Small Jobs (The Bounty on Arisa Yune)

[Sal Katarn]

Silver Jedi Space
Voss

Katarn's nephilim-class landed smoothly outside the perimeter of the Jedi Temple on Voss. He went the rest of the way on foot. Didn't wear too much. Just some armorweave beneath the old, black poncho. A scavenged helmet from a dead Mando who no longer needed it. And his guns.

Some hunters went in looking like they were ready for breaching actions on a star destroyer. Rotary cannons and power armor and whatnot.

Not Sal's style.

The man reached the entrance to the temple, got stopped by some security. He flashed them his Guild license, then said in a sandpaper rasp,

"Lookin' for [member="Arisa Yune"]."

[member="Khthul the Elder"]

 

[Nadir]

One cigarette break earlier, those same security guys had experienced the deep discomfort of frisking a Quarian grandpappy.

Made all the worse, no doubt, by the fact that he grinned through it all.

Despite their mounting frustration, he carried a full and valid licence for every. single. one. of his seven handguns. In the end, they had to let him through (still grinning, still with a cig hanging from his mouth).

Presently, Khthul was side-eyeing the new commotion at the door. A tall lad, tanned and coarse.

Leathery.

He puffed out blue smoke and narrowed his red eyes. Och well. With a shake of the tentacles, he went back to the datapad in his lap. Had some readin’ to do on a miss [member="Arisa Yune"].

[member="Sal Katarn"]

 

[Sal Katarn]

Katarn stared at the Guard for a long moment.

“Dead?”

“Yeah, for the fifth time, lm telling you. She’s dead.”

Katarn’s helmeted head turned, staring over the shoulder of the guard toward a group of people carrying boxes out of the temple and toward a landing pad.

“Fixing to leave?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. None of your business, merc. Now scram, you’re starting to bug me.”

Sal grunted then walked over to a familiar Quarren resting nearby. The hunter removed his helmet
and nodded at the smoke betweeen the squid’s lips.

“Got another?”

[member="Khthul the Elder"]

 

[Nadir]

Beady eyes flickered briefly from the scrolling text on his datapad. Beak-teeth wiggled in amusement – a croak of a laugh curled from his shaking chest.

“Loo laddie. Eheheh.”

The quarren scooted over on the plasteel bench, tapping the free space with three claws and a smoke.

“Back fer more? Sure thing, eheh. ‘Ere.” Reaching into the inner pocket of his coat, he offered the cig to [member="Sal Katarn"]. Reaching up, he held the bright blue flame of a Nadir lighter to the tip, clicking it closed once it lit up.

“Oof. Das better, innit?” Khthul took a deep drag of the smoke and leaned his head against the wall. “Watcha doin’ ‘ere, lad?”