Darasuum // Din Djarin Mandalorian ♠️

Chapter Five - The Bounty

"I don't know about this Mando," I spoke up as we exited the Cantina. "A bounty that we have to meet the people who placed it for? It sounds like a trap."

"It's a job," he tried.

"One that could get us killed."

"All of our bounties could get us killed," he tried.

I stopped walking and it wasn't long before he noticed, turning to look at me.

"I love Greef and all, but I don't trust him Mando. I don't trust that he isn't sending us to our death."

"Then trust me," he replied. "One sign of danger other than the usual shit we get ourselves into and we bail."

I nodded slowly. "Okay."

"Okay. Now, hurry up. A bounty like this can't only have one hunter on it."

Sighing, I began walking again, catching up to his side. "I really need a vacation."

"I'll take you on one after this," he replied.

"Really?" I questioned, turning to look at the side of his helmet.

"Yes."

ᵜᵜᵜᵜᵜ

It was another building. One hidden by the houses of those who lived on Nevarro. I always thought that I was good at spotting danger from afar, and although I found myself concerned that Mando and I might be walking into a trap, it wasn't my intuition that told me it was a bad idea. It was the Stormtroopers standing guard outside the doors.

"Are they..." Mando began as we moved closer.

"Troopers?" I finished for him. "2nd generation Imperials by the looks of it."

"We're being employed by the Empire?" he questioned.

I turned my head to look at him. "What's left of it."

It was hard to explain the feelings that coursed through me as we were led through the doors of the building. I had been a Imperial myself for the better part of a decade. It shouldn't be this nerve-wracking, but I had gotten out. I had escaped.

Despite the relief I felt from leaving, walking right back into Hell was a lot harder than I thought. There were armed troopers everywhere. They armour was worn down by age and it was clear that they were on their own, but what worried me was the bounty.

There was a bounty on my head. That's what the woman had told me, and I began to question whether this target we were looking for was walking right into a trap.

"Ni vaabir not guuror ibic (I don't like this)," I muttered, tilting my head towards the Mandalorian for a moment.

"Ru'kir vi bail? (Should we bail?)" he questioned. 

The door in front of us opened, revealing a smaller room with a table in the middle. Two men sat at it.

"Greef Karga mentioned that he was sending his two best hunters," one spoke.

I knew him. Not by name, but by face. He was a general. Ordered a bunch of troops around, but last I heard, his team had been killed. It seemed like that wasn't the case.

"I just didn't imagine I would see a celebrity walk through my doors." His eyes were on me as he spoke. The man smiled. "It is nice to see you again."

Swallowing the knot that formed in the pit of my stomach, I moved to the table quickly, taking a seat. "I hate to tell you that I don't remember your name," I replied.

He laced his hands together, leaning forward towards me. Out of the corner of my eyes, I watched Mando take the seat beside me, his hand poised on the gun on his belt. He was tense. We both were.

"It's unimportant. This is Doctor Pershing," he replied, gesturing to the man he sat beside. Pershing nodded weakly.

"I never liked scientists. Always got to handsy," I told him, turning my eyes back to the general. "What's the payment for the bounty?"

"Does your friend not talk?" he asked, avoiding my request.

"He does, when he wants to, but Mando here is a man of few words."

He smiled. "Mandalorians," he breathed, looking at the armoured man beside me. "I haven't seen your kind in decades. I suppose Aria here knew all about you when you met."

I hated the way he stressed my name. As though he knew it wasn't the one the I was born with. His insinuations of my past were irritating.

"What's the payment for the bounty?" I asked again, leaning on the table.

Gesturing to a stormtrooper off to the side, he came back with a bar of metal, placing it on the table in front of us.

I stood quickly, eyes widening at the credits. Except they weren't credits. It was pure...

"Beskar?" the Mandalorian spoke up, hand reaching out towards it.

"Go ahead," the general told him. "It's real."

"Where did you get it?" I asked. "Bars like this don't exist anymore. Not since Mandalore fell. Not since the Great Purge."

"You know an awful lot about their history don't you?" he asked rhetorically.

Asshole. "I like to read."

"This is only a down payment," he explained. "I have a camtono of Beskar waiting for you upon delivery of the asset."

"Alive?" Mando questioned, taking the metal into his hand and placing it closer to him.

"Yes. Alive," the scientist spoke up, almost aggressively.

The general held a hand towards him, then regarding the two of us. "Although, I acknowledge that bounty hunting is a complicated profession. This being the case, proof of termination is also accepted," he paused, "for a lower fee."

"That is not what we agreed upon," Mando added.

"I'm simply being pragmatic."

"Let's see the puck."

"I'm afraid discretion dictate a less traditional agreement."

"Do explain," I commented, leaning against the back of the chair in my standing position.

"We can only offer you a tracking fob."

I scoffed. "What the chain code?" I asked.

"We can only give you the last four digits."

"That's not a lot to go on," I argued.

"Solo," Mando warned softly, and I let out a sigh, loosening the vice grip I hadn't noticed growing on the chair.

"They're fifty years old," the general told us. "We can also give you last reported positional data. Between that and the fob, a man of your skills and a woman like you," – he looked at me – "should make short work of this."