Ask The One-Eyed Man

[Jon Dromon]

Spoiler: Music OOC

As Amer flashed her badge, Jon wondered what entity she belonged to and fought for as a marine. He just wasn’t that interested and was too far away to read any fine print anyway but at least she seemed to know what she was doing so that was good enough for him.

“Yeah, you two’re interferin’ in a very important mission.”

“That’s right. Important business.”

Jon wasn’t wrong if not quite right and he wasn’t a liar. A bounty hunter always had business and business was always important.

He had not forgotten, just didn’t pay much attention, to the fact that Wolf was the same man from that one ship and they had already met before even stepping foot in this city. The universe was just purposeless in the end and did its best to prove Jon's more nihilistic theories.

There was another Badger there, another Mandalorian of red and black, but Kotii Solus was not only in the past but it was a question that the Duros had asked the Badger and had never been given an answer so whatever.

From Badger to Endyr to this shitty city right beside me. Wow. It really is a circle so round.

Neither bounty hunter had to like each other to work together or remember each other after, however. They just had to make it to this assassin.

“Smooth talkin’.”

“Not bad.”

“What a bunch o’ numbnuts, huh? Any of you fine dinin’ schweine shwags ever met a bigger idiot than those two idiots with I.D.I.O.T. on their badges? Even an elephant couldn'ta missed it.”

Ki’dut pointed into the distance as everybody looked at him as if he was the only purple black Mandalorian in existence.

“You find one person, sir and lady and Duros, and by the holy stars and the dark T-shape of my visor, you show me just one other person within this dang dandy universe that exists atop a hippopotamus, just one person who is an even bigger idiot than those two idiots, and I will grow a third nut.”

Jon decided to leave questions like those to be answered by the likes of Amer.

“Can’t find a single one, bub.” Jon blew smoke into the distance. “But does that say what I think it does?” He pointed up.

A sign on a factory in front of them read ‘Hit Man’. The name of a company named after its Nautolan owner, Hit Man. Coincidence?

“Guessin’ that’s where we’re headin’?” Jon turned to Amer.

@Sicadorito (@Crux)

 

[Amer Dragata]

Spoiler: Music OOC

Amer wasn't much for working undercover, this kind of work didn't come naturally to this marine, but she was beginning to enjoy it.

Though perhaps she shouldn't take any credit for what she did since those two I.D.I.O.T.s were evidently idiots to begin with way before I.D.I.O.T. even existed.

“Guessin’ that’s where we’re headin’?”

“Right.” Amer grinned. Could use some amusement at the minute besides a buckethead. “Cos an assassin is gonna hide inside behind a sign that says ‘Hit Man’ in fine black print. They’d have to be in purple black if they did and never mind the I.D.I.O.T. badge.”

“Ehhhhhhhh I don’t get it.”

“Don't worry, precious. Come on then, you lot. First person who spots a sign that says ‘Vnidia’ gets an eggroll or a cinnamon roll on me. That factory’s where our assassin should be as it should be abandoned.”

At least it should be. Amer thought it better to keep it secret that it could be any of these buildings in reality and there was more than one factory in this universe or city not currently operating.

This assassin never stayed in one spot for too long, and would surely answer Amer in her hidden earpiece to confirm location sooner rather than later. Amer reckoned, at least.

-RING!-

Her phone rang at that very moment but this was a woman who could walk and talk so Amer answered.

"Yea? I mean, yes sir? ... Oh, can't Three Dots do it? ... Three Dots. ... That's the one. ... Oh. Shit. Fair enough. Hope he likes his new outfit. ... Yessir. ... Yes sir. ... Yes, sir. ... Yes. Sir? ... Solid copy. ... Ten-four. ... Dusters are under and good to know about the Gauntlet but sorry Long Pause got stuck in the vent and go get 'em, Commander Shepherd! ... Cos...you're like a shepherd to your team, you know... ... Oh? ... Oh I won't. Sorry, sir. I won't say it again. Yes, sir. Over and out."

-CLICK-

"Wot you lot found out?"

@Sicadorito (@Crux)

 

[Zaia Krodas]

Zaia chuckled as Bone Katana dropped to her knees and shook her hands as if to worship her. As she continued on saying praises, though, she realized that this was in fact not a joke and that the hippo was one hundred percent serious.

“Wait— it wasn’t actually magic, I swear! It was just the knife. See? If you can get the lock from inside like this—” She held up her hand to demonstrate, but she could soon see that it was no use trying to explain it to Bone.

Especially not when there was some stranger here with them. He sounded so calm despite the fact that his box had been opened.

Zaia pulled out her blasters the same time that Zad did, pointing them at the mysterious voice from the metal container. She couldn’t see who it was from, and that she didn’t like. Even if it was potentially just a man without a home, he could be a threat.

“It would be better for you to take that offer,” she warned, but the man didn’t listen. Instead, he began to sing about being hanged and never seeing the sun. Was he crazy?

“Step out now or we’ll shoot.” She didn’t know if they would, but a bluff never hurt.

@Die Shize

 

[Casany Praxor]

Spoiler: Music OOC

Mandalorian, Ranger, Mandalorian Sector Ranger or whatever if Katana was anything like her vodbrother, Ki’dut, besides being an idiot, Draugr was Mandalorian even if her name was Deucalic. Maybe, at the end of the day, that was the way?

As Zad stole one corner of the container, Cas moved just as fast toward the other corner, hugging it with her back. A pistol in either hand, mirroring her vodsister, Krodas, Casany piggybacked off her comment. In the end, they had each other’s back, but who had this guy’s ass and never mind his butt?

“Or just toss a grenade in there and see if you’re smuggling fireworks.”

“I wouldn’t recommend blowing up what’s in here. Terrible, terrible chain reaction of events. Really don’t recommend.”

He stopped playing his violin as if to listen to the wind.

“As for not getting shot period, which would interrupt my meditation, I won’t shoot whoever comes through as long as only one of you do. If too many come through then you might set off an alarm in the dark that makes lasers slice your biceps and triceps off like a knife through walnut pie, aye?”

There was a distinct -ping!- like a coin being flipped from a fist.

“You’re starting to piss me off.”

“Who are you, my lady?”

“Draugr.”

“Mm. Mandalorian.”

“Deucalian, idiot.”

“Your accent isn't.”

“My vodmother had a Huttese Ithorian southern elephant's elevator accent from what I remember.”

“Oh?”

“What even…”

“Offer stands. You wanna talk without setting something off, we do it face to face, and someone comes inside but only one. This is the way, as they say...whatever the hell they say these days.”

“Who’s they?”

“And I don’t like the way the Deucalala talks to pirates.”

He played his violin.

"So she ain't comin' in."

@Sicadorito (@Zaia Krodas)

 

[Zad Ruzed]

Spoiler: Music OOC

Veteran Ranger aside, there was no knowing how a situation like this might play out. Either the guy in this container was bluffin’ or he wasn’t but Zad could only think so far ahead, see so far into darkness.

What he knew is that this guy, this pirate, despite his confidence, wasn’t coming out however he wanted as much as Team Ruzed might be going in to fetch him. Butcha shoulda takin’ the Mandalorian’s other offer, partner.

Zad hated it when shit got complicated. He didn’t want to play with a potentially boobytrapped pirate’s haven especially since he didn’t know if this was the right pirate to begin with. If he had any information besides how to stroke his violin, was it even worth it?

“Why should we even believe you?” The Ranger begged the question. “I met more than one pirate in my life and can’t say I met many that I liked.”

“Oh?”

“Nope. Don’t trust ‘em. Why should I? Reckon you’re bluffin’. Reckon you got nothin’ in there but cookie crumbs and dirt ‘n’ dust.”

“Those are called insults. Ranger, right?”

“Ruzed. Zad Ruzed.”

And he didn't flash that gorram badge.

“Lookin’ for the Badger, aye?”

“Yeap— Wait, you know his location?”

“Yeeeeaaaahhhh you ain’t comin’ in.”

He played his violin.

@Sicadorito (@Zaia Krodas)

 

[Crux]

Ki’dut, Di’kut, Crux was almost forgetting what the hippo’s name was. His own intelligence was slipping out of his brain just from listening to him talk. So after he was done talking about growing a third nut, the bounty hunter decided to simply eye the “Hit Man” factory and pretend like he hadn’t heard a thing.

“Seems like a good idea,” he added to show that he had definitely been paying attention to the conversation, only to be shot down immediately by Amer. Oh. Shoulda thought of that.

“‘Kay. Vnidia it is.” To make himself useful and perhaps encouraged a little by the prospect of free food, Crux made his way to the front of the group to get that slight edge of seeing everything first. Behind her, he could hear her getting on a call. Leaving us to do the hard work again.

That was when he saw it. Vnidia. It wasn’t a sign, but some kind of painted logo on a building right by them. He stopped in his tracks, turned around, crossed his arms, and waited for Amer to finish before he pointed up to it.

“There,” he answered, “Vnidia.” Hopefully she was right that it was abandoned.

@Die Shize

 

[The Storyteller]

Spoiler: Music OOC

[“Hey, Wolf!”]

A masculine if masked and modulated voice would enter the wolf’s helm, or wherever the hunter kept his comlink, for the Mandalorian who hailed him kept an integrated comlink within his helmet.

[“Don’t turn. It’s Badger.”]

They may of course already have each other’s numbers, so to speak, however this was not due to being drinking buddies, never mind best friends. Neither the wolf nor the badger knew each other except, in a sense, one knew more than the other, whatever that meant.

[“Don’t talk. Just walk.”]

The voice spoke the moment Amer Dragata turned to speak to Sergeant Ki’dut, with Jon Dromon busy playing in an alley. However, look though the looks-tough wolf might, he would not find the speaker in sight, whether this guy had eyes on the wolf or not.

[“Into Vnidia. I’ll explain on the way.”]

Or maybe the Badger did anyway.

[“I don’t trust the Duros. Bad banana, that bantha. I don’t trust Imperial marines either. Or purple black Mando Hippos for that matter. As for you, well, you seem like a straight shooter, and I know a little bit about what happened during a Badger’s breakout.”]

That might help Wolf understand that this information broker, this shadow broker, this agent of the Daggers, this red-and-black Mandalorian, was indeed the Badger.

Or maybe he was just some guy who served in the ship as a janitor at the time.

[“Once you get to the front entrance, don’t look back. You’ll hear a beep, a boop, door will open sesame, you’ll go through. You'll find an empty waiting room with a maroon receptionist desk. Look for a golden pen and an arguably charcoal coffee cup. Should be somewhere on the desk and, if not, check underneath or the corners of the room, capisce?”]

And if those words weren’t doing the Badger any favors then maybe these were:

[“Do it if you want a payday better than whatever you get paid. I’m not talkin’ just credits. I’m talkin’ mandokar."] There was a pause but it wasn’t so long. ["I am talking about beskar.”]

And for a Mandalorian to be excited about beskar, especially a Mando with resources like the Badger, meant it had to be a good bit of beskar…surely?

Liar or otherwise, his occupation was about intelligence as much as strength, for the Badger was Mandalorian, as was the man behind the helmet.

["The fire rises."]

The one-eyed man.

["I shall rise with it."]

@Sicadorito (@Crux)

 

[Jon Dromon]

Spoiler: Music OOC

Vnidia. Now there was another company name for Jon Dromon to not have any clue about it. He knew mainly just those companies who wanted to pay him, present company notwithstanding.

He also didn’t know much about cinnamon rolls, but one place had the best egg noodles and egg rolls he had ever had, the best ramen he’d ever tasted, and he intended on going back some day. It sure as shit wasn’t in this city which sure as chit wouldn’t be his grave.

Software company. According to the smartphone in Jon’s hand. Surely their factory had coordinates he could plug in so they’d have a map? Unless it had since already been erased if it was just that abandoned.

Amer’s phone rang as Jon walked in thought, and Wolf went on ahead, then Jon’s phone rang so he answered it, stepping into an alley for a bit of privacy.

“What is it?”
[“What do a naked man and a Yautkan have in common?”]
“They both like skin?”
[“They were both seen in separate establishments around the same time asking the same question: Where is the Sector Ranger? Naked man in The Gabagool. Yautkan at Farms & Baron. Asking for a Sector Ranger. Kymmmmmm. Don’t you have a Sector Ranger in your team looking for the Badger so he can find the Daggers? I did some digging and it turns out the Daggers have been getting hit by a Sector Ranger. Turns out the Daggers, a Yautkan and those dumbass Hippos have a...connection...and that assassin you’re after has also been targeting the Daggers in a crime vendetta. Kyuhuh.”]
“Sounds complicated.”
[“Sounds like the right kind of information if you know the right kinds of questions and have the right kinds of connections so pieces of pie might make fine additions to my…collection…”]
Vacant expression.
[“Whoever this Ranger is, dimsum dumscum, he wants the Daggers, my competition, and what do they say about assassins again? Kyeh.”]
“...”
[“You get the message. KYEK.”]

-CLICK-

“Bitch.”

Distracted with that conversation, Jon had been too busy staring at the alley wall opposite his entrance, no sight on the wolverine di’kut, but the marine Amer and Sergeant Di’kut were in the distance.

If Jon Dromon was the screaming type, he might have screamed just then, but he wasn’t so he didn’t. He just looked in time to see a cloaked figure on the railing, suddenly coming to life, suddenly springing something at him, to either take his eye or take his life, though most likely both at the same time.

@Sicadorito (@Crux)

 

[Amer Dragata]

Spoiler: Music OOC (Recurring)

As the Duros bounty hunter went away to talk on his own phone, that left the Imp marine with the Human bounty hunter.

Wolf. Haircut beneath his helmet. Same difference. Who was the man behind the name? Somebody who found their quarry first, at least.

“Sorry,” the dragoon said to the wolf who stood closer to the entrance of the Vnidia building. “I’m all out of cinnamon rolls and the egg rolls are waitin’ with the assassin so let’s get to it, cap'n badass.”

An innocent expression. Difficult to tell if she's being genuine or sarcastic.

“Captain Cupcake.”

Ki’dut was becoming such a gorram distraction.

“Best brand of cinnamon rolls this side of the galactic bakery or they don’t call me a shady pastry, Sister Amer, and I don't have beskar on my chest!”
He saluted. To a bench.

Ki’dut scratched his visor as if to scratch an itch on his face. He stopped doing it a moment later so Amer could only assume it had actually worked. Impressive.

“Or was it pumpkin? Lemon? S’mores? Maybe…orrrr peanut butter jelly?”

“Why are you like this?”

He pinched his helmeted chin.

“Well…why do they say the signet of a hippo is for idiots and elephants and that Kidut rhymes with Di’kut?”

“Right..."

“Nope. I draw the line at riots given I’m a Sector Ranger, Sister Amer.”

“Wot?”

“You said that’s a trick question. Riot?”

“She said right.”

“I know she said riot right.”

“No, no. She said that’s a trick question, right?”

“Sounded like riot to me maybe.”

“Yea. It’s my accent, all right?”

Amer looked left, looked right, suddenly realized there were two of them. Another purple black Mandalorian appeared from out of nowhere.

“You ever wonder…” This other hippo spoke as he breathed smoke from behind his visor, clouding its darkness. “...What it feels like to be inside a cinnamon roll? A birthday cake? A potato? A fry?” He looked at his fingers and the cigarette between them, as if his hand might have a story, a song to tell him, a poem. “An onion ring…maybe?”

“Er…no…”

As soon as she spoke, Amer caught from the corner of her eye movement in the alley, but it wasn’t the Duros. It was something above his head. A shape. A cloaked shape.

“What the kriff?”

Before she knew it, Amer darted toward the alley, ignoring the two Mandalorians exchanging greetings behind her.

She tore for whatever she had assessed as a threat, became a weapon, and lashed at her opponent the moment it attacked Jon Dromon.

Ignoring the exchanges of names behind her as officers say ‘Lieutenant’ to one another before they fade away behind her, behind Amer, at the moment that nothing else matters.

“Ki’dut.”

“Kayden.”

@Sicadorito (@Crux)

 

[Zaia Krodas]

For someone whose death would cause a terrible, terrible chain reaction of events, the man certainly had an interesting choice of a dwelling. Zaia kept her blasters level, knowing that with her position directly in front of the container she would likely be the first one he would target. But it didn’t seem like he had any intention of coming out at all.

Quite the opposite, in fact. He wanted one of them to go in. And only one because there were apparently lasers. Great. Zaia listened as Casany became the first to be denied entry because he didn’t like the way she spoke to pirates. Then Zad because he wanted to know about the Badger.

That left only her or Bone. And Zaia certainly wasn’t about to let the hippo go in— Katana would probably end up setting off the lasers and accidentally vaporizing both herself and the mystery pirate in there. In fact, Zaia wasn’t even sure she wouldn’t end up doing that herself. But what other option was there?

“I guess it’s just me, then.” Deciding not to say anything else lest the man deny her too, Zaia carefully holstered her blasters and made her way to the container. Peering inside, she would turn around one more time to look at her friends.

“Watch my back,” she reminded them, already knowing that they would. Then she climbed in.

@Die Shize

 

[Sag'etare Baracco]

Spoiler: Music IC

“Over here,” a voice would beckon amid a violin gently played with. From shadows, from the void, where the artificial sunlight of this city did not illuminate the inside of the container.

At whose corners stood the Sector Ranger, Zad Ruzed, and the Deucalala Draugr Whatever, and the other Mandalorian, Bone Katana.

What was most important at the moment was that one guy had his third eye on all four of them and never mind his lack of an eyepatch or the Force; he was a different kind of one-eyed man.

He was a pirate.

The closer she approached, whatever her intention, she would find no liar within him. He did not shoot her, as he promised.

Maybe she had a flashlight. If she did, she would see the pirate’s face illuminated the next moment, but from his position the others outside the container wouldn’t.

“Captain Sage’tare Baracco of the Endless Song,” the Zabrak greeted. He sat in a corner on the floor, boots crossed, tan jacket, violin on his lap, but the music was coming from a music player, not his hands. “You may call me Sage. What’s your name?”

@Sicadorito (@Zaia Krodas)

 

[Crux]

[“Hey, Wolf!”]

Wha— Crux was about to turn around to see who had called him before that voice in his head told him not to. It took him a moment to process what it said next. The Badger? After all the time and effort he’d spent searching for him, now it was revealed that he could have just called him the entire time?

Despite his scowl, Crux walked, listening to the little voice in his helmet. If it really was the Badger, which he was fairly certain it was given that he seemed to know so much about him, he didn’t want to lose his pay yet again. So he would put up with this for now.

How had the Badger known that he was with hippos, though? Crux felt like he was being watched. If this was all some kind of twisted game… it was too late to quit now.

Without waiting for the others, Crux would make his way towards Vnidia, scanning the area for any threats as he walked. Opening the front door, he made his way to the front desk as the little voice requested. Golden pen and coffee cup— there they were. Crux went behind it, grabbed both as the voice went on about beskar. That made him lick his lips. The smell of money. Delicious to the Wolf.

Rising fires and the Badger rising with it, however, Crux didn’t give a kark about.

“Well? What’s next?” he asked. Then he paused. Could the Badger even hear him?

@Die Shize

 

[Zaia Krodas]

Zaia flipped on the flashlight on her helmet before she looked around the container. She stopped when the light reached the face of a Zabrak, and she quickly flicked it off when she saw that it was going directly into his eyes.

Sorry, she almost said out loud, but then remembered that this was a pirate they were dealing with and not some random being who just happened to live in a box. Zaia noticed the violin that sat on his lap and the speaker next to him where the music was really coming from. What could possibly be the point of that?

He introduced himself as Sage, a mellow name considering this situation he’d put them all in.

“Sage.” The Mandalorian gave him a nod of greeting as she shifted into a more comfortable position some distance away from him. “I’m Zaia.” She looked at the music player that was playing some kind of classical music. “Interesting choice.” Then she looked up at his face, met his gaze through her visor.

“Who are you?” Zaia asked, and both of them knew that she did not mean his name. “And why are you here?”

@Die Shize

 

[The Storyteller]

The Badger

Spoiler: Music OOC

“Well? What’s next?”

There was a pause.

“Take the pen. Leave the cup. Was wondering where it was but glad somebody found it and will get it later okay listen up.”

There was a pause.

“Approach the door dead ahead of you on your left. No, your other left. Open it. I'll wait.”

There was a wait.

“Press the ‘Call Elevator’ button beside you and we’ll see what happens.”

-CLICK-

It was the sound of the Badger hanging up on the Wolf, but that’s not what happened. Instead, it was the same sound of a door opening up.

“Get in close the door and take the elevator to the top floor.”

But it wouldn’t budge.

“Okay. So. It’s broken. Scratch that. New plan. Take the stairway, door on your left, no, your right, to the basement but watch out for droids. They get in there sometimes and don’t like noise and you might be forced to take a detour.”

The Badger waited, watched, listened. He couldn’t see everything from his position, like a flashlight in darkness, but he knew he had the cards, in between meetings with kings and kingpins in Gravenell City.

After all, there was a reason he had the ability to suddenly enter Crux’s helmet. Whether or not the Wolf remembered, Jon had already attempted to call the Badger but he never really picked up.

Those two were bounty hunters. This man and Mandalorian, however, was an information broker, and a middleman for the Daggers.

“Feel free to tell me a story on the way, vodka, just don’t delay or make me wait if you wanna get paid.”

There was a pause.

"You might be a wolf but the Badger ain't a dog who waits on you if you knew what I knew."

Information, at the end of the day, was something the one-eyed man had discovered to be just as precious as credits, just as solid as the beskar in a Mandalorian's armor, as prized as the name of his clan, red as blood and fire, if gold as sunlight.

He was no dog, he was no wolf, no vornskr, no mythosaur, no hippo, but something of a myth within the elements of Gravenell City, a Mandalorian whose existence wasn't witnessed unless within the depths of this grave and this hell. He was no Draugr, though he was also a ghost.

However, his clan, whether it existed, whether it was coincidence given there were only so many color combinations out there per Mando 'gam, whether he was of Solus, some random Mandalorian man posing as one, or got stuck with a moniker cast on him by others, was a different breed. He was a different beast.

A masked Mandalorian man who operated in the shadows, brokered with the Daggers.

Who knew that, as precious as information was, disinformation was priceless, like treasure to a pirate.

He was the shadow broker.

The Badger

@Sicadorito (@Crux)

 

[Crux]

The pen but not the cup. Looking at the two objects in his hands, Crux put down the cup and put the pen in his pocket. Door on the left. He paused before he moved. There were two doors. How would the Badger know which door it was if he wasn’t watching him? He moved to his right instead, only to hear a correction from the voice in his helmet.

He sees me. That was the only plausible explanation. Crux didn’t like it, but he would keep it in mind.

This time at the correct door, Crux pressed the elevator button. He stepped inside as soon as the door closed, but the door never closed and the elevator never moved. If he hadn’t known about the elevator or the cup, it meant the Badger hadn’t been here for a while. Crux wondered just how long.

He headed for the stairs, noting the potential for encountering droids ahead. As he made his way down, he didn’t speak until the Badger mentioned a story. Crux furrowed his brow at that. He was never one to delay, and if the Badger knew so much he should have known that.

“‘Kay,” said Crux. “Once upon a time, there was a Groundhog who forgot to pay the Wolf. The Groundhog was dead the next day, and the Wolf got his credits. The end.” If the broker knew what was good for him, he would pay him after this was all over.

Fortunately there were no droids on the stairwell, and soon enough Crux was at the bottom, where a sign read “Basement”. It was only when he peered into the glass that he saw what the Badger had been talking about.

“How many droids are there s’pposed to be again?”

@Die Shize

 

[Sag'etare Baracco]

Spoiler: Music IC

Zaia… If there was a planet somewhere out there named Zaia, well, here was one pirate who just might like to explore it, like an island in an ocean, for it was a glorious name, and hers was a gorgeous face. Helmet, anyway.

“Interesting choice.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Who are you? And why are you here?”

“I am a pirate,” his tone was casual if firm as he gave his identity. Not his name, but who he was; the man beneath the surface of his face—if a pirate's version of what one was could be trusted, that was. "How I got here, however…”

He flipped a coin, confident that his guest’s friends wouldn’t so easily hear the metallic ping at the container's entrance, or the conversation of a pirate and a Mandalorian amid the music with its purpose proven.

The silver-gold coin, that circle so round, landed in his hand but he didn’t lift it, just cocked his brow with indifference.

“I’ve had bad experiences with Rangers and Deucalians. Mandalorians? Hit or miss. I knew a Mandalorian pirate who I liked as much as didn’t. Kinda like every bloody pirate, to be honest.”

They either got along or they didn’t.

“Scum, the galaxy calls us, but know what’s worse than a pirate?”

She was positioned comfortably as he comfortably sat in a corner, hand moving to turn on a lantern that glowed golden on the floor, casting shadows of a Zabrak man with horns.

“Pirate hunters. Bounty hunters of the cosmos. Whether with a license like a privateer with a marque, they are a pitiless pest. That’s why I’m here, Madam Mandalorian. Because of a privateer. I’m in this suspiciously quaint container because I have been captured by a hunter while doing a job for the Badger.”

The Mandalorian’s Ranger and Deucalian also probably wouldn’t hear the pirate laugh at that.

“And here I am, a...formerly...imprisoned pirate with a violin in my lap and two good hands.”

@Sicadorito (@Zaia Krodas)

 

[The Storyteller]

The Badger​

“Once upon a time, there was a Groundhog who forgot to pay the Wolf. The Groundhog was dead the next day, and the Wolf got his credits. The end.”

“You ask me, a Groundhog shoulda been born a Badger, then the Wolf would be the one on the ground for the dogs to eat.”

Fast forward to no droids, only a boring story and a wolf whose red black armor makes the badger’s red black armor look like royalty.

“How many droids are there s’pposed to be again?”

“Yes.”

Unfortunately the extent of the Badger’s surveillance at the moment was limited as much as an abandoned building’s systems in spite of his resources and position.

He watched, he listened, but he did not see or hear everything, he was not omniscient.

“Either you shoot through them and settle a wager that you’re quicker than the Ranger, sneak past them, find a computer to shut them down, talk them to death, or use the Force, because upstairs to the top floor is blocked off. Choice is yours. Just don’t make me wait.”

He waited.

@Sicadorito (@Crux)

 

[Zaia Krodas]

A pirate living in a box was a new one, and Zaia’s brow raised slightly beneath her helmet as he told his story. She wasn’t surprised that he was being hunted— that was the price for living in spite of the law. However, she almost felt a little sorry for him that he was confined to this place. Despite his questionable occupation, Sage didn’t seem like a bad man.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Zaia responded truthfully. However, even if he had her sympathies on being trapped in a box, she was here for other things. “What kind of job were you doing for the Badger? How come this privateer wanted you captured?” She had a feeling that it wasn’t simply because he was a pirate. And who was this privateer?

The more she learned about the Badger, the more connected this all seemed to be. Zaia couldn’t help wondering what her role was in all this. Maybe Sage was like her, in some twisted way. Maybe they were both pawns caught up in some larger scheme, something that neither of them truly understood. Like brokers for the broker. Someone in between.

The music seemed more ominous the longer it played.

@Die Shize

 

[Crux]

“Yes?” This Badger could go kriff himself. However, apparently Crux didn’t have any other options but to go through the droids somehow, so that was the route he took. He opened the door.

Nothing happened at first. All the droids were busy working on who knows what, and none of them turned to see who had entered through the door. That was the good thing about these mason and construction droids— they didn’t need to know anything beyond what they were programmed to build. Unfortunately, the two security droids flanking the doorway did.

“Unauthorized entry.” They carried blasters, but Crux ripped one out of the hands of one and used it to shoot the other in the neck. Then he kicked the first when it reached for its sword instead, sending it staggering back before he plugged a bolt into its face. Too easy.

However, now the other droids in the room had looked up, and their photoreceptors were all locked onto him. Kark. They began shuffling over, their wrenches and hammers still in their grips.

Crux rushed over to the nearest computer station, got down behind the desk in case someone picked up the security droids’ blasters, and quickly used the computer spike in his armor to get through the initial layer of security. From there, he would glance up toward the droids and then back to the screen, scanning it for anything that might read “droid”.

Fortunately, he found the shutoff switch just in time. The droids slumped down just about a metric or two behind him, and Crux let out a sigh of relief.

“Okay, Badger. I’m in.” He looked around. “What am I doin’ here?”

@Die Shize

 

[Sag'etare Baracco]

Spoiler: Music IC (Recurring)

All things considered, there were worse ways to be imprisoned and worse prisons. At least in this container the pirate prisoner had a violin to play with.
Unless he was a liar to begin with given he is a pirate.
As for what might be hidden within or beneath the violin, if anything, that was another matter.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Sympathy given sincerely? Sounded like it at least.

“Eh, it happens.”

All too often. A pirate knew as much about chasing ships as he knew about getting chased by ships.

“What kind of job were you doing for the Badger? How come this privateer wanted you captured?”

“Sister, a few privateers want me captured as much as certain law enforcement agencies, nerfherder free grazing communities and disgruntled husbands. This one woman in question is a former pirate and a relentless bounty hunter in profession. She’s trouble.”

He lifted his hand, angled in such a way that the Mandalorian couldn’t see past it, noted which side the coin landed, and began to roll it across his knuckles.

“She’s in this for the credits on my head or to have my head cut off in revenge. Who knows with women? No offense intended.” He shrugged. “As for my mission, I was to intercept a shipment for the Badger.” Tilted his head. “To the Daggers.” Scratched it. “Or is it from the Daggers to the Badger?”

“How’s it goin’ in there?”

Sage heard the Ranger’s voice but neither man could see each other and the pirate only had eyes for this Mandalorian woman at the moment, never mind other women.

“So?” He flipped his coin into his fist. “How’s it goin’, Zaia?” Looked left, looked right, as if he could see outside the corners of this container. "And how did you get past the assassin?"

"I got a bad feeling about this."

"Is that the right pirate? He should look like a pirate. A one-eyed man with an eye patch. Cartoony, maybe. But some pirates also look like real life guys with two eyes. Some with mustaches. Even others with goggled eyes like my Uncle Steven!"

"Who's the idiot?"

@Sicadorito (@Zaia Krodas)