Private Fazers

[Xeykard]

That they called him the best had always been strange to Xeykard. To know something like that was hubris reserved for the Dark Lord; many a vaunted Sith or Jedi had crumbled even while sycophants sung their praises. That the Dark Lord had entrusted some work to him and some to Xeykard or other Sith seemed simply a matter of suitability. No one could be everywhere at once.

But here, he began to understand. He'd seen the Kaggath, seen him fight, but even on approach it was clear: none were a match for Koda Fett.

The Mandalorian had a read on Xeykard before he was even in sight -- he stood at the large balcony's railing, overlooking the Petrusian plains roiling ahead. There wasn't an inch of motion, but Fett had spotted him, knew his position before his first step outside. By the second step, he must have known Xeykard posed no immediate threat; he was still all the way up until Xeykard sidled up to him, having given the Mandalorian a bit of a berth, not foolish enough to beeline at him from behind. Though Xeykard towered over him, they stood on even ground.

"Koda Fett," he said. "This one hopes the auctioneers paid you well. To pay such a paltry sum for your services seems in ill taste." Of all the items he'd needed from the auction, Fett was certainly the most valuable.

"There will be more, of course -- this one's project necessitates... an extended contract."

Koda Fett ​

 

[Koda Fett]

It seemed the Alliance had abandoned hope of his capture with the warrant for his arrest pulled and abandoned. Still, the expenses required to avoid lawman patrols and dispose of ambitious hunters had been detrimental - the reason behind his services being included in the Black Sun auction to begin with, as well as capturing that Jedi and placing them in a carbonite slab. Even if the Sith had won that auction or not, Fett would have answered the call in such desperate need for credits.

His armoured form turned around with a slow, deliberate motion. He was a statue, in that sense. Other than the tattered remnants of a cloak that clung to one shoulder, billowing in the wind that rose up from the plains below. It was clear that he was a veritable weapons platform, with both internal armaments that remained attached to his beskar armour and those that he carried on him. There was no doubt more hidden somewhere unseen.

"I was paid well enough," his modulated voice did not betray his financial troubles, saying so with a tilt of his helmet and a shrug. "Tell me, what's the job?"

The Mandalorian had heard of Xeykard. Rather, Fett had heard of what he had done more so than who he was. The Barabel was a frequent galactic terror that seemed to manage well enough with his own resources. Until now, that is. He could only wonder what he needed a- no, the bounty hunter for.

Xeykard

 

[Xeykard]

He raised a hand, belaying the bounty hunter's question.

"This one has spent over three decades in the service of the Dark Lord. His gifts were rare, but overwhelming -- this one rose to great heights, earned greater power. But the goal remained the same. Power. Control. Each hunt was in that manner."

He leaned on the railing, looked out at the plains. "Early in the war, this one was sent to the fringes. A shadowport, little more than a block of ice -- Stigler's Hope, in the side of a comet. Smugglers and low-lives gathered there. It felt like a distraction, to fight such weak creatures as they, when the New Imperials threatened the Sith. A cruiser matched against a paltry few freighters. And yet, most escaped. Careful paces by a few Jedi exposed this one's weakness. Yet the work remained. This one fought everywhere to preserve the Sith, then to avenge them, and then this one was left behind. Now, again, with this... Blackwall. But the work remains. Now this one works with even the Ithorian, one that escaped at Stigler's Hope."

He gestured to Fett, opening the floor. "Your work for the Dark Lord. Speak on your hunts," he asked.

Koda Fett ​

 

[Koda Fett]

He leaned against the balcony with the Barabel, a foot lifted and pressed against a lower rung. Listening to Xeykard regale Fett in his stories, he knew the Ithorian in an instant.; Jerec, a wormy bastard with luck on his side wherever he went.

"I handled the business beyond his means," Fett said, "But I'm a professional. My client's business is their own."

The Sith paid him for an assortment of jobs. It could have been to kill someone, to capture them. Even to steal. To destroy. It hardly mattered much to him. If it had a price, it could be cashed in. And Koda was always afforded first right of refusal. Some generous benefits, too, with a Sith-made ship.

"But, things have dried up since the Blackwall. His schemes, whatever they are, no longer require me. I have the codes to enter whenever I want, but there's no profit with the Sith anymore."

Xeykard

 

[Xeykard]

Xeykard studied the Mandalorian, trying to find a break in the beskar. That he found none was simultaneously disconcerting and ideal.

"A professional. That you are." He tapped two knuckles to his forehead, and rolled his fingers towards Fett in salute. "His work stalls. This one's begins. There are profits here, however -- you have this one's word."

He shifted his weight to one side, facing Fett properly. "The Sith have lost their way. Great violence is required to set it right. This one has no doubts of your ability, however, violence is not your primary role.

"The Malsheem -- the Dark Lord's great work. This one requires a reliable way to track it, or at the very least accurately locate it at regular intervals, without detection. The security measures are significant, and your discovery would be a significant setback. This one would... understand refusal.

"But- your reputation precedes you. No other would succeed." He pulled back slightly, giving Fett space to make his assessment.

Koda Fett ​

 

[Koda Fett]

His arms came up, folding across the breastplate. If Fett had any reservations, it was impossible to say. His 'face' was as still as ever.

"I can make it into the Blackwall. The Malsheem is something else," he began, "It moves around."

The Mandalorian had been there a handful of times for a handful of reasons. Each time, however, there was no chance of finding the Malsheem if not for the updated coordinates being transmissioned across. And as Sith Space expands, the pond it swims in grows larger. He was not yet bought on this plan, albeit able to humour it. It was ambitious, to say the least.

Of all the obstacles, the first seemed to be the need to reestablish contact. There was no reason to just yet, but... Fett could think of one.

His helmeted head tilted ever-so-slightly.

"There's word the Imperials aim to launch an assault on the Sith. I could get in there, use that as a cover for making contact. See where things lead."

Xeykard

 

[Xeykard]

Xeykard considered this, looking silently at the Mandalorian.

"There will surely be bounties to pursue," he said. "No need for an excuse. While this one..." His mind went to the Sith-Imperial border, tracing vectors of attack. A sufficient means to break through the Blackwall, then- an excuse for Xeykard. He'd need access...

"One hundred thousand underworld credits. Any equipment, facilities this one can provide -- yours, in the course of your work. Soon this one will be a pariah to the Sith, as must be done. Tread as you must."

A pause. "An Imperial attack... Brosi, among their targets, certainly. This one requires one other thing: a slicer. You must know the best, in your line of work."

Koda Fett ​

 

[Koda Fett]

A worthwhile sum. It could cover expenses with profit to spare. Tie him over until Raz or Mauve needed something, someone - dead or alive, destroyed or stolen. Saves the need to scrape up after those lesser bounties the guilds post up on their boards; all their rules proved annoying.

He nodded, dedicating the Brosi system to memory.

"Goes by Hacks, best one I ever worked with." Fett answered, "Find her on Nar Shaddaa, somewhere. I could find her, but... I have a reunion to catch."

Xeykard

 

[Xeykard]

"Hm. Nar Shaddaa will be no issue," he drew himself to his full height once more, then put out an arm to clasp Fett's, sealing their contract.

"Do what must be done."

Koda Fett ​