Baited

[Koda Fett]

BARBATOS​

​

It was routine. The Bounty Hunter had accepted a job from a mysterious employer, they had no name, they had no way to contact them, they were only ever going to be watching, or so they had claimed. Normally, a deal such as this sounded rotten to the core, but with the credits they were offering? Fett couldn't resist, and so he rolled the dice. Koda was meticulous by nature, and a lesser Hunter was bound to find themselves running cold weeks ago. Fett, however, had come to Barbatos. The soon to be final resting place of that Runaway Droid with more secrets one can poke a stick at. Or, well, so he thought...

The Mandalorian's booted feet shuffled slowly across the expensive material that was the flooring beneath his feet. One after another, the only sound that appeared to exist was the rain outside, muffled right down, and that of his boots colliding with the ground. There was nothing in sight, not on his scanners, not in his peripherals. This place was as dead as Jango's old bones. Yet, nevertheless, Fett proceeded onward. His Carbine raised, caution flowing through him. If what he had discovered was true, the Droid was sure to put up a fight. And on unfamiliar territory? It was never a good idea to be too headstrong.

Although, this place truly was empty. A singular datapad resided on the floor, and Fett crouched down to grasp at it with his left hand. It's condition was oddly pristine, and the code presented upon the screen reflected upon his visor. Fett couldn't make any sense of it.

Had the trail run cold, or had it never existed?

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

On the screen, random letters of aurebesh appeared, then disappeared; a scattered wild assortment of unknown letters with no feasible answer. Their harsh azure light contrasted the dimness of the interior they were in, its darkness a faint reminder the danger that postured itself around him. The air was cold, with nothing but the rumble of the storm offering any sense of environment.

The room had a few stores closed, long after the hours of a working day had ceased. Metal cages lined with ray shields kept the products safe within, though they’d do little to stop the more well armed members of the underworld. Despite this, no security wandered the halls, no outright security systems covered the bazaar, only the individual implements to protect the individual businesses.

A small beep uttered from the datapad as Koda held it, the random assortment of letters slowly forming a single coherent sentence;

G̶̘̘͓̪̝̤ͦ͆͆̄o̩̲͛͛̒͘ ̜̰̰̈́ͣ͟d̘͚̱͈̦̉̈́e̱̜̠̗̓̏̓ͬ́͗̓͟ȅ̘̦͉̦͂̒ͬ͛p̲͙̳̻̈́̑̑̄ͣͥ͝e̻̰͎̟̺̾ͦ̀r̭̯̉͂ͧ͜​

Cryptic and foreboding, the only thing that followed was somewhere deeper the click and opening of a service door outside his vision. The initial screech of metal on metal of its hinges, though no closing sound to signal someone passing through. Wherever it was, Koda would have no choice but to follow.

Just off the beaten path, the service hallways for the bazaar ran only slightly into the building before the door that was opened became obvious. Near its base, a small wedge was shoved to keep it open, as the light inside buzzed and flashed. Inside, it quickly moved down into a long series of stairs that seemed to go dozens of meters into the planet; with nothing to offer Koda but the darkness that surrounded it.

Nothing would show up on his scanners, nothing would be visible.

Only after the hallways began to turn into nothing but pipes, did the distant cry of music begin to draw the bounty hunter even deeper into the depths. His sensors would pick up a single lifeform, far deeper in the area. Step by step, the noise was increase before going through a door that opened into a wide and well lit room with nothing but a few pillars, a distant door, and a man sitting at a piano.

He wore sunglasses, despite being within the darkness. He didn’t turn towards the man as he came within, simply smiling and speaking;

“Glad to hear you finally made it.”

[member="Koda Fett"]

 

[Koda Fett]

The Bounty Hunter's helmeted head snapped in the direction of the metallic door as it scraped against itself, revealing a dark and foreboding passage way that seemingly led nowhere but down. Fett had shifted his Carbine in it's direction, ready to put a searing hole in the chest of whatever was to emerge, and it was (with any luck) that droid he sought. Yet, the instant his helmet's gadgets got to work on scanning the immediate area he found that there was nothing there but empty space.

Curious. This certainly had all the makings of a trap, no? Perhaps Fett's self-confidence is what was to drive him through the current moment, descend that flight of stairs and slaughter some metallic heap and turn it into nothing more than scrap. All, of course, after getting paid that is. A singular glance fired back at the datapad only further confirmed his suspicions with it's message. That droid was certainly down there, and it was waiting.

Spring the trap.

Fett's gaze was unrelenting on the area ahead of him. The typically dark staircase illuminated due to the helmet's capabilities, providing no challenge in traversing them. His steps were slow, they were cautious, his finger hovered over the Carbine's trigger. The process was far too long, but his mind never wandered.

​In time, however, he emerged. A man rest at an instrument, appearing to know full well who he was - which came as no surprise - and that he was going to be here. A trap, possibly. Fett's scanners shot out once more, but there was nothing here but that man. Curious indeed.

"The Droid." Koda spoke aloud, allowing his Carbine to fall at a half-mast. Whoever this man was, he surely knew damn well where it was hiding.

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Any notes the man had played left him as lifted himself from the bench, using his hand to guide him around the piano towards the side Koda was. He gazed into the empty air, an obvious cue the man was blind, and likely no threat to the bounty hunter; though he likely saw fakes before. The man gave off no direct signs of a facade, but the danger was always there.

He smiled, his head moving in small gyrations;

“Ah, boy, there isn’t any droid.”, he said with some knowing joy.

“Ya’ see, I’m with a… group, they been lookin’ to hire you.”

He offered a quick laugh before limping a little bit closer to Koda, though he never made any attempt to grab ahold of him. When the distance between them was somewhat close, though farther than traditional conversational distance, the man reached down and set a small holoprojector on the floor. As he stood, he snapped and pointed towards where it was with a soft;

“There ya go.”, before standing and walking back in the direction of the piano; his hands guiding him the entire time.

In the next moment, the holoprojector snapped to life as a static filled the room and faded as the image moderated. In its blueish hint, a cloaked figure with a startling mask looked him over; easily over seven foot from where the foot of his robes began. He offered a deep growl before looking into Koda’s eyes, at least through the visor.

His voice was thick with manipulation, synthetic tones distorting it into something unrecognizable.

“Koda Fett… We’ve heard plenty about you.”

[member="Koda Fett"]

 

[Koda Fett]

Things only ever seemed to become stranger, and stranger with each passing moment. An air of tension clearly apparent, even to a man who didn't possess the ability to wield the mystical and dangerous. It was a Blaster that he held, and he held it since day one. A Clone had his place, and despite all the training, indoctrination, and experience, he wasn't one for that life. Maybe a coward in the eyes of some, but the reason those who knew his name feared it, and it was certainly because he was no coward. Perhaps braver than most, a trait that allowed him to desert the damned Republic all those years ago in their moment of triumph and transition. A few moments of regret slipped his mind here and there, somehow wishing he stayed to watch the Jedi burn. Oh how he loathed them.

No. That life didn't matter now, and the only thing that had was the here and now; the life of Koda Fett, however brief that man truly had existed.

His armoured, muscular form hadn't appeared to budge so much as an inch. Remaining firm and still, akin to a statue if not the panning of the helmeted head on his shoulders. The only real sound that escaped the Mandalorian was that of his attire rubbing against itself. Beyond that, not a word, not a sound. It was from behind the T-Visor that he watched, he waited, he heeded the words. A disgruntled scowl expressed across his face, concealed by the infamous helmet of an even more infamous man. Admittedly some hesitant confusion, but adapted to the situation with relative ease. This 'blind' man wandered towards him, and resembled similarities with a loaded gun: ready to fire at an instant.

That hologram fell before him, rising up to a potentially digitally manipulated size. Either way, Fett didn't trust it to be true. There were a great many stories regarding the infamous Bounty Hunter who's name carried historical weight to the industry, as well as Mandalorians. Not all were true, some exaggerated of course, but he was more than aware. "Make your case." Fett had replied dryly. They certainly had his attention, going through all that effort to lure him here.

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

“I represent a guild known simply as ‘The GenoHaradan’.”, the voice offered.

“We are an enigmatic establishment, something you aren’t likely interested in…”

The voice trailed off as the masked figure looked towards the man now leaning against the piano. The man rotated his head every few moments, as if adjusting to hear some distant noise, but nothing seemed exceptionally off about it. After a moment, the massive figure looked back to Koda;

“We wish to hire you, as a dedicated agent. You’ll be paid extremely handsomely for a variety of jobs. You’ll be contacted through a broker or message we encrypt. The only stipulation is secrecy.”

Pausing once more, the man simply watched Koda. This went on for a few moments before he looked to him once more;

“Does this sound satisfactory?”

[member="Koda Fett"]

 

[Koda Fett]

The Mandalorian had found himself under the employ of several organisations that shrouded themselves in secrecy, operating behind the scenes, and ensuring all of their dealings attracted absolutely no attention. That, in turn, forced the Bounty Hunter to act with discretion. Fortunately, Fett was figure that was capable of being both the scalpel, and the hammer. There was no distinct preference in actuality. It all varied on the circumstances of the event itself. His assumption, however led him to believe the scalpel was the method favoured by the GenoHaradan.

"It does." Fett stated, for it certainly did. "How much for the standard job?" He further asked, his head almost cocking to the right, ever so slightly. It was all well and good to make approximations, but Koda preferred hard numbers over generalisations.

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

“Standard pay of 50,000 Credits a job, base. This goes up depending on the job, along with cuts of the profit.”

The voice began to rattle off the various pay he might receive, the distortion becoming more evident as his voice deepened and raised with no inclination as to why.

“Security pay of 5,000 Credits a week. Ensuring secrecy. Additional pay for any information you have, varying depending on its importance to the organization. This includes hits, contacts, artifacts, and rival organizations we may not know of.”

Glancing back to the blind man, the voice finally brought his full attention back to Koda with a slight whir of his holographic generation. He did not move, forming a slightly imposing statue, but after a moment he spoke once more;

“Does this sound satisfactory?”

[member="Koda Fett"]

 

[Koda Fett]

Fett, as per usual, hadn't budged. His still form stood before the hologram that shined a bright blue, digitally flickering and emitting a soft hum from the base of the object that displayed it. In his grip was the Carbine that he cradled as if it were his child. He was hardly a family man, mind you. It tended to happen when one was raised for the soul purpose of fighting a war. Beneath that helmet existed nothing more than contemplation, before words began to take shape in a truth.

​"No." He mentioned with a certain firmness to his tone. "I'm worth more than that." An absolute truth, at least by what the Emperor of the Sith decides to pay him. That and the Hutts, too. He didn't give a number, willing to see how far this figure was willing to climb.

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

“And what, pretell, would one Koda Fett be worth?”, The man responded.

If bargaining was Koda’s intention, then he’d name the price, Tiamat knew the dangers of naming your price first; and he put himself at the disadvantage, it was only right that the man before him offers a counter offer.

For the group, monetary funds weren’t as much of an issue as they were stressing internally. Some of its members were worth undisclosed billions, though which were and weren’t wasn’t know. The secrecy of the GenoHaradan insured that much. He only hoped that it was a reasonable amount outside of himself.


[member="Koda Fett"]

 

[Koda Fett]

It was almost as if he had a point to prove in this moment, as he relinquished his left hand's grip upon the Blaster Carbine that rest within his hands. It pointed outwards, jabbing with emphasis at the key points of each sentence, or phrase. "Double the standard. Triple the security. And I get first rights to any job on offer." His tone firm, filled to the brim with conviction. Somewhat electronic through the microphone that allowed him to be heard. He was an expensive man, a wanted man, an efficient man. These were no undeserved claims, but if they truly were entirely wealthy then this is, of course, not an issue. After all, they did seek him out, now didn't they?

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The mysterious figure stood quietly, deep breaths leaving him every few moments before his voice struck out once more;

“Consider it done.”

With that, the man glanced once more to the blind man, then back to Koda, his voice breaking the temporary silence;

“Your first job is to kill this man. He’s served his usefullness.”

At that, the man glanced in their direction, a frown forming on his face as his hands moved to protect himself, though the attempt was futile considering his handicap. His voice was shaky, quickly taking on a tone of fear;

“Well now hold up a second, let's think about this…”

[member="Koda Fett"]

 

[Koda Fett]

Did Tiamet have his doubts? Did that mysterious figure believe, even for a second, that Fett was going to question it. Prove that he wasn't as merciless as the tales involved? It seemed that way, and so it is what the Bounty Hunter had assumed was the case. If not for the thick skin of the Mandalorian, he may of been offended by such a thing. However, that simply wasn't the case.

The thought of as to whether or not he was being paid for it crossed his mind, maybe even twice. It hardly mattered, though. If he didn't kill this man it was likely an offer was never going to be thrown his way. The unsigned contract cast aside, and forgotten about eternally. Who else could take his place? There weren't a great many legitimate, or capable of bounty hunters that roamed the galaxy, or so he had seen. As far as the Mandalorian was aware, it was only himself, Ghorua, and Valentine that dared fly close to the sun. Nobody has had their 'wings' singed off just yet.

It came with no question, or verbal response. It was a split second, despite the questioning he asked himself within his own mind. The right hand, the one that held the Carbine, snapped upwards to be held as if it were a sidearm. The trigger was pulled at the conclusion of his words, potentially cutting anything else short as the body slumped to the ground with a searing hole in it's chest. The same weapon was lowered by his side, evaporating a waft of steam and cradled within his arms once more.

The T-Visor looked upwards toward Tiamet.

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The man clung on for a moment as air left his mouth in pained gasps, a hand clutching out for it as if he was to extend his life by holding his last breath. He slumped and fell, slamming his head against the piano before he went quiet, Tiamet offering nothing but a soft glance to him before looking back to the bounty hunter before him. His voice came slow, drawn out, while the distortion persisted.

“You’ll be rewarded for killing him.”, he said idly.

“He had intentions to betray the order. Contacts within the city already reported his moves weeks prior. We found a final use in him by ensuring you were serious.”

With that, the hologram distorted slightly more before a door near the piano had its electronic lock undo.

“Within the next room you’ll find an advance on pay for killing the traitor, along with an encryption exclusive to you. A courier will bring you missions, and your half of the encryption will unlock it.”

“One last thing, Koda Fett-”, he said, “-We have eyes and ears everywhere. Mind our deal.”

With that, the hologram disappeared and the projector seemed to buzz as it finally had its last. With the door now open, Koda was free to leave the area, or stay. It was entirely up to him, while in the coming weeks he would be sought out for a different job. A bank heist, somewhere across the galaxy. Time would tell if he was worth the price.


[member="Koda Fett"]

 

[Koda Fett]

Interesting.

Ghorua the Shark had painted Fett as an always serious Hunter, one that didn't partake in light conversation, and only ever focused at the job at hand. The Herglic was right, of course, but the Bounty Hunter had his reasons. Many Hunters followed 'The Bounty Hunter's Creed', in which it stated the unwritten rules of successfully thriving in the underworld that these men and women of a different breed resided. However, Koda Fett wasn't among those that did. He had his own code to follow, and despite the Guild's wishes, Fett was prone to targeting other Hunters that interfered with his work. Sometimes it was the other way around, but it hardly mattered. Justified or not, it was still breaking the code. You'd be hard pressed to find a more individualistic, solitary, and efficient Bounty Hunter anywhere in the entirety of the Galaxy. Even as a Clone, Koda Fett was unique.

His Visor stared through the hologram, seeing beyond the flickering distortion that reflected that pale, blue light upon his armour. It was, of course, the sound of a lock unhinging. Perhaps he weary as to what was on the other side, but he hadn't been failed yet. Intrigued? Yes. Concerned? A hint of uncertainty lingered throughout him. As it should be, though. The entirety of this situation was eery to say the least.

Fett's gaze persisted upon the door that had been unlocked, even whilst Tiamet gave his closing points. The hologram dissipated, and Koda took a moment to ponder as to what he believed was on the other side. A trial? Another mysterious figure? There wasn't a way to understand this, and so Fett did the only thing he could do: play along. His footsteps made an echo with each set forwards, eventually coming to the door in which he opened, but not before emitting a scanning pulse that was bound to reveal something; covering everything with an orange, digitised hue.

[member="The Slave"]