractured ridge line just outside a decaying settlement cluster. No landing beacons. No traffic signals. Just broken structures and silence.
Perfect place to disappear.
Engines cut.
Silence followed.
Boots hit sand with a dull crunch as he stepped out into the wind.
The environment hit immediately—dry, abrasive, carrying the faint metallic scent of old industry and older war. His visor adjusted automatically, filtering out the worst of the particulate haze as his HUD flickered to life.
Thermal scan.
Minimal.
Movement.
Sparse.
Life signs scattered—low density. Civilians, most likely. Or what passed for them out here.
Torvyn crouched briefly, pressing two fingers into the sand. Still warm. Tracks half-buried by shifting wind patterns.
Recent.
Not many—but enough.
Someone had been moving through here within the last few hours. He rose without a word and started forward.
The settlement ahead was a skeleton—collapsed roofs, exposed framework, durasteel eaten away by time and neglect. The kind of place that offered just enough cover to hide in… and just enough structure to trap someone who didn’t know it.
Torvyn moved along the outer edge first.
Always the perimeter.
Always the exits.
His HUD mapped as he went, marking choke points, vantage angles, possible ambush routes. Old habits. Necessary ones.
A flicker of heat caught his attention—second level, partial structure, gone almost as soon as it appeared. Torvyn stopped and turned slightly.
He ran the scan again.
Nothing.
He didn’t move for a full three seconds.
Then—A shift above moved fast.
The blaster was already in his hand before the figure landed.
Armor. Mandalorian.
Not his.
Not Clan Kade.
Not anyone he recognized.
Which meant one thing.
Torvyn didn’t hesitate.
The weapon came up, steady, centered on her chestplate as he took a measured step forward.
“Don’t.”
The word cut clean through the wind.
His stance adjusted—weight balanced, angle tight, ready for movement in any direction.
“Not another step.”
His visor locked onto her, scanning for weapons, heat signatures, micro-movements.
Nothing sloppy.
Nothing uncertain.
Professional.
That made it worse.
“Bounty’s claimed.”
A pause. Dust swirling between them.
Torvyn advanced one slow step, tightening the distance just enough to assert control—never enough to lose it.
“You’re either lost… or you’re competition.”
His finger rested against the trigger, pressure measured.
"Who are you?
Mia Monroe
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