Target Practice

[Jack Graves]

Brandy, you're a fine girl, what a good wife you would be, but my life, my love, and my lady is the sea.


The words drifted from an old holorecorder with a shimmering band barely making a dent in the dusty air. Wispy and forlorn, like ghosts these monuments to long dead musicians were fading to match their makers. That's what you got in the outer rim, everything was scarce here except memory and dust. Blood feuds, tragedy, starvation, it flowed like water here and ironically the water itself didn't. That's what led Jack to the general store though the luminous sign outside with its many outages on let on a few letters to that effect.

Inside the proprietor was a Yuzzum. A small fuzzy fellow who for some reason beloved his feast of fur meant he was excused from wearing clothes. Jack might have disagreed, but he was on business and also didn't care. What he did care about was the price on supplies. Tapping the list angrily the store owner raised a readied hand already having this conversation many times. He spoke rapidly in his tongue and while the bounty hunter picked up a few words and the tone was hostile he couldn't understand the lion's share. In a hurry the usually outwardly calm man slammed his fist on the counter. Everything for a moment moved then all at once it all stopped leaving only hearts and breath to count out the moment of silence,

"Speak basic"

Coughing the creature was obviously not used to the more common tongue and soon laid out an explanation in a thick accent,

"Last caravan got raided on the way here. Price is the price, can't pay. No dice"

Cracking his knuckles one by one on the counter, Jack merely stared at the Yuzzum. He needed food. He needed fuel. His parched tongue was crying for water and he would not be denied. That being said the man had never been a thief. However, the shop keep certainly didn't know that. Backing up, hairy hands raised the creature cried out in guttural basic,

"Pleasa sar, you cannae takka dis from me, I nearly gone, they takka my tings, they burn me shipments th-"

A raised hand was all it took. It seemed the Yuzzum expected a hit or a pointed blaster as he raised his hands higher only to lower them as the bounty hunter said,

"Who are they...and where"

@Foolish Guac

 

[Jorrin Pell]

The bounty hunter's words were punctuated by the entrance closing. The wind was picking up outside, Jorrin had entered the shop to take shelter. His eyes were a blank grey. It took a moment to take in the situation, the prices were higher than usual. The Yuzzum was tense, seemed on guard, and the shopkeeper was relaxed, but also relieved. Jorrin adjusted his rifle's strap.

"Whats with the mark up?"

 

[Jack Graves]

The wind was up. As the doorway rattled the hunter scowled. This wasn't going to plan. It hadn't been for some time. Yet through all the delays and the disappointments there was always the hope of another planet. He had scoured this rock from salty sea to dusty trail and found nothing, no hide nor hair though the beasts that threatened him provided plenty of either. He was ready to leave, but was now mired by the efforts of brigands, cowards, fiends who supped on the lifeblood of commerce. They killed far more than merchants or bankers. They killed families, from underfed infants to sick sisters to brothers waiting for an operation. Jack would not think of them as people when he caught them, they would not spare a thought for him.

As the newcomer entered, Graves recognized him as some kind of alien though the nomenclature would escape him. His time in the facility exposed him to far more aliens than he was previously comfortable with, but while their living conditions were cramped they weren't exactly on speaking terms, especially the muzzled ones. This was a type he'd never seen before though the Yuzzum didn't see them as peculiar though he appeared perturbed to play twenty questions where each question was more of the same,

"They. Takka. My. Tings" each exasperated word an exercise of the futility that haunted this poor creatures day to day. He was a simple shop keep, he probably had a family. Hell, they probably all did.

This one seemed capable and while Jack like many things in solitude a firefight wasn't one of them. Noting the open carry rifle and how it was held, the stoic man expanded on the angered merchants words,

"Groups been raiding his supplies, he was about to tell me the who and where so I could deal with it"

A crossing hands across his own rifle made his intentions as sure as his aim would be. Turning back to the Yuzzum expectantly the creature soon coughed up a holo-pad, on it were the coordinates of where he had lost communication with his caravans. Nodding Jack looked to the merchant coldly,

"If I take care of this, I expect you to take care of me"

A quiet nod came in reply, which was all the bounty hunter needed. Turning without looking to the Firero, he was almost out the unsettled door when he turned expectantly,

"Ya comin?"

 

[Jorrin Pell]

Bacta had also been up in price recently... Jorrin figured there might be a connection. Either way, smugglers don't want their shipments stolen by bandits. It was bad for the rebellion, and bad for the locals.

"Fine by me. I've got a speeder. Your name?" The last question came with a sneer.

 

[Jack Graves]

Jack was bad at that. His name wasn't thrown around that often. Constantly on the move he was most referred to as 'Buddy'. That he was in someones way on a street corner or was a potential customer for some prostitute gave him some kinship with this random person. He wasn't about to give them his name, it would only cheapen it. Wear it out as the saying goes. This on the other hand was different,

"Name's Jack. I have one too"

The sneer wasn't returned as the bounty hunter hadn't seen it. Already out the door and moving to the aforementioned vehicle, he waited to start his engine after he called out the closest coordinates. With that he allowed his speeder to roar to life. Gripping the worn handles like the clutch of a dear friend, Jack thought of the last time such a holding belonged to another person. They were over a ledge, he was so tired. He couldn't let go. And yet.

Riding the speeder wasn't a joy, but it was a much needed repose. Even in the barren desert their were rocks, cacti, and even creatures to avoid. Focusing and shifting the clutch to adjust his speed, the bounty hunter fell into a rhythm much like that somber song. His life...his love...his lady. Who were they truly.

When at last they came to the first coordinates, Jack stopped twenty feet short and got out. Adjusting his armor, he put his helmet on and readied his rifle. Even if the brigands weren't around he could already smell the detritus. To save on fuel the caravan relied on nerf to pull their wagons. Now those same nerf were relied on by flies and carrion. Glad his mask offered him a bit of filtration, Jack waited for his companion before saying,

"Watch the east and south, I've got the north and west"

He hadn't asked the man's name, if he wished to give it he would...but it would only cheapen it. To the bounty hunter, this was just another 'Buddy'.

 

[Jorrin Pell]

Jorrin trailed behind him at a lumbering pace. His speeder also happened to be a truck. Great for hauling supplies, horrible for racing, and unmatched in attracting bandits. The Firrerreo parked behind Jack's speeder, climbing out onto the desert sand.
A look at the now-dead nerf revealed a lot. They tended to have wounds on one side of their body, and only one side of the caravan had scorch marks.

"Check out the caravan, looks like they attacked from that outcropping."

 

[Jack Graves]

Jack looked over then slowly moved towards the spot and found plenty of evidence that the Firrerreo was spot on. From bent vegetation, to shifted rocks, to the dead body of one of their comrades hastily looted and left to bleed out. This was even more sickening due to the fact that the caravan runners at least had the decency to put their nerfs out of their misery in their final moments. Brushing his hand over the fallen raider to give sleep to the dead, the bounty hunter looked over the fellow,

"One of their guys fell over here, not too fresh but he might have something"

Leaving his current comrade to that, Jack continued to check out the scene. Seeing the broken credit boxes and the strewn about goods, the bounty hunter found the whole site peculiar. Nothing was around for miles. There didn't seem to be any chance of cavalry coming. Yet this was all done so...slap shod. Yet for all that the shooting seemed precise, professional and swift.

Not coming to hasty conclusions the man looked over to the alien,

"What ya thinking?"

As he awaited the rebel's thoughts on the matter, Jack looked down at the flies buzzing around the nerf. Buzzing, biting, clawing, hateful of the signs of life left on this long dead beast of burden. What did it ever do to deserve this. He knew the answer, nothing. So little seemed to happen for any reason at all. Nothing was sacred, no man, no beast, no place. It's why Jack cared only for the simple things. The one thing that mattered. Family.

 

[Jorrin Pell]

Jorrin took a knee next to the corpse. Most of what he had was taken. No weapons, no credits, not even a pair of goggles for the sand. That said, they at least knew that it was a regular run, and that the caravan runners were killed, not just held up and robbed. This got him thinking. If the bandits wanted a profit, killing the caravan runners just means there won't be any deliveries until they can hire a new runner, and at that point they'd almost certainly have guards.

"I think they're more interested in causing a disturbance than getting money. A dead caravan driver means no more caravans."

 

[Jack Graves]

Jorrin's words matched Jack's suspicions. This wasn't a usual quick cut and run or a meticulous job. This seemed to be sending a message of some kind, though who it was for was anyone's guess. Stepping away from charred caravan and back to the Firrerreo, the bounty hunter looked over the landscape. He looked for miles and miles. He saw it all then looked back to his companion,

"The caravan knew these people were coming. But check the tracks, it doesn't look like they sped up...in fact it looks..."

Turning back, Jack saw the brakes on the caravan were set down and nodded. Again he couldn't draw conclusions. Getting into his speeder he turned to the xeno,

"Three clicks Northwest, I need to confirm something"

With that he got in his speeder and headed towards the next caravan. Winds whipped up dust against his goggled helm, but he pressed on. Soon the sun would set and the two would find themselves at the mercy of the desert, blazing heat giving way to unrelenting frost. Change is what makes us and breaks us, but for now Jack could at least see what came over the horizon. Not that that helped the caravan drivers.

 

[Jorrin Pell]

Jorrin's brow furrowed. He didn't understand what the bounty hunter was seeing. Still, it was better than nothing. The rebel jumped back into his truck. Pistol in hand, he as trying his damnedest to keep up with Jack's speeder. The dust trail was creating a lot of blind spots though, Jorrin was worried that if shots came from behind it, he might not get a chance to shoot back.

 

[Jack Graves]

For those wondering at home, highway hypnosis is a thing even if you lack a highway and don't conceptually believe in hypnosis. Jack nearly missed the next caravan though that was difficult as it was still smoking as he came upon it. Braking harshly against the blasted sand, he got out pistol in hand and searched the horizon. Again besides the dust in every direction he could see for miles. As the last vestiges of sunlight sank across the endless desert the bounty hunter moved towards the caravan keeping low and using the dying light to give him a picture of this grim scene.

Again dead nerfs, these didn't come to such merciful ends as Jack could see the marks of their final struggles in the dirt. Standing up he looked to see the caravans had all burned to a crisp. Nothing was salvageable and it didn't even look like they tried. Deciding to see if his comrade had picked up on what now seemed obvious to him, the bounty hunter said,

"They didn't try and run when the raiders were coming, but they must have seen them...it means they must have recognized them. Trusted them"

Jack again checked the notebook producing a flashlight as the night had finally fallen and the cold began to set in. Looking over the coordinates the man wondered why these figures were so precise. It didn't seem like anyone but them and the raiders had been out there. So how could the shopkeeper have known?

"Tell me. When the shops around you raise prices due to raids, then the raids cease, do they lower them again or keep them high?"

 

[Jorrin Pell]

"They don't go back to normal if thats what you mean. They do get lower. Somewhat."

Jorrin stepped out of his speeder, replacing his pistol with a rifle. Nightfall worried him, a rifle wasn't gonna keep him from freezing. He wasn't quite convinced that the shopkeepers were organizing the raids though, raising prices meant that few could afford their goods. It wasn't very profitable, then again, if they were good at what they do, they wouldn't be on Savareen.

 

[Jack Graves]

Night's bitter winds treated all as equals. The desert mouse burrowed, the falcon curled in its nest, and man found fire. Fire, life giver, life taker. Fire was fair in its cruelty, which frankly was a better deal than most gave in the outer rim. Clutching his arms around his armor as the chill descended like a falling knife, Jack felt it cut him to the bone. Letting loose a shiver he said,

"Well, I think I've seen enough for one day," Always I, even when surrounded, Jack didn't speak for anyone but himself. He couldn't control anyone but himself and even just that was a tall order. So it was as he got into his speeder and prepared to head back to the shop.

PWAH PING

Jack leaped from his speeder and rushed behind it, it was the only cover for miles. Using his magnifier and compass he tried to track where the bolt had come from. It appeared to be a slug as there was no telltale streak from its point of origin,

"Get down" he called though hopefully his temporary partner had sense enough to get behind that truck of his.

Two more shots cried out in the night to be silenced by their vehicles, now acting as his only protection when they ironically were most needed for escape. Every shot they took could damage the drive shaft, the brakes, force forbid, the fuel tank. Jack couldn't have that.

His rifles already at his side he fired in the general direction of the shots and called out,

"You jokers just made a big mistake. We're not some caravan workers. Were not some harmless nerf. You and your friends are dead!"

There clearly was a lot of hatred hiding within Jack, he had so few moments to let it out that when it saw a crack, it quickly made a hole. That being said it seemed to work out as he heard a,

"See, I telled ya Merv, these ain't the fellars." followed by a shouted, "Y'all alright? We didn't mean to shoot ya...well we did, but we thought you was someone else"

The voice whose femininity was almost completed masked by years of smoking came from a shaking bush that soon revealed a very pregnant woman followed by a Kitonak in overalls and a straw hat.

Not getting out of cover, the bounty hunter looked to the Firrerreo to take point on talking, he was well past his quota for the day.

 

[Jorrin Pell]

Jorrin was leaned up to his truck, and looked across to Jack. He peeked out from his truck, and spotted the strange pair. He weighed the options, but he figured he'd live even if he was shot.

"Keep watch, there's no guarantee they're alone."
The firrerreo stepped out from behind cover, rifle at the ready, but aimed at the ground.

"You two don't look like the bandit type."

 

[Jack Graves]

Jack silently nodded. Darkness denied his view, but movement could be discerned in the wastes and so he waited with his rifle ready to kill whatever intended to kill him first. He watched as the Firrerreo stepped out of cover from the corner of his eye while his focus remained on the background. He was sure his comrade would keep watch on the armed couple so he didn't pay them any mind.

As he remarked on their appearance the woman let out a cough as she replied,

"Course not, we're moisture farmers"

Jack always found moisture farming to be an odd profession. While so many farmers created life from the planets they were upon, these folks essentially built a big humidifier in the desert and watched it go. Necessary perhaps, but oddly technological for such a primitive need.

His thoughts collected themselves as the Kitonak spoke. His words were guttural and punctuated by gaseous emissions, but understandable in the bare bones way he spoke. Doubtless his wife had helped him communicate in basic later in life in the labored way he searched for words.

"We thought you was...uhh...them ones who shot em"

The bounty hunter continued to scan the horizon, being sure to check all sides including their back. He spotted some movement and quickly aimed his sights on it. He was a hair's breath away from firing when he saw the shimmering eyes of some desert beast. As it scampered off, Jack was about to lower his guard when the Kitonak's straw hat happened to be swept up in a sudden gust. As he leaped to grab it a bolt burst through his chest that was no doubt destined for his head. Graves didn't see the collapse as he was already back behind his cover only to pop out and lay down a thicket of cover fire.

Red streaks doubted the black plains as the bounty hunter's breathing quickened and his eyes moved about thinking on how they might have escaped his gaze. As another shot dinged off his speeder, piercing the metal side and nearly taking his head for the effort, Jack knew how.

"It's a sniper, stay low!"

 

[Jorrin Pell]

Jorrin saw the trajectory of the bolts very clearly, and stepped back behind his van, peeking out to confirm the number of enemies. At this juncture: one. Now that he could see the sniper, with close to 6 seconds between the shot being fired and it reaching him, he could easily duck into cover before being hit. When one headed for him, the Firrerro leaned back behind his truck, letting the bolt pass him by.

"He'll never hit us at this range, lets run him out of ammo, then go in with our speeders."

 

[Jack Graves]

Jack liked that plan. Looking out he saw the pregnant woman trying to pull her motionless husband out of the firefight and while it wasn't strategically relevant, the bounty hunter could hardly call himself a good father if he didn't look out for other dads to make sure kids didn't grow up without them. An ironic desire given the circumstances, but Jack couldn't think about that now.

A shot rang out and as it blasted off the side of his speeder, the bounty hunter jumped into action. Sliding into the seat he let the vehicle roar to life. Bursting forward to avoid the followup shot, the determined wanderer zigged and zagged through the desert sand. Turning on himself, he hid within the wake of his own dust.

While this tactic would undoubtedly be useful in lowering the accuracy of the sniper, a fatal blow was already struck as Jack suddenly noticed the rapidly depleting tank. Somehow the potshot had hit something within the engine. Turning and using the last of the fuel the bounty hunter decided on a more direct approach, or rather the choice was made for him. In kind, the sniper responded by shooting at Jack who narrowly avoided the streak of hot death headed toward his arm.

Producing his holdout blaster he fired a few shots then turned abruptly to make one final cloud of dust as the speeder died. Diving off of it he hoped the Firrerro's followup would be a tad more inspired than his own.

 

[Jorrin Pell]

Jorrin had hopped in his van. Normally easily made out, it had cut the lights, and followed in Jacks zig-zagging dust trail. When Jack's speeder crashed, the truck surged past it, possibly surprising the sniper, if he had been distracted by the bounty hunter. Jorrin swerved hard and hit the brakes, causing the hover-vehicle to do a sort of power-slide. He hopped out, used it as cover, and then rushed the sniper. Jorrin shot three quick bolts at the sniper. One was a miss, but despite shooting on the move, the rest were on course to hit.

 

[Jack Graves]

As the truck rushed past, Jack followed as quick as he could behind. Quickly the cover the speeder provided would fade, but it held just long enough for his ally to jump out and rush the sniper. From what Jack could see the sniper had thrown aside his rifle and dove for his own speeder. Shots destined for his stomach and temple slammed harmlessly into the desert dust as their foe revved his engine to soar into the dark of the night.

Not wanting that, the bounty hunter fired his blaster, but to no avail as the speeder shot off to find the night's unknown. Jumping into the Firrerro's speeder, Jack called out,

"Come on, we can come back for mine!"

 

[Jorrin Pell]

Jorrin shot at the sniper while retreating to his truck, and hopped into the drivers seat.

"Its times like these I wish I had a bigger gun."
Growled the Firrerreo, his speeder couldn't keep up with the sniper, but he could at least follow the trail he left.

"Think your blaster can hit at this range? If we can make him dart around, we might be able to keep up."