#disaster boy

Once they reached the palace, Verin took the lead as the only one who had ever been there before. The main room boasted the expected sticky floor and slouched drunkards. An odd mixture of decadent fabrics and plush furniture combined with the sort of depravity that made his skin crawl. 

Verin didn’t linger, at least, but turned down the left corridor and up a flight of stairs. They moved unhindered until deep within the palace. Caldus thought that was a serious oversight in security. They were two floors up before running into their first checkpoint. Caldus wondered how big this palace was, and where the Hutt who owned it lived.

”State your business.” The Gammorrean grunted, leaning around to see the hutball game on the screen behind them.

Verin held his datapad in front of its face. Caldus realized he wasn’t sure if the creature in front of him was male or female. The guard blinked at the small screen, pretended it could read, then waved them on. 

Caldus caught a glimpse of Verin’s ticket as he tucked it away. A Pleasure Pass valued at nearly four thousand credits. For all her sneering about the business, Mako managed to snag them a top class entry. 

After counting off the rooms, Verin stopped and knocked twice, paused, then added a third before tapping his datapad against the locking mechanism. Caldus heard movement on the other side and held his arm out in front of Altan to stop the younger man from following. The resulting clang that had Verin stumbling backward from the room he’d entered brought Caldus unending satisfaction.

”Shab Fyn’ika,” Verin huffed from where he sat in the middle of the hallway. “Good thing my buc’ye was still on.”

The woman in question stormed from the room with a heavy bottle raised above her head. She stopped, dark brows raised. “Verin? What the hell are you doing here?” Deep blue found Caldus and Altan, her head tipping back. “And who are these beasts?”

A snarl slipped free from Caldus before he realized she was remarking on their size rather than their species. He still wore his helmet, and Altan was half hidden behind him so she couldn’t have made him for a Togruta yet. Caldus swallowed his retort and clamped his lips shut. 

“We’re here to rescue you.” Verin shoved up from the floor without the aid of those standing around him. “Didn’t you hear me knock?”

Fynta lowered her weapon, then jerked her head for them to move into the room. Verin harrumphed his way inside, while Caldus and Altan followed at a more respectful distance. He wasn’t sure that Fynta could reach his head without aid, but the parts she could reach he’d prefer to keep unassaulted. 

Once the door snapped shut, Fynta dropped the bottle on an overstuffed chair and set about drying her hair. It was only then that Caldus realized she wore little more than a sports bra and shorts. She had the kind of brown skin Caldus remembered seeing on workers who spent their lives in the sun. Her black hair was a matted mess of wet tangles that she attacked with a brush as if it were her nemesis. Caldus also noted that there was indeed a target tattoo surrounding a nasty bruise on her right eye. 

Upon closer inspection, Caldus could pick out the similarities between the Wolfe siblings, though Verin’s coloring was lighter all around. They shared those odd, ocean deep eyes, nose, and both looked to be well muscled and stocky. Caldus couldn’t keep his eyes from straying to the impressive set of abs emphasized by how little she wore. To say nothing of the definition of her thighs and arms. Then, he noticed the cybernetic that replaced her left leg from the knee down and glanced at his brother. Unsurprisingly, Altan’s gaze had locked on that. Caldus doubted the Togruta had even noticed the woman’s face.

“They took my comm,” Fynta huffed, waving the hairbrush now clogged with black strands at her brother. “I was going to get it from Cin tonight so I could let—our contact know that we move tomorrow.”

”Speaking of my lovely wife, where is she?” Verin removed his helmet and leaned a hip on the edge of the table, watching his sister with a warmth that made Caldus realize how much fear the man had bottled up on their trip here. It annoyed Caldus to find common ground with the hunter, but he had to admire Verin's poise. If Altan were in this situation, Caldus would be beside himself with—he shook his head, it didn’t bear consideration.

Still, Caldus couldn’t help but wonder if that’s what it meant to be an adult. He was heading towards his mid-twenties and still felt the need to ask Valk if he could go out for drinks with the guys. Even on this trip, he’d taken a backseat and let Verin make the decisions because he seemed to know what he was doing. Would that be Caldus one day? Would he wake up and find the galaxy made sense?

“She’ll be here soon,” Fynta answered, finally giving up on her hair and tossing the brush in the same direction as her improvised weapon. “She’s getting me some untainted food.” 

As if summoned, another set of coded knocks echoed from the door. Fynta shooed her brother out of her way and tapped the latch button to admit Cinlat. Verin rushed forward to take the bags from the tiny figure who entered behind him. 

Somehow, Caldus had envisioned the famed bounty hunter to be a giant. The larger than life winner of the Great Hunt some decade or so ago. This woman in the red and black beskar’gam didn’t even reach his chest. 

After pressing his forehead to his wife’s helmet, Verin dropped the bags on the table and dug through them. “Have they tried to drug you?”

”Succeeded once,” Cinlat answered, her voice deep and robotic through the helmet speakers. “I found her hunched over the toilet with half her hand down her throat and a fever that would have killed anyone with more brain cells."

Fynta shrugged and snagged a wrapped sandwich from her brother. “Still not sure what that was. It passed all the tests.”

Cinlat made a noise that Caldus couldn’t decipher and turned towards him. “You must be Beroya’s boys.”

Caldus dipped his head out of respect, but he wasn’t ready to join the conversation yet. There was a lot to process in this room. The woman they were joining forces sounded…chaotic. Caldus needed a moment to take it all in and decide if this contract was worth the risks if this was the normal life Fynta led.

Then again, Cinlat and Verin were revered. Even Fynta had a reputation that Mando’ade whispered about. Apart from being a massive brute who could track game, Caldus had no such clout. He would never get any either unless he took risks. Fynta seemed to attract plenty of those.

 Verin invaded his sister's personal space, trying to examine the blackened eye. She batted him away, even going so far as to plant her natural foot in his stomach and shove. The man folded his arms and frowned. “What happened?”

“Zigged when I should have zagged.” When Verin’s frown deepened, Fynta rolled her eyes like the petulant little sister she’d probably been. “It’s the Pits, di’kut, what do you think happened?”

When Verin only huffed in response, Fynta went back to the bag for seconds. “We’ll call it a lesson learned.” 

Caldus heard Altan’s stomach rumble and made a mental note to find something to eat when they were done here. Fynta beat him to it, holding out a wrapped skewer towards the Togruta. “It’s probably a rodent. Helps not to sniff it before you eat.” 

To Caldus’s surprise, Altan accepted, and the skewer vanished into the depths of his hood. Fynta made no remark on the odd behavior, but continued her story while crumpling up the empty bag. “Tomorrow is the auction fight. Once I win, I’ll be taken to the platform where our source says the kids are.”

”You’re sure about this?” Verin’s brows pulled together, a strange expression crossing his face. Now that he was back with his wife and sister, the easy going facade that he’d presented to everyone at the enclave slipped.

For his part, Caldus’s attention perked up at the mention of auctioning off kids. Even Altan had gone completely still, the half eaten skewer dangling from his fingers. 

”I confirmed it when I got here.” Cinlat leaned against Verin’s side, and he slid an arm around her. “It’s the only reason I’m still here.”

Fynta gestured at the two hunters with the remains of her sandwich. “Once I figure out where they are being kept, we can figure out how to get them off world.”

”Can our Friend help out,” Verin asked his wife, before settling his glare on Fynta. “Since it’s kind of her fault we’re in this situation in the first place. She should’ve known better than to give half baked intel to Fynta.” 

Cinlat’s helmet angled as well, and Caldus felt like he was missing an entire portion of this conversation. Fynta threw her hands up, crumpling the food wrapper in the process. “We would've taken the job eventually. I just did the heavy lifting.”

An audible sigh wheezed through Cinlat’s speakers, and Caldus resisted the urge to smirk. “Regardless,” the hunter began. “Yes, I have contacts. Now, we just need to get into the fights so we can offer backup.”

”About that.” Verin gestured at Altan with the hand not hugging his wife close. “It seems our boy here is good at more than sharpshooting.”

At the sudden shift of attention, Altan slinked deeper into his hood. He didn’t edge behind Caldus, though. Clearly, the Togruta wanted to stand alone, he just didn’t want to be perceived while doing so. Caldus flexed his fingers to resist stepping in front of his brother.

”He has a little friend on planet,” Verin continued as if he didn’t notice Altan’s discomfort. That irritated Caldus, though he swallowed his grumblings. “She got us in here tonight and a VIP box next to an exit.”

”Smart girl,” Cinlat commented. 

An alert chimed on Verin’s datapad, a warning that his time with the champion was at an end. The man stood and strode across the room to where his sister leaned against her desk. “We’ll find a way to communicate with you during the fight. Whatever happens, roll with it.” 

“I always do,” the woman grinned back. 

Verin rolled his eyes, then wrapped one hand around Fynta’s neck and bumped their foreheads. “Stay out of trouble until then.”

Fynta chuckled and shoved him away. “Ori’pel.”

With a snort, Verin waved for everyone to head out. Caldus waited until Cinlat was between him and Verin before following, but paused when he realized that Altan hadn’t moved. The Togruta reached up and lowered his hood, dipping his head. “It was nice meeting you.”

”Likewise,” Fynta beamed, surprising Altan into a smile of his own. Then, he covered himself with the hood again and scurried after Verin and Cinlat.

Caldus stared at the woman for a moment longer. Fynta met his visor’s gaze easily. “What’s up, Cabur?” He frowned at the word. Caldus had been with Valk and Jos for seven years. He spoke Mando’a fluently, but word usage varied from clan to clan.

“Good luck, tomorrow.” Caldus ducked through the door before Fynta could answer, straightening on the other side. “Where to now?”

”I’d like to talk to Mako again,” Altan chimed, then more forcefully. “I think she might be able to help us with our communication issue with Fynta.”

”Then that’s where we go.” Cinlat’s voice rasped through the speakers, and Caldus couldn’t help but wonder what she looked and sounded like beneath the armour. Clearly, she used the armour to hide her identity. It wasn’t unheard of, but becoming more rare. Even the official Hunt records only ever pictured the woman inside a completely sealed set of beskar’gam. 

The group walked in silence through the palace, just four Mandalorians looking for a good time. Once outside, Cinlat paused, her vizor tilting up at Caldus, then over to Altan. He saw the moment his claws caught her attention. 

“You Cathar?” The fact that she’d figured it out so quickly had Caldus nodding in agreement before he could stop himself. When she looked over at Altan, her next statement carried more weight. “I heard Jos and Valk had taken in a couple of alien boys, but that is unexpected.” 

Caldus remained silent, so Verin answered. “We aren’t allowed to ask.”

“It was better than being an Imperial slave,” Caldus answered, mostly to spite Verin. While the man had been nothing but friendly, he rubbed Caldus the wrong way.

”That’s fair,” Cinlat answered and didn’t ask for more. The tension in Caldus’s shoulders relaxed a modicum that she didn’t expect the full story from him. 

As they walked, Caldus glanced at his brother every so often, noting that he’d been buried in his datapad since they left. Finally, Altan took up position on the opposite side of Verin, placing both hunters between the brothers. “You’ve done this often. Freed slaves.” It wasn’t a question that required an answer, but Cinlat gave a sharp nod of her helmet.

To his knowledge, Caldus was the only slave freed by Mandalorians. They were allied with the Empire, where owning other beings was not only legal, but a sign of status. Seeing others from a different clan doing so caused an unwelcome bloom of hope in him. Caldus crushed it immediately and changed the subject. “What do we do for the rest of the night?” 

Verin took the lead as they crossed the threshold into the noisy cantina. Weaving through the back hallways with Cinlat and Altan falling behind and Caldus slumping into the rear. “We plan,” Verin answered while looking over his shoulder. Whatever else he might have added turned into a strangled yelp when the hum of an energy blade hovered at his throat. 

Caldus pulled his blaster at the same time as Cinlat and Altan. He might not enjoy Verin’s company, but he’d be damned if the man got himself killed on his watch. A treacherous voice warned that if Fynta was as careless as her brother, then the mission was already a failure. Caldus crushed that thought too. He needed this to work. 

The woman who pinned Verin against the wall was no bigger than Cinlat, with dark hair and angry pale eyes. It was the green beam of energy that held Caldus’s attention, though. “Who are you? More of his lackeys?” Her hissed words were accompanied by a flash of blunt teeth.

Verin’s hands raised slowly. “We might be in the wrong room.”

”Release him, or I’ll add a new hole to that pretty face, girl,” Cinlat snarled. For all her aloofness earlier, Caldus caught the undercurrent of possession. He couldn’t pretend to understand the older couple, but there was no doubt that Verin belonged to her.

”Whoa, what the—“ Mako ran into the room, shoving Altan’s arm away when he tried to bar her path. “Easy, these are friendlies. Sheesh, I leave for five minutes and you’re all ready to kill each other.”

The woman with the energy blade eased back, but she didn’t release Verin. “You know these Mandalorians, Mako?”

”Yeah, well, mostly.” Mako’s brown eyes widened when they landed on the newest member of the group. “No way, you’re Cinlat. I’ve read all about your tactics. Do you mind if I pick your brain a little? This is our champion for the Great Hunt, Noara Naberrie, and I’d love to get a professional’s opinion.”

”Only if she lets my husband go.” Cinlat’s voice remained tight, her blaster still leveled on the younger woman. Caldus appreciated the lack of shake in her hold. 

Finally, the dark haired woman deactivated her weapon and pushed away from Verin. “Sorry, we’ve run into some bad luck with Mandalorians lately.” The hardness in those icy blue eyes made it clear enough what kind of troubles she meant. A hypothesis confirmed when Mako’s shoulders slumped and her mood dulled.  

The woman looked to her friend. “Are you okay with them? I need to—do something.” If she was a contender for the Hunt, Caldus didn’t blame her for being discreet.