Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Ballin' In the Park

@[member="Kitt Solo"]

BAKURA SYSTEM, BAKURA
STATUARY PARK, SALIS D'AAR

11:28 PM LOCAL TIME


Bounty hunting was tough work. It was tough work in that if often called for irregular tactics against abnormal targets. For instance, Gnarrik was an insomniac Barabel living on Bakura and wanted for embezzlement in thirteen different systems. His bounty was just North of five-thousand credits. Living in the crowded city of Salis D'aar, it was next to impossible for him to be nabbed at any other time of day. Too many people to make a smooth getaway. Hannibal had tried busting into his apartment complex, but it was far too upscale and well-guarded. Probably paid for with embezzled funds. This bounty was starting to look fairly difficult. Until, however, Hannibal found out that Gnarrik was an insomniac who often alleviated his affliction by taking long, meandering strolls in Statuary Park. Often times he did so in the late hours of the night or the small hours of the morning. Quite clearly the best opportunity to snag the crook.

With this in mind, it was easy to rationalize the fact that Hannibal was hiding silently in a rather large Namana tree. The Fondorian leisurely awaited the arrival of his Barabel quarry, attempting to stave off his drowsiness. The thick foliage of the tree was enough to keep him fairly well hidden. At least, as far as he was concerned. What Hannibal wasn't aware of was the fact that his ankle was sticking out and, from a certain angle, he was clearly visible in the tree. Thankfully there weren't going to be many other people running about the park at this time of night, unless they also happened to be insomniac Barabel. Or an individual looking for an insomniac Barabel. Either way, Hannibal kept his eyes glued to the path that passed under his tree. Gnarrik would be coming around soon, he was sure of it.
 

Kitt Solo

Alen Na'Varro's Ex
@[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

[SIZE=10pt]Nose pressed against the Bounty Hunter’s 101 Guide for Dummies as she tried to find a section about seeing another hunter climb a tree most likely in pursuit of the same prey. Hm. Nothing. Maybe it was in the index?[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Page turned silently in the bush directly beneath the tree. Shoulders slumped when she found nothing. Meh, just gotta wing it. Craning her neck, she saw the guy’s ankle sticking out. He was gonna get them both killed.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]“Hey,” distinctly feminine voice carried up from the bush as if bushes beneath a Namana tree could suddenly talk. “Oy, mister, might wanna hitch that ankle of yours in unless you wanna become the next chew-toy of a Barabel.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Said Barabel was only a few meters up the path and seemed to be hankering for a drink or a fight...or both.[/SIZE]
 
@[member="Kitt Solo"]

Hannibal's protruding ankle abruptly shot out from sight, immediately followed by the sound of a grown man madly scrambling to reassert his position in a tree with dense foliage. A shrub had began speaking to him in a distinctly feminine voice, telling him his ankle was sticking out. Had he fallen asleep? No, it startled him well enough. He would have woken up if that was the case. Regardless, Hannibal wasn't about to have his bounty-hunting disrupted by a critical piece of flora.

"What?" Hannibal hissed, his voice an agitated whisper. "Who the hell are you?"
 

Kitt Solo

Alen Na'Varro's Ex
@[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

She had to bite back a snort. Clearly the guy was caught off guard, but who wouldn't by be a Misses Shrub? "Shhh," voice whispered back, clearly trying not to laugh. "Name's Kitt Solo - Corellian Mercenary slash Bounty Hunter slash fortune hunter slash best mechanic you've ever seen this side o' the Kessle Run. I'm not a bush. Honestly. I think we're scoping out the same..."

Unfortunately, the Barabel was pretty much on the pair, head perked to the side and picked up on the whispering. "Who is there?" It growled while Kitt did a physical face-palm. Rustling out of the bushes, leaves and sticks clung to her chestnut-hair. "Oh hey, sorry, I dropped my err....watch here when I went running earlier and was just...um...trying to find it."

The Bounty Hunter's 101 Guide for Dummies fell out of her pocket and onto the pavement between them. It took the Barabel only a moment to glance down.

Look at dem teeth.
 
@[member="Kitt Solo"]

No sooner did the Barabel glance down to investigate Kitt's book did Hannibal exit the tree with the grace and elegance only a Fondorian as slick as he could pull off. He was already brandishing a fancy, high-tech looking pistol when he hit the path, and had managed to aim it at the Gnarrik just as the lizard turned around. Gnarrik snarled visciously as he realized what was going on, but didn't have time to do much else before a stun bolt smacked him square in the face. The Barabel seized up from the electric shock of the blast, twitching violently before falling over on his side, unconscious.

That was one way to help insomnia.

"Anyone ever tell ya you got too many slashes in your job title?" Hannibal took a moment to size up the young woman who had stepped out of the shrub. "Or that ya oughta be in school 'n not tryin'a pick fights with giant lizards?"
 

Kitt Solo

Alen Na'Varro's Ex
@[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

Stars, that Fondorian (if she knew that he was) moved as smooth as melting Southern Corellian butter. "I'm old enough," she huffed, a loan twig with a few leaves disentangling itself from her hair. She began to pick the other foliage out from her tangled, chestnut strands. "And I could've handled this guy just fine, thank you very much," a thumb hooked over her shoulder at the sleeping reptilian.

Kneeling down, she snatched up her guide and stuffed it back into her pack, proceeding to take out a pair of rather large, stun cuffs. Walking behind the Barabel, the young-mercenary wannabe began putting the cuffs around his unconscious wrists. "Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude not to introduce yourself, especially when you're caught hiding like a creeper in a park?"
 
@[member="Kitt Solo"]

Hannibal listened to Kitt's reply for a few moments, contemplating his own. He was about to say something when she suddenly started affixing stun cuffs to the unconscious Barabel. No bueno. He folded his arms and grimaced. He was quite sure the small woman in front of him wouldn't be able to lift Gnarrik all the way back to the spaceport. That didn't take away from the principle of the matter, however. This was his bounty now. Even if she had been here first or whatever. Hannibal only counted such things when they worked in his favor.

"Lissen' 'ere, ya little... Fine, fine. I'll introduce myself." Hannibal said with a distinct trace of irritation.

"You can calls me Steve "GetYaDamnDirtyHandsOffaMyBountyBeforeIPopYaOneInTheJaw" Smith."
 

Kitt Solo

Alen Na'Varro's Ex
@[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

Popping her head up, she looked at him as if to ask - do I look like I was born yesterday? "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Steve-o. Look at the size of this guy," toe nudged the unconscious Barabel forward. "There's no way even you could drag him to the closest speeder-taxi stop all by your lonesome." Walking cautiously to her competition, she held her hands up slowly. "I'd even be willing to split the bounty with you...say seventy-thirty? Doing this together would be a heck o' a lot easier than doing it separately, Mister."

Myrtle-ellipses framed by wildly-tousled strands of chestnut hair scoured his face for a sign of something hopeful.
 
@[member="Kitt Solo"]

Hannibal looked down at the Barabel he had just knocked out cold. The kid was definitely on to something here. In the fact that there was no way Hannibal was dragging this hunk of lizard meat all the way to the nearest park bench, much less a speeder-taxi stop, on his own. Lucky she'd been around, then. Hannibal had not genuinely given any thought to how he was going to move Gnarrik. An extra pair of hands, even if they were likely dainty, tiny little girl hands would be useful in that regard. He holstered his stun pistol, watching the huntress as she made her plea.

Seventy-thirty? Someone had a nice pair of durasteel balls. Oh, but she was new to this. Better cut her some slack. Some other bounty hunters probably just would've eaten her or something. Particularly the Trandoshan ones.

"What's ya name, kid?" Hannibal inquired, folding his arms.
 

Kitt Solo

Alen Na'Varro's Ex
@[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

[SIZE=10pt]OhTHANKthestarsheHOSLTEREDhisweapon.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]She didn’t have to resort to plan triple zed. Hands lowered slowly. The guy didn’t seem that bad. Maybe she could learn a thing or two from him. He…[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Saywhatnow?[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Cocking her head to the side, she tried to wipe away the look on her face that imagined him to have Alzheimers. “Kitt Solo,” she spoke slowly, thinking it wise not to mention the fact she already told him when he was yanking his gangling limbs back into the cover of the tree. “What’s your real name, Steve-o?”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Walking back over to their prey, she heaved one of its massive limbs up so it dangled over her shoulders. “And c’mon, let’s get a move on.”[/SIZE]
 
@[member="Kitt Solo"]

Kitt Solo. That sounded familiar. Where had he heard it before? Probably no place important, otherwise he'd remember. Hannibal heard lots of names and committed precious few of them to memory. By the time Gnarrik was shipped off to those he had wronged, Hannibal would scarcely have any recollection of his name either. He kept spreadsheets on this stuff for a reason. Besides, hiding in that tree and being whispered at by a piece of shrubbery had been a trying time in Hannibal's life. Emotions had run too high for any remembering to take place.

Excuses, excuses. Had she just ordered him to get a move on? Hannibal restrained himself. No sense getting worked up on that one.

"Hannibal Oryen. Ya've probably 'eard of my innumerable exploits." Hannibal introduced himself, possibly making up that last part regarding the innumerable exploits. He stooped over to grappled with Gnarrik's limbs before proceeding to help Kitt heft the unconscious lizard down the path. This was probably going to take a while.
 

Kitt Solo

Alen Na'Varro's Ex
@[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

She snorted, shifting the scaled bicep along her shoulders as the trio meandered down the path. "Hannibal Oryen, oh yeah, I think you were on the cover o'Bounty Magazine last season," voice deadpanned. Truth was, she had heard a little, teensy-bit about the hunter. Word traveled fast in the hunter community, especially when a nerdy-young hopeful joined and made sure to do all her homework.

Didn't wanna end up dead on the first day o'the job. Her parents would never forgive her.

"So what made you wanna get into the business of dragging unconscious lizards halfway across the park in the middle o'the night?" Effectively, Kitt was asking why he chose the profession of bounty hunter. "I'm sure it wasn't to pick up ladies," peeking around the torso of Gnarrik she shot him a wry look.
 
@[member="Kitt Solo"]

"Hardy har." Hannibal snickered. And here he thought he was the only one with a subscription to o'Bounty. Not that he would ever admit it. Bounty hunters weren't supposed to read that kind of crap. He kept his gaze focused forward, not wanting to be caught unawares by some pedestrian out for a midnight stroll with their dog. Bakura was a big place. Gnarrik couldn't be the only narcoleptic with a love of parks.

It was a good question, why Hannibal had gone into the bounty hunting business. But he didn't answer it very frequently- at least not honestly. Hannibal had been born to a well-to-do family on Fondor. Moreso than other Fondorians, Hannibal was packing heat in terms of sheer intellect. He blasted through school like a bat out of hell, earned a doctorate in droid engineering from the ever-so-prestigious University of Oridin. But he wasn't a droid engineer. He was a bounty hunter, a hired gun with criminal tendencies- and he sure as hell didn't talk like someone who was legally supposed to be addressed as doctor. He was qualified up the wazoo, but he made a living kidnapping people.

"Man, I just wanted t' travel, dig?" Hannibal began, continuing to drag Gnarrik along. "But travelin' don't pay f' food an' dockin' fees. Nor is it very fulfillin'. Left home 'bout your age, nicked my first bounty... I 'unno, two years later? Great business. Good money."

It had been wanderlust, primarily, that led him to sign up into a private military company based out of Fondor. Then it had been wisdom which led him to realize mercenary folks did not appreciate the sophisticated, elegant dialects of intellectual Fondorians such as he. So he cooked up a more Galaxy-friendly dialect. Then the Omegans moved in, cracked down on that company due to its unscrupulous methods. Firefight erupts, people died, Hannibal's wanted on Fondor for having an illegal cybernetic implant... Blah, blah, blah. Definitely not a story worth recounting.

Besides, Hannibal had picked up plenty of ladies. People in the habit of placing bounties hardly discriminated on a gender basis.

"Why're you draggin' lizards, then? Try'n t' pay ya way through beauty school?"
 

Kitt Solo

Alen Na'Varro's Ex
@[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

"Bounty hunting, when you could'a been a comedian," she drawled slowly, voice like melted caramel with a southern Corellian twang. "And yeah, I dig," she said the word slowly, as if trying it out in her mouth. Dig, who said that? Someone who didn't give a two-flying mynocks what others thought of them and someone Kitt totally wanted to learn from. Like, totally.

“My dad’s the best mechanic on Corellia and I was the second best. My mom’s got some lofty-political position with power out the wazzooh. I was tired of being known just by them. I wanna make a name for myself, travel, get out on my own. Prove to them…and myself, I can do it, y’know?”

Y’know wasn’t as quirky as dig, but meh, baby steps.

“Okay, Balla,” her nickname for him, “what was the hardest lesson you had to learn as a hunter? And go. Wait, hold up a sec.” Slipping beneath the dead weight of the barabel, she jogged off to a rental hut. Effectively breaking in, she returned with two hover boards. She shrugged. “Kids ain’t gonna be renting these at night, figured we could use ‘em as a makeshift stretcher for our buddy, there.” She handed one to the seasoned-hunter.
 
@[member="Kitt Solo"]

"Pfft." Hannibal replied. "I am a comedian."

Oh, she came from a privileged background. Prodigal parents, large income. Yeah, Hannibal couldn't relate to that. Not in the slightest. In fact, anyone who assumed he could relate to such a thing would be thirty-percent more likely to get socked in the jaw than the average mook. Kitt just wanted to forge her own path. Far more respectable a goal than how Hannibal had just woken up one day and decided he wanted to see the galaxy. And shoot people. For money. Which had gradually evolved (or devolved, depending on who you asked) to abducting people via force. For money.

Yes, Hannibal had all the prestige and class that his family had expected of him. He ought to write and let them know that one of these days.

"Hardest lesson? Well, I- Wait wait no where are ya-" Hannibal protested her departure a few seconds too late, and so was left with the full burden of the Barabel's weight. Hey, this wasn't so bad. He struggled to keep the slumbering giant upright while his brazen accomplice ransacked a hoverboard rental station. That was of some concern, considering he still had business on this planet before bailing out. It'd be a real bummer if there were cameras about and Kitt got busted for thievery.

Ah well. There were worse people running around. Like Gnarrik. Except that Barabel wasn't running around any more. He was presently threatening to crush Hannibal under his incredible girth. Once Kitt returned with a pair of hoverboards and began waving one for Hannibal to take, the cyborg reluctantly let Gnarrik fall to the ground with a heavy thump. A few bruises were the least of Gnarrik's worries right now anyway.

"Gee, kid. Ya've clearly picked up on ya dad's ingenuity." Hannibal said, accepting the hoverboard from her.
 

Kitt Solo

Alen Na'Varro's Ex
@[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

"Thanks," she replied almost shyly. Wait-a-minute, Kitt Solo wasn't shy! "Sometimes it works and sometimes it blows up in your face....or half a space station on Nar Shadda," no more was said on that vague comment. Going for the lower half, she stooped over and hefted Gnarrik's massive legs onto the board, index finger flipping on the board's switch. With enough height, the hunter-pair could push the overgrown lizard like he was on a floating stretcher the rest of the way.

Hopefully the dude wouldn't wake up.

The chestnut-haired woman rolled out her shoulders and took a moment to stretch out her arms. She felt significantly lighter. She looked to Hannibal. "Need any help on your end, Balla? And yeah, I'm still waiting for your valuable lesson like a kid waiting for the next Corellian Life Day." Voice was deadpan but there was a hint of sincerity in her softer expression.
 
@[member="Kitt Solo"]

Hannibal tried not to pay too much attention to the half-comment about a Nar Shadda space station exploding. Largely because, if true, it would imply that Kitt's killcount was higher than Hannibal's. That was certainly not something the Fondorian was willing to cope with at this stage in his life. He callously jammed Gnarrik onto the impromptu-hover-stretch in whatever way he would fit. Stun bolts were powerful things, even for Barabel. He'd be out for the better part of the next twenty-hours. Even if they, like, stuck his hand in warm water or something. Did that even work on Reptiles?

"Nah. I got it." Hannibal replied, audibly miffed at the assumption he would require assistance. Though he supposed he should have been flattered that she was asking for life advice from him. Even though it was him who'd been sticking out of the tree, albeit getting Hannibal to admit to it a few weeks afterwards would be a tiresome task at best and impossible at worst.

"When the gift horse comes callin', don't look it in th' mouth." Hannibal said eventually. "I knew a guy an' his whole crew got iced tryin' ta milk a client for more money than th' bounty was posted for. Didn't end well, 'specially considerin' Hutts was involved."
 

Kitt Solo

Alen Na'Varro's Ex
@[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

She nodded, walking on the opposite side of their passed-out future credit cow. "The hutts ain't easy to work with. At least you don't have to worry about them double-crossing you and selling you into slavery. Then again, stats show male slaves are on the up and up in the galaxy. More and more CEO females want 'em." She was being completely serious. Moving at a more reasonable pace, she noted they would be at the spaceport soon-ish.

Thumb came up to brush the edge of her nose as she shot her trial-mentor a sideways glance. "You the lone-wolf type or do you usually work with others?"
 
@[member="Kitt Solo"]

"The better hunters do both, y'know." Hannibal snickered.

Lone wolfs were overrated, but worse was someone who couldn't do anything without a buddy tagging along to help. Some bounties, heists, and other such things are best handled by groups. Things requiring a degree of stealth or particularly small-peas bounties were best pursued by individuals. It varied depending on the situation, so it paid to be a good judge of what needed to happen to complete a certain job successfully.

"I gots a couple 'a friends I call in from time ta time." Hannibal continued on. "Sometimes, a bounty's too small to bother splittin', so I goes after 'em myself."

Eventually they exited the park, where the sound of air traffic was more prominent and a number of pedestrians watched curiously as they pushed an unconscious Barabel through the city's civilian streets... On a jury-rigged gurney. Thankfully, Hannibal never left his ship without his bounty hunter's license, his passport, or a copy of the bounty he was in pursuit of. Fighting with police or getting caught up in red tape wasn't on Hannibal's to-do list tonight.

"I gots a friend who's comin' down t' work security at some kinda weapons expo."
 

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