Jungle Fever

[GhostwiththeToast]

Shay'a idly wiped the knife off from her boot as she stared down at the corpse of a Trandoshan before her. The body belonged to one Sktar Nak, a mercenary-for hire much like herself who found himself on the wrong side of a Hutt, who in turn decided to place a bounty on the Trandoshan's head. Shay'a had been tracking the man down for weeks now, a chase that had taken her through several planets before finally ending on Tatooine. Even after arriving on the planet, Sktar remained allusive, and it took a week on the planet's surface before she managed to track Sktar down to an ancient Czerka factory, half swallowed by the shifting dunes.

Sktar had anticipated her arrival.

The foundry was brimming with traps, and only a keen eye and a bit of luck saved Shay'a from an untimely end and a chance to confront her quarry. The two exchanged blaster fire before closing to engage each other. The Trandoshan had been strong, stronger than Shay'a even, but the Mandalorian managed to prevail by the skin of her teeth, driving her vibro dagger deep into the saurian's chest.

She kneels down now, taking her blade to the corpse and collecting its head and a clawed hand, tucking them away in separate bags. She rose, sliding her dagger back into its sheath and taking one last look at the body behind her.

"I'll remember you, Sktar." She said to herself before trudging back out into the sands with her spoils.

---------------------------------------

The speeder trip back to town had been relatively uneventful. Shay'a had passed by a group of Tusken, but they hadn't given her much trouble before she zipped away on her bike. She brought the vehicle back to where she had rented it from, quickly giving her thanks, as well as a few credits, before moving on. She moved quickly towards the port, taking off her helmet and affixing it to her belt as she walked briskly. Shay'a wanted to get off this planet. She was used to the heat truth be told, her home world had a similar temperature to it, but the aridity of this desert world had slowly been eating at her for the week she had stayed on it until it was ready to drive her mad. Finally, though, she could get off this rock.

The walk to the spaceport was brief, and Shay'a found the dock that her ship was stored at - Dock B-27. She stepped up to the doorman, giving him a quick nod and sliding a card across the terminal to him. He looked at it, slide it into the terminal, and then looked back up at the woman.

"Alright, ma'am. It will be a few minutes before we get your ship ready for take off. But once that's done you're free to leave." He said before heading into the docking bay.

Shay'a let out a relieved sigh. Soon she could go home.

Home - Dxun.

 

[Thecomicbookbroad]

"I hope this message finds you w"-

Her Gloved finger tips pecked the keys of the communicator in rapid succession then abruptly halted; hand hanging stiffly in the air.
She clicked back 25 characters and began again.

"I am notifying you out of personal obligation that"-

Beneath her visor, eyes scanned the line of text with scrutiny. Shev’dela exhaled audibly and unfiltered by her translator; leaning back into the deep set bench of a Space port in the outermost barrens of Tattooine. Her posture went limp and she let her head clap against the top rail, giving her HUD a detailed view of the hazy morning sky. She lifted her communications pad and clicked back 42 characters.

"He has died.
I am returning him home .Do not attempt to intercept me. We are already in route.
Siblings have been notified.
Do not attempt to intercept me".

She selected a recipient with finality and let her finger hover over the confirmation with hesitation.

“Calhuu Ordo.”

"Buir".

It was sent. The deed was done. She could leave the planet with a potential anchor avoided.

Kicking up her legs for leverage she rocked back forward into a hunched sitting position and pocketed the pad. She wasn't a very intimidating woman, even in full armor. Slight in size and relatively squat she remained unapproached or badgered by the passing locals. Her thigh plates lightly clacked together and she rested her hands in her lap, atop a small leather survival pack-Her cargo for the trip ahead. It wasn’t much but it was the essentials. Delmon had been kind enough to retrieve the bulk of it…

Within the week she’d lost her father, taken her last job as a guide to the Alor of her clan and grown to trust him enough to accept an invitation back to Dxun; where Ordo was…Where she belonged. Shev readily prepared to leave her life on Tattooine behind. She had been eager to do so for years, but always lacked a viable outlet- a destination really and as hard as it was to admit the autonomy. It had happened so fast and by the time Delmon had departed with her cargo she’d hardly let the reality hit her.

But it was real now. Her things were already there waiting for her and her goodbyes had been said…now she just needed her ride.

And he was nearly an hour late.

Peering about she saw neither hind nor hair of the Kiffar and checking her messages offered no reassurance. Though she knew many of the locals by name there were only a choice few she trusted to give the coordinates to the Skyblade compound- Clan Ordo’s base of actions. According to Delmon it was well hidden and nearly impossible to reach without the proper ones… Luey was a good enough pilot but more importantly she knew he could keep tight lipped and loyal. She’d worked with him often in her fledgling years as a guide and they’d forged a solid enough bond beyond business. Another hour passed and she awoke to find herself lying couched on the bench. Embarrassingly at home in public with her pack behind her head like an oversized waxed canvas pillow. A message was fresh in her inbox:

"That cargo we pulled in last week screwed me! The salvage guys cracked open the boxes and found some seedy slag! Probably spice- Took me into the station and I’ve been stuck here ever since- Get off world ASAP. I’m sorry but"-

She closed the pad, distressed.

Stranded.

What were the odds a pilot would pick up a short notice stray with a need for secrecy and a Gaffi stick on her back? Standing up stiffly she shouldered her bag and shifted its sagging weight for comfort, bumping its frame with her hip and letting her rifle sling lean on the lighter side. The search was on and she’d need some aid. Without pausing in her stride she summoned her probe droid.

“Geir-ma.” She said with as much enthusiasm as her automated voice could muster and a small spherical shape in her pack stirred and freed itself, taking to the air.
It hovered in orbit around her awaiting orders and clicking rhythmically.

“Locate an unoccupied pilot and deliver your feed to my hud. Seek candidates with…” She paused, momentarily slowing.

“Perceived commonality”

And with that, it whizzed off, dodging the heads of annoyed strangers and making a B-line for a tall dark haired woman down the hall.

 

[GhostwiththeToast]

Shay'a leaned her back up against the sandstone brick that made up the wall of the dusty desert spaceport. She let out a breath through her nose, closing her eyes while she waited for the minutes to tick by. Every second that she spent waiting on this arid hole felt like an eternity to her, and now that she was almost on her way home she couldn't help but feel a restlessness take hold of her. She could almost feel the damp rains of Dxun upon her skin.

Shay'a's eyes darted open at the sound of a metallic whizzing approaching her. Instinctively, she reached for the dagger resting at her hip, gripping tightly to the hilt as she scanned the crowd for the source of the sound. It was not hard to spot, that robotic ball charging right for her. She let out a low growl, her gaze following the sphere as it flew up to her. The ball started to zip around her, scanning every inch of the woman for similarities, and indeed there were. For among the Mandalorians there was one, distinctive feature that they all shared, regardless of their species or gender, and that was their armor, the beskar'gam.

"What do you want, little thing?" Shay'a finally asked.

The orb, in response, floated up to the red-headed warrior's face. Shay'a barred her teeth in response, gnashing them at the robot in an aggressive manner. Shay'a managed to catch a glimpse of the robot's owner from the other end of the sparsely populated dock. She could make out who the woman was at a glance, Shay'a knew what sort of woman that was even from a distance. She looked back to the sphere, squinting. "She yours then, eh? Ah, well. . ." Shay'a shrugged, "Even if she weren't, probably a lot more interesting than you, bucket. Step aside." Shay'a reached up, swatting at the floating orb as if it were some sort of pest before she trudged towards Shev'dela.

Her heavy, durasteel boots landed loudly with each step she took as she closed the distance between herself at Shev'dela. Shay'a squinted again as she tried to make out the woman's features more clearly, with every inch she moved closer revealing more and more to the Mandalorian. The woman she saw was short, that was the first thing that Shay'a was able to notice about her. However, she hadn't quite realized how short Shev was until be came into focus. Shay'a smirked, the waifish woman would no doubt be as quick as a viper, and the way her armor was built reflected that.

The card in her hand beeped, and Shay looked down to regard it. The red light on the top sparked to green, causing Shay'a to let out a sigh of relief. Her ship was ready, and she could leave. The woman looked over her shoulder at the door to the dock. She could leave, right now, and forget about the small, strange woman who was no close close.

Her curiosity won out, however, and Shay'a turned back around to close the few feet left between them.

Shay'a came to a halt, the braided trophies dangling from her shoulder pad swaying at the abrupt secession of motion. She placed a hand upon her hip, the towering woman starting down at the tiny Tusken before her. The two looked complete opposites. Shev'dela, the small and spry fighter wearing light armor and a gaffi stick. Shay'a, standing almost a full foot over her counterpart, wearing bulky plate armor and wearing a brutal looking arsenal upon her - from daggers and bone-hilted vibroblades, to an archaic looking blaster rifle and a belt full of grenades.

Shay'a stood there in silence, her face expressionless as she gazed right into the visor of Shev'dela's helmet.

A few moments later, she broke into a wide, wolfish grin.

"Hell, you're short."

 

[Thecomicbookbroad]

Shev continued her walk a short way before slowing. The video feed in the corner of her HUD went from peaking her curiosity to seizing her full attention within seconds and she stopped in place; index and middle finger against her temple to enhance the image of a vibrant armored redhead. She peered through Geir-ma's optic as if it were her own and was transfixed. A bonafied Mandalorian female;Head to boot the very picture of one! Adorned with trophies and the soot of battles won, Scalps and bones, scarred duresteel and hides from fallen beast- Her hair was to intensely red it made the pigment slightly bleed outside the lines on the hud's screen...

She'd had such little contact with her own people she was nearly starstruck by the sight of them. By the time the feed was cut she'd turned to meet the subject eye to chest diamond- Shev took a sharp step back and peered up nervously like a caught peeping tom. Silence fell between them and her fight or flight instincts tugged at her neck-seal with urgency. Then...the woman spoke.

Shev looked about dumbly as if questioning who was being addressed then awkwardly shoved out her forearm for the customary greeting she'd rehersed as a child.

"su-cu-ee-gar." He translator spat out phonetically, devoid of any excitement she might have felt.

"da-la." It finished sharply. They were Pretty words for something that roughly meant 'Hey woman.'

Geir-ma whizzed back to her and clumsily knocked her shoulder plate as it passed- dropping her rucksack to the ground- but Shev had little reaction, still holding out her forearm stiffly and hoping for it to be clenched in return.

"I am called Shev'Dela." She said.

 

[GhostwiththeToast]

Shay'a lips curled into a slight frown as she listened to the woman speak. She eyed her smaller counterpart with an even gaze, sizing the woman up once more now that the two of them were standing face to face. The frown twists into a grin once more, and she grasps the offered forearm eagerly, giving it a firm shake.

"Shev'Dela, huh? A good name." She paused, "You look at sound the part of a Mandalorian, though I do have to wonder if using a translator is cheating." The large woman shrugged her shoulders carelessly, "I suppose I'll just have to find out then, eh?"

Shay'a glanced at the droid, Geir-ma, as it came floating back to its master. She barred her teeth at the robot aggressively, pausing momentarily to gauge the automaton's reaction. The woman let out a breath through her nose, then turned her attention back to Geir-ma's owner.

"I suppose I made a good guess in figuring this piece of junk was yours, guess that means you need something, huh?" Shay'a asked curiously, glancing down at her card once more as the green light upon it flashed.

"Speak quickly, though. I've got a chance to get off this miserable little rock and get back to Dxun. And I'll be damned if I'm going to spend any more time than I need to here."

Shay'a turned back around, motioning the Tusken to follow her as she made her way to the hanger.

 

[Thecomicbookbroad]

Shev’dela took Shay’a’s hand in hers gratefully and returned her grasp with a stiff solitary shake. At the word ‘cheating’ she hung her head self-consciously, a little natural sound of discomfort escaping unfiltered from her mouth. Geir-ma orbited the pair curiously then fled at the first sign of aggression from the snarling female, hiding behind the short Tusken like a cowardly pup.

“He is called Geir-ma.” She said before the gravity of the stranger’s words sunk in. She shouldered her pack then exclaimed with realization:

"Oh."

“OH!... Dxun!”

Stuffing the still active droid back into her oversized pack she hurried after the armored Redhead frantically.

“My destination also lies on the Onderon moon of Dxun.” Her speakers flared slightly and she found her short legs working overtime to compensate for Shay’a’s long effortlessness strides.

“My clan has called me to join them and I find myself without transport. If our destinations are identical I can offer you monetary compensation for your assistance.”
She sped up a bit to walk closer to the human’s side and reiterated:

“…Your clan resides on the Onderon moon? That is your destination?”

 

[GhostwiththeToast]

"Credits, huh?" Shay'a asked curiously as she slipped her card through a reader on the door. Lighting flared to life above the metal door, which let out a hiss of air as it slowly slide open. Shay'a stepped into the circular, open room and stood for a moment to admire the vessel that filled the center.

In truth, the ship was hardly anything worth writing about. The ship was old, the once pristine green paint that hand coated the exterior had long since been reduced to several shrinking patches of color upon the dirty grey hull. The ships looks almost as battered as her armor, with several scars in the hull made by far too many close calls.

Shay'a walks over to the ship, running her hand along the belly of her ship before glancing back at Shev'Dela, "The Jungle Cat shes called. Not the prettiest girl in the verse here, but she gets me from one place to another."

The red-head turns back to face Shev'Dela, "Yes, my clan lives on Dxun. Been living there ever since that last hurrah of ours in the Mandalorian Wars. Plan on heading that way and dropping off a few supplies. Part of the reason I'm out here." She taps the side of her ship for emphasis. "The other reason I'm out here was for a bounty."

Shay'a heads up the ramp to her ship, slapping a red button on the side. She looks over at her fellow warrior as the doors slowly begin to slide open, inch by inch, "I'm not interested in your credits. If you're a Mandalorian then you're family, and I don't charge family. I will, however, be dragging you out onto a hunting trip on Dxun once you've got your business sorted. Consider that your fare, eh?"

 

[Thecomicbookbroad]

Shev'dela followed after Shay'a' like a desperate stray and only hung back once the ship's doors were opened. She sighed internally and let her gaze fall to the floor a bit- expecting the next sentence after "I'm not interested in your credits" to be somewhere along the lines of "scram". So much so in fact she'd already mentally prepared for the disappointment and was ready to turn back.

Then, what had just been said finally registered and she was astonished by the generosity of the offer. It was the first time she'd first hand experienced the sense of community her culture had to offer.

"Yes!" She cried, holding the straps of her pack with both hands and bouncing it as she hopped forward with childish excitement.

It wasn't exactly the most womanly thing to do by Mandalorian standards but she went in for an awkward embrace around Shay'a's middle and added.

" Thank you my sister- what are you called?"