Private Hunter of Hunters

[Jonah]

NAR SHADDAA
Vora's Lounge, Nar Shaddaa

The stink of this place hadn’t changed.

Spice. Sweat. Desperation. All baked into the neon-lit grime of Nar Shaddaa’s underbelly. Jonah could almost hear the laughter—their laughter—echoing in the back of his skull, ghostly and sharp, like a joke long since turned cruel. Haxion Brood days. Back when he still believed in building something that might last. Two friends, two shadows—vanished. No farewell. No grave. Just silence.

All that remained was ash.

But tonight wasn't for ghosts.

He slid past the bouncers without a glance. Black trench, mirrored shades, blast vest snug beneath—he looked like trouble, which meant nobody dared test if he was more than just that. The bass thumped through the club's bones, bodies pulsing in rhythm beneath flickering lights. Jonah took a seat at the bar, leaned in with just enough weariness to seem like a man looking to drown something.

He ordered the kind of drink he wouldn’t touch. Kept his target in the corner of one lens.

Ex-Mandalorian. Oathbreaker. Traitor to his brother’s Empire. Plenty of credits on his head—but Jonah wasn’t here for a payout.

He was here for closure.

The man laughed with some dancers, unaware the noose was already around his neck. Jonah tapped the rim of his glass, counting seconds. Measuring options. One wrong move, and this would turn into a bloodbath.

But that was the thing about Nar Shaddaa. Blood washed off easy.

It was time to move. Almost.

Just a little closer, dar’manda. Let me see your eyes before I put you down.​

Tag: Ann Lyn Vex

 

[Ann Lyn Vex]

Somewhere opposite him, on the far side of the bar, someone else had their eyes on his target.

Ann sat in one of the back corners, concealed where the light from the dying bulbs couldn't quite reach her. Quite frankly, she hated it in here. The smell of spice was everywhere. Every breath was suffocating to her, bringing back unwanted memories from her past. Sooner this was over with, the better.

This bounty was a little outside her usual pay grade. But she needed the extra cash, and it certainly did pay well. She didn't really know much of him. Just that she needed him dead.

Slipping a blaster out under the table, she cocked the trigger back, not glancing away from her target. Her attention was solely on him. Unaware of anyone else in the room. Perhaps that was her first mistake tonight.

 

[Jonah]

VORA'S LOUNGE, NAR SHADDAA

Jonah spotted the movement in the reflection of his glass.

Subtle. Practiced. But not perfect. A hand drifting beneath the table, the gleam of metal catching what little light flickered in the back corner of the club.

His eyes didn’t shift. Not visibly. But his awareness tightened like a wire.

She wasn’t part of his plan.

Which meant she was a problem.

Competition wasn’t unexpected—it was Nar Shaddaa, after all—but it was inconvenient. He didn’t like messy. He didn’t like rushed. And he definitely didn’t like watching some freelancer blow a hole through his target before he got what he came for.

So, he adjusted.

Out of the corner of his vision, a bottle service girl floated past—young, distracted, and trying too hard not to look tired. Jonah let his presence stretch into the Force, not to control, not to bend, but to whisper. A feather-light push against her mind.

That guy looks like a big spender. Why not check if he needs another bottle?

She blinked. Pivoted. And like that, she was off—cutting across the club toward the target, a practiced smile on her lips and a tray in hand.

Jonah smiled behind the rim of his untouched drink.

The blaster girl’s line of sight? Gone.

He rose, drink in hand, coat shifting around his legs like smoke. He crossed the floor like he belonged there, casual but deliberate, and stopped a few paces from her shadowed perch. Tilted his head. Let his voice cut through the haze like a vibroblade.

“You look like you could use a drink.”

He didn’t wait for her answer. Just offered a crooked half-smile, like they were old friends who hadn’t quite decided whether to shoot each other or share a toast.​

Ann Lyn Vex​

 

[Ann Lyn Vex]

Damn it. Ann muttered under her breath as her line of sight was cut off. It was rather inconvenient. She'd had an all but clear shot for the past 3 minutes, and now that opening was gone. She had to move, get in closer, catch sight of him again before she lost him.

Draining the remainder of the liquid in her glass - she'd already payed for it, and she wasn't about to let it go to waste - she moved to stand. Her eyes were scanning the crowd where she'd lost sight of her target, hoping to catch another glimpse.

There. The throng parted for a moment, allowing her to regain sightings on him.

All she needed to do now was make a shot. A nice, clean, swift-

"Ahh Shucks!"

A voice had interrupted her thoughts. Her gaze flickered to him momentarily. A moment too long. When she scanned the crowd again, her target was once again lost.

"Sorry. Um..." She trailed off as her mind caught up with what was happening. Reluctantly, she gave the man her attention.

"Sorry, do I know you?"

 

[Jonah]

VORA'S LOUNGE, NAR SHADDAA

Jonah took a slow sip from his glass—finally—and let her question hang for just a second longer than was comfortable.

Then, he glanced past her shoulder.

“No, you don't.” he said, voice smooth as silk, sharp as glass.

Another glance toward the crowd confirmed it—his mark was gone. Slipped into the press of bodies, vanished beneath the pulse of lights and bass. Not irretrievable, but definitely inconvenient.

He clicked his tongue once, then gave the woman a look that fell somewhere between amused and annoyed.

“Flashing iron like that in a place like this?” He arched a brow. “Sloppy.”

A pause.

“Especially when you're stepping on someone else’s hunt.”

He didn’t reach for a weapon. Didn’t need to. The weight of his presence said enough.

Ann Lyn Vex​

 

[Ann Lyn Vex]

Ann had known that this man was a stranger to her. She was simply buying time so her mind could catch up with this change. She hadn't been expecting company. Just a few more seconds uninterrupted and she would have fired that shot, rendering the man dead. Then she'd disappear in the chaos the followed.

Obviously, disappearing wouldn't have been quite so easy, knowing now that he was here. If he'd noticed her blaster under the table from across the room, no doubt it would've been all too easy for him to identify her after she'd made the shot and killed her target.

The air suddenly felt thick between them, and Ann was aware of every breath she took. She knew she had to tread carefully. If she didn't things could take a rapid downhill turn from here onwards. The blaster had come to rest in her hostler again. The less of a threat she appeared, the better.

Ann ignored his comment on her sloppiness. He was obviously no stranger to this business. Any normal person wouldn't have batted an eye her way. Although she doubted anyone in this stench could be considered normal.

"As far as I'm concerned it's not your hunt." She replied with an even tone. "Open bounty. Anyone can claim it."

She wasn't looking for any unnecessary trouble. Her words weren't designed to provoke him. Just a subtle way to try and keep the peace. She was just here to get a job done and get paid. That's all.

 

[Jonah]

VORA'S LOUNGE, NAR SHADDAA

Jonah noted the shift—the blaster tucked back where it belonged—but didn’t relax. Not entirely. Trouble came in quiet packages too, and he’d danced this dance before.

His eyes stayed on her, unreadable behind the mirrored shades, until he gave a soft scoff and looked past her—toward the crowd, toward where the mark had disappeared.

“Normally,” he said, tone cool and clipped, “I’d agree with you.”

He stepped just a little closer, not threatening, but firm. Like gravity.

“But that man’s more than the average mark. He’s a traitor to Mandalore. So he’ll be cut down by Mandalore.”

A long beat passed as Jonah eyed her, weighing the edge of her stance, the spark behind her eyes, the itch of time slipping through his fingers.

“I’m not in this for the pay,” he added flatly. “Once I put him down, you’re welcome to collect whatever’s left on his head.”

Another pause, then quieter.

“He just has to die by Mandalorian hands.”​

Ann Lyn Vex​

 

[Ann Lyn Vex]

Ann fought the urge to step back as he shifted closer. She wasn't a fan of close proximity. Made it harder for her to defend herself if needed.

"Mandalorian, you say?"

Her caution was clearly heard in her words. She'd heard of the Mandalorians before. Of course she had. Who in this line of field hadn't? But she'd never actually met one. Not properly, at least.

It seemed she'd be able to get the pay either way. He supposedly didn't care about it, and for some reason, she believed him on that front. He could see her weighing the options, running the possibilities through her mind. Only around one of them turned out well for her in the end.

"And... if I were to kill him anyways?" She asked, just to test the waters. "Then what?"

Ann was fairly certain she knew the answer already.

 

[Jonah]

VORA'S LOUNGE, NAR SHADDAA

Jonah heard the shift in her voice when she said it—Mandalorian.

That word still carried weight. As it should. It wasn’t just armor and war stories. It was a bloodline of fire, of creed, of history carved into bone. And she recognized that now. Even if just a little.

Her question earned a smile. Crooked. Sharp. But it didn’t reach his eyes.

“You join him in the crosshairs.”

He said it simply. Not as a threat. Just the truth.​

Ann Lyn Vex​

 

[Ann Lyn Vex]

A smile was good. Even if it didn't seem entirely genuine... It meant he didn't intend on killing her just yet.

Right?

"I figured as much." Ann replied, matching his tone.

Even so, she didn't particularly like the idea of giving up her mark. It had taken her way too long to track him down. It was pretty unsatisfactory if she didn't even get to finish the job after all that.

"Let me help you." She said. It wasn't desperate or pleading. Just matter of fact. "You get the kill, deal the final blow, avenge your people or whatever it is you want, I still get my bounty, and then we go our separate ways. You never have to see my face ever again. How's that sound?"

It was annoying, really, how many people turned her away believing her inexperienced. Just because she was young. And maybe still a little naive. She'd admit to that. But Ann thought herself more than adequate to meet people's needs. Most people, unfortunately, did not share her opinions.

That's why she assumed immediately that he was going to turn her down.

"Before you answer, wouldn't it be much better if you knew exactly where I was? Remove any chance of me stuffing you up or getting in your way again?" She was aware she was encroaching on the point of rambling, so she shut herself up before she ran the risk of pissing him off. Because she could tell already it wouldn't be a fun experience for her if she did.

Jonah​

 

[Jonah]

Jonah’s brows lifted at her offer. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t scoff or shoot her down—just watched her as she talked, the corner of his mouth twitching once in some unreadable expression. Then, he went quiet.

Not the kind of quiet that smothered a conversation. The kind that weighed it. Measured it.

Her reasons were sound. Better to have an asset than a loose thread. And she wasn’t begging—she was bartering. That counted for something.

After a moment, he stepped forward and extended a gloved hand.

“You got a deal, hunter.”

If she accepted his gesture, she'd find his grip firm, short. Business.

Then his head turned slightly, just enough to indicate their mark without drawing too much attention. The target was already slipping off toward the back—one arm around a woman with too much glitter on her cheeks and not enough sense in her eyes.

Jonah’s jaw ticked.

“He’s making his move. Wants a quieter corner to talk sweet, or something worse. Either way, that’s our window.”

His voice lowered a fraction, weight behind every word.

“We do this clean. No scene. Chaos makes people stupid. Gets good people dead.”

His eyes cut back to her, sharp and steady.

“You ready to move?”

Ann Lyn Vex​

 

[Ann Lyn Vex]

She shifted slightly in the silence, waiting for his response. He was considering it. That much was clear. Whether he was going to agree or not, that was anyone's guess.

A small, satisfied smile comes to her lips once he revealed his decision. Great. She hadn't spent all this time tracking the target for nothing. She wondered briefly how long it had taken this man to locate their target. No doubt it had been faster than her.

Ann accepted his hand. Whilst his shake was firm and short, hers was softer. Not weaker by any means. Just softer. On the edge of being friendly. It said that she wasn't here to make enemies. Especially enemies that far outnumbered her skills, as she was certain this man did.

As she withdrew her hand, she allowed her eyes to flicker in the direction he'd motioned. It was only brief, just long enough to see what he was talking about, before her attention was back on what he was saying.

Right. No chaos. No scene. She could manage that. Never intended to hurt anyone besides her target anyways.

"Ready when you are."

Ann decided it best to let him lead. He was clearly more experienced, and she didn't want to accidently kill the target. She had a feeling that would not end well for her.

Jonah​

 

[Jonah]

Her handshake was softer than his, but not uncertain. There was a kind of muted strength in it, like a knife wrapped in silk. Not there to challenge, but to signal that she wasn’t bluffing. Jonah registered it with a small nod, then turned without another word.

Confidence was the name of the game.

He moved like he belonged, each step measured, unhurried. The kind of gait that didn’t draw eyes because it didn’t care if it did. People looked twice at hesitation, at guilt. They didn’t look twice at purpose.

The two of them passed through the haze of sweat and perfume, dodging dancers and drunken laughter, until they reached the back corridor. A metal door swung open just long enough for them to slip inside. Staff access, no guards tonight, just poor lighting and cheap music bleeding through the walls.

The locker room was narrow. Humid. A mix of uniforms and broken dreams hanging from open hooks.

The mark was near the far end, half-hidden behind a row of dented lockers. One arm still around the glitter-cheeked girl, his voice low and syrupy.

“You help me relax, sweetheart, I’ll make it worth your while. Credits, transport off-world, whatever you want.”

Jonah pressed himself flush against a locker, his form shadowed in the dim light. One boot braced to keep silent.

He didn’t look back. Just murmured, barely audible.

“Go around. Get close. On my signal, quiet the girl. No harm, just keep her from screaming.”

Then, slow and deliberate, Jonah drew his knife. The metal caught the light like a promise.

Ann Lyn Vex

 

[Ann Lyn Vex]

She trailed a few steps behind him. For each of his purposeful strides, she had to take multiple to keep up with him. And even then she felt herself lagging slightly. But she daren't ask him to slow the pace.

His attempt to avert the eye through confidence may as well have been non-existant. For her stature, Ann was moving at an unnaturally fast pace to keep up. Lucky for Ann, people weren't paying attention. Either that or they simply didn't care enough.

She slipped into the locker room behind the Mandolorian, just as the door softy swung shut.

It took her a moment to adjust to the dim lighting.

When she did, Ann could make out the two figures at the end of the row.

His words almost made her feel sick. Any man who tried to bribe a woman into 'helping them relax' deserved a bullet through the head. In her opinion.

As the Mandolorian came to a stop, Ann almost made collision with his back. She averted that disaster just in time, cursing herself inwardly. Way to make an impression.

His words, despite being barely audible, registered in her mind.

So he was getting both of his unwanted company out of his way in the same moment. Glad to see he appreciated her presence. Without giving a response, she moved into the row of lockers over.

She was capable of more than this. She'd collected bounties before. She wasn't amatuer or anything. If you ignored the fact that most of the bounties she collected had ended in a near death experience, that was. Okay, maybe she wasn't that good, but she could do more than simply removing collateral damage.

Still, soon enough Ann had reached the far end of the row. She didn't round the corner, knowing she was too close to the target to safely do so without blowing cover.

And she waited. For his 'signal.'

Whatever the hell that meant.

Jonah
​