the mechanic and the jedi [english edition]

Montross

Seemingly aimlessly I wandered through the streets of the capital.
I kept a very specific goal in mind. According to the information I had received he was supposed to be in the saloon whose entrance I was unobtrusively shadowing.
I still could not believe that it was really him.
Of course, he was known for his brutality and his trademark was none other than always delivering his prey dead.
Montross was one of the best bounty hunters in the galaxy and as far as the rumors were true he was in strong competition with Jango Fett as the template for the republic's current clone army.
Montross was a pure mandalorian warrior and as such he could even have been the head of the Mandalorians after the civil war. But he had failed even at that and had to struggle along as a bounty hunter from then on.
I had always gotten along well with him apart from the fact that I had last ripped him off while playing cards. That was shortly before I had met Ahsoka.
Maybe now Montross would consider cutting off my head after all.
Whether he was angry with me or not.... He was responsible for Ahsoka's injuries and even if I died trying to kill him myself at least I had taken to my death with me.
It surprised myself that I was so indifferent to my own life when it came to helping Ahsoka. Even though I barely knew Ahsoka.... Even after she betrayed me. I just couldn't help myself.
It felt like the right thing to do.
Again, the image of her in the bacta tank popped up in my mind's eye and reinforced what I was doing.
Before I could ponder it further my target left the saloon.
This was my chance...
Unobtrusively I followed him into the poor quarter of the capital. Here was less hustle and bustle but hid in the corners and dark alleys more homeless and rats scurrying from one side of the street to the other.
Silently, I followed Montross into a dark, secluded cul-de-sac when he finally stopped with his back to me.
My hand rested ready to hand on the blaster which was in my customary thigh holster.
"What do you want?", Montross' voice was dangerously low but I could tell from his familiar tone that he knew it was me.