Bad Luck

[Anders]

[SIZE=11pt][13:00 GST][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Draboon system, Mandalore sector[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The gyrating azure steaks of hyperspace waned in seconds as the bulky light freighter exited hyperspace, wheeling toward the emerald greenscape of the planet.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Blinking his eyes open, he yawned and stretched his arms. He modified the starship’s speed, slowing the sublight drive. Behind him, the tight compartment was loaded with dozens of crates containing illegal narcotics he’d stolen at a cargo bay back on Nar Shaddaa. An anonymous Republic buyer opted to exchange on the remote Mandalorian planet, given how dangerous it is to transport contraband in the meticulously monitored hyperlanes of Republic space. The man offered a lavish reward of 10,000 credits for its acquisition, an offer Anders couldn’t resist denying. The young bounty hunter had a massive debt hanging over his head that he desperately needed to pay back to a Hutt crime boss. The credits earned in this operation would cover three quarters of it, but the prying gangster wanted his money in full, and he’d better get that done sooner or later or else he’ll have his own bounty to be worried about. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The abrupt blare of the alarms snapped him out of his thoughts. Three starfighters appeared on his scope, closing the perimeter in attack formation. Damn, damn, damn…. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]The freighter had decent shielding but had meager weaponry, sporting only two slow turbolasers. He diverted power to the thrusters and activated the auto-fire on the defenses. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The ship rocked violently as the security lights flickered on and off. Ceaseless volleys of laser fire battered the eroding deflector shield. He scrambled an emergency defense system, a modification he added that ejected several electromagnetic disruption probes. The probes ejected and erupted behind them, interfering with the starfighters’ scanners and targeting systems. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Though the damage had been done. With the rear shields disabled, the primary thruster exploded in flames. The gravity well grappled his ship and forced it into the surface. Losing control of the yoke, he could no longer steer the burning freighter as it descended, speeds exceeding several hundred meters per second.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]One final rear explosion rendered the freighter inoperable as it crashed into the surface and skidded forcibly over the rocky ground. His head slammed on the control panel. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]And then it went black.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt][member="Kaine Australis"][/SIZE]

 

[Anders]

Anders blinked slowly, exiting the abyss his mind was abruptly sent to. For a moment he thought he was trapped in a bad dream, but the searing heat burning the back of his neck confirmed the reality.

His head throbbed in greater agony than he’d ever experienced. Thick maroon blood rolled down his temple as he heaved himself up from the control panel, leaning back into his seat. All his senses began to return simultaneously as he groaned at the abhorrent pain emanating from his left arm. The appendage twisted unnaturally during the crash—and it showed, his forearm was bent and distorted in an almost nauseating display with the bone clearly pressed against his skin. He was surprised he didn’t die. He wished he did.

“Anyone there?”

Anders winced, the inquisitive voice bounced off the walls as a wave of adrenaline funneled through his body. Immediately he thought of the pirates that shot down his ship. Though it seemed unusual how they could have reached the surface so quickly especially after disabling their starships’ technical systems. But it didn’t matter. Hell it could be anyone out there, trying to salvage what was left of the freighter. And they likely wouldn’t be very hospitable to Anders.

The bounty hunter swiveled in his chair, reaching out with his good arm with gritted teeth and grabbed a glinting pistol. Better be safe than sorry, after all. Foolishly, he ignored the pulsating ache that seemed to be expanding over his whole body, and stood from the chair on wobbly pillars. He padded slowly, leaning against the corridor as he walked down, the dwindling air replaced by inky smoke smoldering his lungs.

He parted his lips to speak, though what came out was a violent coughing bout. The pain in his head reached its zenith, his legs gave out and he collapsed onto the fractured durasteel.

 

[Anders]

[member="Kaine Australis"] ^

 

[Anders]

[SIZE=11pt]Clinging to life, Anders felt a dense, armored body lift him from the wreckage and haul him outside. His stubbornness implored him to struggle for freedom as he was manhandled by some unknown brigand. But that was impossible, as he barely mustered the energy to keep his eyes open.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]He was propped up against a worn tree. Vision blurred, he noticed the faint outlines of his arm retrieving some kind of object—a needle, perhaps, and for a brief moment he concluded that the man was putting him out of his misery. Anders wasn’t entirely opposed to that. Though after its quick application, whatever it was seemed to be ebbing his pain. Lethargy must have been a side affect, as he slipped into a much needed rest.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Anders drifted back into reality, the throbbing headache shoving the rest of him out of sleep. He groaned, feeling over his head to check if any blood was dripping, scattering debris particles. Apparently not, though the excruciating pain felt as though there should. He desperately wanted to know what time it was. The sun was up, at least, and he couldn’t remember if it was in the sky before he was asleep. Speaking of which... he didn’t seem to exactly remember how he got here. His last memory was in his freighter fending off several marauding starfighters and then... the smoke, the dry smell of the vapor still pungent in the air gave enough indication of what happened.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Anders looked up—a human male standing before him, though certainly not a typical one. Clad in dense partitioned armor plates from the neck down to the worn combat boots, cradling a signature T-Visor. It’s a bloody Mandalorian, he thought. He expected to be frightened, given their brutal reputation, but the man’s face gave no attestation of aggression. Suddenly he was a boy again, remembering seeing a squad of daunting Mando armor prowling the neighborhood where he would sleep under a piles of rubbish. It was a Mando who saved his life once, in that same destitute district. He promised himself as a boy he’d make up for it.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Though he really didn’t expect to encounter anyone on such a desolate planet, especially when it offered little of any monetary or agricultural value. It was precisely why the Republic buyer chose such a far-flung Rim world, divorced from the affairs of perpetual galactic squabbles. Huh, guess all those narcotics went to hell along with the ship. And now he still has a swinging debt looming over his head. And to think, he went through all that trouble on Nar Shaddaa to steal it... [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Not dead... yet,” he growled, still wiping detritus off his face. “who are you, anyway?” [/SIZE]

[member="Kaine Australis"]

 

[Anders]

Anders grabbed a hold of the man's plated hand, the material incredibly dense.

He turned around to see his freighter incinerating as it emanated thick raven smoke into the air. It was cheap, any way, with very limited hyperdrive and navigational systems, but how else was he gonna get around the galaxy now? Professional spacers often demanded a pretty high price, while smugglers or pirates would con you and drop you off on some wild unknown wasteland.

"Nice... to meet you," he said, still slightly disoriented. "I'm Anders- O'Tor... of Nar Shaddaa."

[member="Kaine Australis"]

 

[Anders]

Home.

He pondered on the Mandalorian's question. Not out of appreciation for his generosity but how ridiculous it sounded. Home? On Nar Shaddaa? Anders certainly never considered it "home," with all the connotations that came along with that word. Sleeping under festering trash heaps or abandoned warehouses frequented by the moon's most unscrupulous vagrants wasn't exactly his idea of home. That's pretty much why he never referred to it as such. "A place to sleep for the night," was more like it, which routinely fluctuated.

Besides, no way was Anders returning to that overpopulated cesspool. Not with the kind of bounty sitting on his head now. Every bounty hunter in that sector would be after him.

He regarded the Mandalorian closely. Up from the battered boots and resilient armor. Beskar, Mandalorian iron. Some of the strongest in the galaxy. At least he thought that was the correct word. His Mando'a was woefully lacking, learning scant words from various droids he programmed. He never seemed to find a bulk data unit for the language.

A seed of envy grew inside him as he evaluated the man. Anders always admired the Mandalorian people - their code, ethics, sense of duty and family. Values completely foreign to Anders. His career in smuggling and bounty hunting amassed credits, yes, but no real sense of purpose. And that's precisely what the young man had been searching for his whole life - but currently to no avail.

You know maybe this "Kaine of Mandalore" could teach me something. He did save my life, after all.

"I hate to infringe..." he began, clamming up on the inside. "But I don't think I can return to Nar Shaddaa at this moment, and I think I need some serious medical evaluation. You think you can help me out?"

[member="Kaine Australis"]

 

[Anders]

“I can make it,” he said, cradling his left arm as he limped across the debris and shrapnel-strewn ground. He struggled into the copilot seat of the compact starfighter, prudent in his endeavor to protect his fractured arm.

A moderately sized transport of ambiguous usage remained idle above the planet’s surface. It was an impressive ship, Anders remarked - looked expensive, too.

The starfighter entered the indentation of the hangar bay, nestling in the corner where a team of lined specialists seemed prepared for routine inspections. In a dizzying array of time, he found himself drifting in and out of consciousness as he floated in a Bacta tank.

[member="Kaine Australis"]