Post by Jhase Mereel on May 19, 2007 16:06:59 GMT -5
((Cheers to Halna for inspiring me on this!))
Jhase Mereel blinked, sending color flooding back across her helmet’s heads-up display. According to the infrared camera, her target was now the only one left in the room. Overriding the door’s cheap security system with a swipe of her wristplate, she drew her Verpine shatter gun and slid silently through the door into the dingy apartment.
The first room- a living area- was clear, and once again she blessed the impulse that had made her splurge on upgrading her HUD. She slipped into the next room, armored boots soundless on the thin carpeting, and pressed the gun’s muzzle to the back to the shaggy brown head.
“Tarley Conan, I presume?” she grated, the vocal filter on her helmet making her voice even lower. “Hands on top of your head and stand up slowly.”
The boy raised his hands, and Jhase stepped back a pace so he could push back the chair from the table and stand.
“May I ask to whom I owe the pleasure of this visit?” he asked, in a remarkably steady voice. Jhase was almost impressed.
“Ask away, but don’t expect an answer,” she growled, detaching a set of binders from her belt with one hand while still covering his back with the Verp. “Now step away from the table so I can cuff you.”
He obeyed, and she quickly snapped the binders around his wrists. “Now turn around, nice and slow.”
He was young, she realized, thirteen at the oldest, with messy chestnut hair, green eyes, and a smattering of freckles across his turned-up nose. Jhase surveyed him impassively, wondering why he had chosen a thief’s life. A few more years, and he could have any girl he liked eating out of his hand.
His surprise at her appearance was plain to see, and she couldn’t blame him. Even on Coruscant, the center of the galaxy and home to more cultures per square meter than anyone (except for some Senate committee, no doubt) could be bothered to count, her sky-blue body armor and Mandalorian helmet with its distinctive T-shaped eyeslit were quite an impressive sight. Of course, the Verp leveled at his chest, the blaster rifle slung carelessly over her shoulder, and the eight other visible weapons might have had something to do with that reaction too. He opened his mouth, about to say something, then shut it again. She allowed herself a thin-lipped smile, invisible to him beneath the helmet.
Yeah, I tend to have that effect on most people. It does save some arguing, though. She stepped closer, and he flinched. “No fear, boy. You’re worth more to me alive. Now you keep your hands on your head while I search you, and then we’re going to see someone who wants very much to talk to you.”
He didn’t look as if this information was very much of a comfort. Holstering the Verp, she patted him down, retrieving a small holdout pistol from his waistband and a throwing blade from the top of one boot. She was faintly disappointed, but shrugged it off. He probably didn’t think he needed to fight, trusting to his wits and stealth to keep him out of trouble.
“Who-” His voice cracked, and he swallowed, looking embarrassed. “Who wants to see me?”
His attempt at bravado wasn’t bad for just a kid, Jhase had to give him credit for that. She’d faced adults with less guts many times. Now if only he didn’t try to bribe her, or cry, she might actually start to like him. “Somebody you shouldn’t mess with.” She stuffed the boy’s puny weapons into a belt pouch and drew the Verp again, prodding his back. “Now march. We’re going back down the hall and up to the roof, where my speeder is, and then we’re going to go talk to your friend. And if you try anything funny, my friend Kyram here-” the Verp’s muzzle dug into his ribs- “is going to try something funny with your insides. Do we have an understanding?”
He nodded. “Yes, sir.”
For a moment, she thought he was trying to be funny, but then realized he was probably too scared to be flippant. He actually thought she was male. She glanced down at her chest, made flat by the armor, and raised an eyebrow. All right, let him think what he liked. That age was impossible to talk to anyway.
Placing a none-too-gentle gloved hand on the back of his neck, she marched him roughly out onto the roof and into the passenger’s seat of her blue airspeeder before sliding into the pilot’s seat and engaging the canopy. Holstering the Verp, she briefly considered leaving her helmet on, but decided the boy needed to have a few preconceptions shattered. She popped the seal and took it off.
His jaw dropped. “You- you’re a girl!”
She set the helmet on the center console. “Clever boy.”
“But- girls can’t be bounty hunters! And they don’t wear that armor, either,” he protested, sounding less sure of himself than before.
Jhase sighed, cranking up the speeder and sending it up to merge into an autopilot skylane. What did they teach children in schools these days? Didn’t anyone watch the holonews? “They can’t, huh? Ever hear of Aurra Sing? Listen, kid, I’m Mando. We have a proverb, ke barjurir gar’ade, jagyc’ade kotla a dalyc’ade kotla’shya. ‘Teach your sons to be strong and your daughters to be stronger.’ I never bothered much about what anyone said I couldn’t do.” Even Ijaat’buir. I was a headstrong, smart mouthed, cocky little chakaar, but he kept me anyway.
Not wanting to answer any more inane questions, she stabbed a button on the dashboard, flooding the cockpit with music. He, apparently oblivious to the hint and her mood, opened his mouth again.
“What now?” Jhase snapped.
“Nothing,” he said, abashed. “Or just- I didn’t realize-”
“What, that bounty hunters are people too?” She was overreacting, lashing out at him for no good reason. It had been too long since she’d had anything but a scumbag for a target; she’d almost forgotten how to act deal with anyone who wasn’t a potential target or employer. She took a deep, calming breath before finishing. “Yeah, I like a good song as much as the next person.”
He rubbed his nose, a motion made awkward by the binders at his wrists. “Oh. Right. Sorry.”
There was a long silence, in which Jhase nodded her head to the beat and reflected on bounties that apologized. This was her first one, or at least the first one she hadn’t had to threaten. She glanced over at him. He was studying the interior of the speeder, hands quietly in his lap, for all the world like a schoolchild on some sort of mad fieldtrip. Except for the binders. He noticed her gaze, and looked away quickly. She frowned. She’d gotten too good, perhaps, at being the intimidating presence in the helmet, and the boy seemed to be a decent sort. He deserved at least a chance.
She pursed her lips, considering briefly, before breaking the silence that lay heavy on them both. “Look, kid. Conan. Figured out who wants to talk to you yet?”
He looked up sharply, surprised that she had spoken. “It’s the Queen, isn’t it?”
“Clever boy. She-” Jhase paused. How to begin? “She wants you to have the chance to get out, before you find out the hard way that you don’t have her luck. It’s a rough life, and you can do better.” This is every bit as much from me as her, too, if only you knew.
He returned his gaze to the binders, seeming to ponder her words.
“Look, I want this to be the last contract I have to take on you,” she said suddenly. “I was in your boots once, or near enough, but I had my good stars looking out for me.” Good stars and Ijaat’buir. Does the boy remind me so much of myself that I don’t mind telling him all this? I’ve never-
Suddenly, he looked back up, meeting her eyes. “I don’t know why, but I believe you.”
She was almost insulted, and used the slight flare of indignation to shake off the pang of memory. “You better. I don’t lie. Ask my last target.”
He quirked an eyebrow, and Jhase was taken aback once more. She’d been much older than him when she’d finally perfected that trick. “Why do I get the feeling that I’d have to wake the dead to do that?”
“Don’t get cute, unless you’re the one holding the blaster. Not everyone has my sense of humor.” She was, in spite of herself, beginning to like the little chakaar after all. His eyes widened, and, once he realized she was actually joking, he allowed himself a small smile.
Jhase, swearing, abruptly jerked the speeder down and to the right, into a smaller stream of vehicles. Conan’s face had changed instantly from amusement to shock, and she felt obliged to give the poor kid an explanation. “Almost missed the exit. I’m not used to Coruscanti traffic. And, uh, pretend you didn’t hear that first bit. Don’t want to corrupt the minors and all.”
He relaxed, slightly, and mouthed one of the words experimentally. “Especially not that one!” she snapped. “The Queen’ll have my hide if she finds out that instead of saving you from yourself, I teach you to swear in Mando’a.”
He cocked his head to one side. “The Queen knows you?”
“We- ah, go back.” It was true, and easier than telling him everything. Even now, Jhase wasn’t entirely sure she knew the whole story, and she’d never been one to reminisce at undue length to complete strangers anyway.
He was staring out the window now. “This isn’t where her apartment is.”
Jhase rolled her eyes. The kid might be bright, but he still had a lot to learn. “Of course not. You don’t conduct business in your home. Well, you might, but the Queen does not. I think you might want to rethink your ambition, if that’s all you know. And who’s going to follow a twelve-year-old boy, anyway?”
“Thirteen, last month,” he muttered sullenly. “And the same ones who’d follow a girl your age.”
Jhase snorted. “There you go with the ‘girl’ stuff again. Have you ever heard the story of just how a girl- and she's younger than me, actually- ended up Queen?” He shook his head. “I didn’t think so. Next time you decide to smart off, pick someone your own size who doesn’t own a lightsaber.”
Jhase half-wished she’d still been wearing the helmet with its built-in holocam. The look of absolute shock on the boy’s face was priceless. “You mean- she’s not- not a Jedi-”
Jhase’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “No, but you don’t have to be a Jedi to make a lightsaber dangerous. You want to do your homework next time, boy. You picked on one of the most dangerous people on Coruscant.”
His face fell. “I’m really in for it, huh?” He sounded so forlorn that Jhase almost laughed.
“No, you got lucky this time. She feels sorry for you. She just wants the pleasure of telling you that herself.” This information didn’t seem to make him feel any better, so she clapped a hand on his shoulder. He flinched. “Look, kid, I like you.” Not a complete lie, at least… “You’ve got brains and guts, and you’ll go a long way if you can just learn when to keep your mouth shut.” His brow creased as he processed her words, then he looked up and nodded. “There you go!” she said encouragingly. “You’re learning already.”
She swerved sharply down and to the left, pulling up to a balcony near the top of an office building. “This is your stop. Just knock, and they’ll let you in.” She punched the button to disengage the canopy and released the binders with a swipe of her wristplate. “Jate’karase, kid. Good luck.”
“Um, thanks,” he said quietly, getting stiffly out of the speeder. “Uh, can I have my blaster and my-”
“Nice try, but I’ll leave them right here, on the balcony. You can get them back when the Queen’s finished with you.”
He nodded halfheartedly and took a few reluctant steps toward the building, still watching her. Realizing what he was waiting for, Jhase snorted impatiently and tossed the pistol and knife onto the edge of the platform. “You’re lucky I’m in such a good mood today, boy. You’ve almost accused me of thieving, and the last person to do that is now a throw rug.”
His eyes bugged out. “Really?” he asked, with mingled shock and admiration.
She curled her lip wickedly. “No, but he wished he was. So long, kid. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
Before he could recover, she shut the canopy and shot off, circling the building once to make sure he didn’t try anything stupid. He walked the few steps to the door, almost tripping over the threshold because he was watching her speeder. She nodded in satisfaction and cranked up the volume on her stereo, letting the thumping bass of Plexo-33’s new single drown out her thoughts.
Jhase Mereel blinked, sending color flooding back across her helmet’s heads-up display. According to the infrared camera, her target was now the only one left in the room. Overriding the door’s cheap security system with a swipe of her wristplate, she drew her Verpine shatter gun and slid silently through the door into the dingy apartment.
The first room- a living area- was clear, and once again she blessed the impulse that had made her splurge on upgrading her HUD. She slipped into the next room, armored boots soundless on the thin carpeting, and pressed the gun’s muzzle to the back to the shaggy brown head.
“Tarley Conan, I presume?” she grated, the vocal filter on her helmet making her voice even lower. “Hands on top of your head and stand up slowly.”
The boy raised his hands, and Jhase stepped back a pace so he could push back the chair from the table and stand.
“May I ask to whom I owe the pleasure of this visit?” he asked, in a remarkably steady voice. Jhase was almost impressed.
“Ask away, but don’t expect an answer,” she growled, detaching a set of binders from her belt with one hand while still covering his back with the Verp. “Now step away from the table so I can cuff you.”
He obeyed, and she quickly snapped the binders around his wrists. “Now turn around, nice and slow.”
He was young, she realized, thirteen at the oldest, with messy chestnut hair, green eyes, and a smattering of freckles across his turned-up nose. Jhase surveyed him impassively, wondering why he had chosen a thief’s life. A few more years, and he could have any girl he liked eating out of his hand.
His surprise at her appearance was plain to see, and she couldn’t blame him. Even on Coruscant, the center of the galaxy and home to more cultures per square meter than anyone (except for some Senate committee, no doubt) could be bothered to count, her sky-blue body armor and Mandalorian helmet with its distinctive T-shaped eyeslit were quite an impressive sight. Of course, the Verp leveled at his chest, the blaster rifle slung carelessly over her shoulder, and the eight other visible weapons might have had something to do with that reaction too. He opened his mouth, about to say something, then shut it again. She allowed herself a thin-lipped smile, invisible to him beneath the helmet.
Yeah, I tend to have that effect on most people. It does save some arguing, though. She stepped closer, and he flinched. “No fear, boy. You’re worth more to me alive. Now you keep your hands on your head while I search you, and then we’re going to see someone who wants very much to talk to you.”
He didn’t look as if this information was very much of a comfort. Holstering the Verp, she patted him down, retrieving a small holdout pistol from his waistband and a throwing blade from the top of one boot. She was faintly disappointed, but shrugged it off. He probably didn’t think he needed to fight, trusting to his wits and stealth to keep him out of trouble.
“Who-” His voice cracked, and he swallowed, looking embarrassed. “Who wants to see me?”
His attempt at bravado wasn’t bad for just a kid, Jhase had to give him credit for that. She’d faced adults with less guts many times. Now if only he didn’t try to bribe her, or cry, she might actually start to like him. “Somebody you shouldn’t mess with.” She stuffed the boy’s puny weapons into a belt pouch and drew the Verp again, prodding his back. “Now march. We’re going back down the hall and up to the roof, where my speeder is, and then we’re going to go talk to your friend. And if you try anything funny, my friend Kyram here-” the Verp’s muzzle dug into his ribs- “is going to try something funny with your insides. Do we have an understanding?”
He nodded. “Yes, sir.”
For a moment, she thought he was trying to be funny, but then realized he was probably too scared to be flippant. He actually thought she was male. She glanced down at her chest, made flat by the armor, and raised an eyebrow. All right, let him think what he liked. That age was impossible to talk to anyway.
Placing a none-too-gentle gloved hand on the back of his neck, she marched him roughly out onto the roof and into the passenger’s seat of her blue airspeeder before sliding into the pilot’s seat and engaging the canopy. Holstering the Verp, she briefly considered leaving her helmet on, but decided the boy needed to have a few preconceptions shattered. She popped the seal and took it off.
His jaw dropped. “You- you’re a girl!”
She set the helmet on the center console. “Clever boy.”
“But- girls can’t be bounty hunters! And they don’t wear that armor, either,” he protested, sounding less sure of himself than before.
Jhase sighed, cranking up the speeder and sending it up to merge into an autopilot skylane. What did they teach children in schools these days? Didn’t anyone watch the holonews? “They can’t, huh? Ever hear of Aurra Sing? Listen, kid, I’m Mando. We have a proverb, ke barjurir gar’ade, jagyc’ade kotla a dalyc’ade kotla’shya. ‘Teach your sons to be strong and your daughters to be stronger.’ I never bothered much about what anyone said I couldn’t do.” Even Ijaat’buir. I was a headstrong, smart mouthed, cocky little chakaar, but he kept me anyway.
Not wanting to answer any more inane questions, she stabbed a button on the dashboard, flooding the cockpit with music. He, apparently oblivious to the hint and her mood, opened his mouth again.
“What now?” Jhase snapped.
“Nothing,” he said, abashed. “Or just- I didn’t realize-”
“What, that bounty hunters are people too?” She was overreacting, lashing out at him for no good reason. It had been too long since she’d had anything but a scumbag for a target; she’d almost forgotten how to act deal with anyone who wasn’t a potential target or employer. She took a deep, calming breath before finishing. “Yeah, I like a good song as much as the next person.”
He rubbed his nose, a motion made awkward by the binders at his wrists. “Oh. Right. Sorry.”
There was a long silence, in which Jhase nodded her head to the beat and reflected on bounties that apologized. This was her first one, or at least the first one she hadn’t had to threaten. She glanced over at him. He was studying the interior of the speeder, hands quietly in his lap, for all the world like a schoolchild on some sort of mad fieldtrip. Except for the binders. He noticed her gaze, and looked away quickly. She frowned. She’d gotten too good, perhaps, at being the intimidating presence in the helmet, and the boy seemed to be a decent sort. He deserved at least a chance.
She pursed her lips, considering briefly, before breaking the silence that lay heavy on them both. “Look, kid. Conan. Figured out who wants to talk to you yet?”
He looked up sharply, surprised that she had spoken. “It’s the Queen, isn’t it?”
“Clever boy. She-” Jhase paused. How to begin? “She wants you to have the chance to get out, before you find out the hard way that you don’t have her luck. It’s a rough life, and you can do better.” This is every bit as much from me as her, too, if only you knew.
He returned his gaze to the binders, seeming to ponder her words.
“Look, I want this to be the last contract I have to take on you,” she said suddenly. “I was in your boots once, or near enough, but I had my good stars looking out for me.” Good stars and Ijaat’buir. Does the boy remind me so much of myself that I don’t mind telling him all this? I’ve never-
Suddenly, he looked back up, meeting her eyes. “I don’t know why, but I believe you.”
She was almost insulted, and used the slight flare of indignation to shake off the pang of memory. “You better. I don’t lie. Ask my last target.”
He quirked an eyebrow, and Jhase was taken aback once more. She’d been much older than him when she’d finally perfected that trick. “Why do I get the feeling that I’d have to wake the dead to do that?”
“Don’t get cute, unless you’re the one holding the blaster. Not everyone has my sense of humor.” She was, in spite of herself, beginning to like the little chakaar after all. His eyes widened, and, once he realized she was actually joking, he allowed himself a small smile.
Jhase, swearing, abruptly jerked the speeder down and to the right, into a smaller stream of vehicles. Conan’s face had changed instantly from amusement to shock, and she felt obliged to give the poor kid an explanation. “Almost missed the exit. I’m not used to Coruscanti traffic. And, uh, pretend you didn’t hear that first bit. Don’t want to corrupt the minors and all.”
He relaxed, slightly, and mouthed one of the words experimentally. “Especially not that one!” she snapped. “The Queen’ll have my hide if she finds out that instead of saving you from yourself, I teach you to swear in Mando’a.”
He cocked his head to one side. “The Queen knows you?”
“We- ah, go back.” It was true, and easier than telling him everything. Even now, Jhase wasn’t entirely sure she knew the whole story, and she’d never been one to reminisce at undue length to complete strangers anyway.
He was staring out the window now. “This isn’t where her apartment is.”
Jhase rolled her eyes. The kid might be bright, but he still had a lot to learn. “Of course not. You don’t conduct business in your home. Well, you might, but the Queen does not. I think you might want to rethink your ambition, if that’s all you know. And who’s going to follow a twelve-year-old boy, anyway?”
“Thirteen, last month,” he muttered sullenly. “And the same ones who’d follow a girl your age.”
Jhase snorted. “There you go with the ‘girl’ stuff again. Have you ever heard the story of just how a girl- and she's younger than me, actually- ended up Queen?” He shook his head. “I didn’t think so. Next time you decide to smart off, pick someone your own size who doesn’t own a lightsaber.”
Jhase half-wished she’d still been wearing the helmet with its built-in holocam. The look of absolute shock on the boy’s face was priceless. “You mean- she’s not- not a Jedi-”
Jhase’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “No, but you don’t have to be a Jedi to make a lightsaber dangerous. You want to do your homework next time, boy. You picked on one of the most dangerous people on Coruscant.”
His face fell. “I’m really in for it, huh?” He sounded so forlorn that Jhase almost laughed.
“No, you got lucky this time. She feels sorry for you. She just wants the pleasure of telling you that herself.” This information didn’t seem to make him feel any better, so she clapped a hand on his shoulder. He flinched. “Look, kid, I like you.” Not a complete lie, at least… “You’ve got brains and guts, and you’ll go a long way if you can just learn when to keep your mouth shut.” His brow creased as he processed her words, then he looked up and nodded. “There you go!” she said encouragingly. “You’re learning already.”
She swerved sharply down and to the left, pulling up to a balcony near the top of an office building. “This is your stop. Just knock, and they’ll let you in.” She punched the button to disengage the canopy and released the binders with a swipe of her wristplate. “Jate’karase, kid. Good luck.”
“Um, thanks,” he said quietly, getting stiffly out of the speeder. “Uh, can I have my blaster and my-”
“Nice try, but I’ll leave them right here, on the balcony. You can get them back when the Queen’s finished with you.”
He nodded halfheartedly and took a few reluctant steps toward the building, still watching her. Realizing what he was waiting for, Jhase snorted impatiently and tossed the pistol and knife onto the edge of the platform. “You’re lucky I’m in such a good mood today, boy. You’ve almost accused me of thieving, and the last person to do that is now a throw rug.”
His eyes bugged out. “Really?” he asked, with mingled shock and admiration.
She curled her lip wickedly. “No, but he wished he was. So long, kid. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
Before he could recover, she shut the canopy and shot off, circling the building once to make sure he didn’t try anything stupid. He walked the few steps to the door, almost tripping over the threshold because he was watching her speeder. She nodded in satisfaction and cranked up the volume on her stereo, letting the thumping bass of Plexo-33’s new single drown out her thoughts.
