The Under City

Both weequay standing guard looked at one another with uncertainty in their eyes, then back at the Mal and Tarfang who was standing just behind him, Felucian cherry wood cane back in his right furry mitt. The blasters in their hands shook nervously. They were about to do something immensely stupid when a voice crackled over the door comm.

Stand down, gentlemen. Let them pass.

A look of familiarity crossed Tarfang's face as he heard the voice over the comm channel. He holstered the bryar pistol in his left paw and placed both hands on the head of his cane, leaning forwards as he looked up at his Mandalorian companion.

"I'd know that voice anywhere. That's Leebo." He tapped the tip of the cane on the floor thoughtfully. "I'd still keep that blaster handy though. He's been known to double cross. I should know, he used to work for me. Heh."

Ahead, the door between the two guards split open to reveal a large well illuminated room. Behind a rectangular metallic desk was the toydarian in question, wearing a black vest with holes in the back where his wings protruded. A large monocle sat in front of his right eye and a stack of credit chips was on the desk, next to some sort of controller device with several large buttons on it. Leebo was flanked on the left by an angry looking shistavanen with dark fur, sharp claws, and long yellow fangs. On the right was another gamorrean, this one larger than any of the others they'd already seen, standing almost six and half feet tall and probably about 400 lbs of thick muscle. A gleaming axe rested across the boar's shoulder, held by two massive ham like fists. He snorted as he watched the captured weequay lead Mal and Tarfang into the room.

Leebo looked up from his desk and smirked.

"Well, well, we meet again, Cap'n. And you've brought a friend this time." The toydarian turned his head to the side and hacked a loogy on the floor. I didn't realize you still had any. What's your name Mando? Whatever he's paying you, I'll double it if you work for me."

Leebo's face twisted in a frown and he blew his trunk nostril in frustration. A high pitch hum sounded as his two tiny wings began to beat and the toydarian rose out of his seat, hovering above his desk, left hand resting on the handle of a disrupter pistol holstered on his hip. He looked from the Mandalorian back to the more familiar ewok.



The ornate handle of Captain Tarfang's cane creaked as the paw holding it clenched angrily. He glared at Leebo with his good eye, staring balefully through the information broker. Through gritted teeth, he uttered a name. "Kaine." The name was like a curse in his mouth. "Kaine Australis. Where...is...he?" His own paw hovered near the handle of his blaster. He was tired though.

Every now and then the intrepid space pirate was capable of incredible feats, but it was always taxing. The use of his lightfoil earlier had taken what little reserve he had left. Now staring down the toydarian, if it came to who was fastest, Tarfang knew it wouldn't be him. He was just too damned tired.

"Hehehe." Came a wet chuckle from Leebo's throat. "Yeah. That's what I thought you wanted. Only thing is, you're worth a whole lot more to him." The shistavanen snarled, the wolfman practically foaming at the lips as hot ropes of drool dripped from its fangs. His large green counter part snorted in contempt and unslung his two-headed axe, giving it a practice swing. Leebo snickered and regarded Mal one last time.

"Stand down, Mando, and we'll let you walk out of here alive. We only want the ewo..." FWAP! "AGH!"

Before Leebo could finish his sentence, Tarfang's blaster was in hand firing a blaster bolt through the toydarian's right wing, dropping the info broker back to the floor. He was too damn tired to beat him fairly. But he had no problem shooting him when he was distracted. Heh. All hell broke loose as Leebo's bodyguards attacked.

Overall he felt a little useless when the fighting broke out, but then again, he had hired assistance for a reason. Everything moved a whole lot slower these days and he knew in his bones he wasn't the same ewok he used to be. There would have been a time he would have tussled with the shistavanen, believe it or not, but that was a long time ago. Now he was more than happy to leave that to the younger generation.

Blaster still in hand, he aimed the shortened barrel at the bound toydarian in front of him, practically shoving the muzzle into Leebo's singular monocle. With his other hand he brought the head of his cane up under the info broker's chin and held his gaze, not letting the squirming blue bastard turn away. Fuzzy finger a breadth away from the trigger, Tarfang practically hissed as he questioned his old acquaintance.

"Kaine, Leebo. I wanna know where he is." In an instant he pulled back his cane then swiped it across the toydarian's jaw, striking him hard in the mouth. Blood, spittle, and a loose tooth sprayed from Leebo's mouth. He winced and flinched as it looked like Tarfang was ready to follow up with a second blow, holding just short so he could shout in the info brokers face. "WHERE IS HE?!"

Usually he was a lot more calm and collected than this; unfortunately for Leebo his patience was running thin. He was so close to having the answer he sought, nothing would get in his way. Not even morality. He knew the deceased members of his crew wouldn't have approved of him beating someone bloody just for information, but they weren't here anymore. Just him.

"Alright, alright. Easy, Cap'n. You know, you never used to be this violent. Oye Vey." Leebo shook his jaw, checking a loose tooth with his tongue. "He's set himself in the Inner Rim. The planets in the region are forming some sort of alliance, an Imperium I think they called it. The way I hear it from my contact on Zeltros, Kaine's leading the charge, he has the whole underworld answering to him. You thought he was going to be hard to get to before, it's impossible now. You'd have better luck resurrecting your dead cre..."

FWAP!

Discharge from Tarfang's bryar pistol bored a hole through Leebo's forehead. Smoke poured from the wound and the toydarian tipped over, dead long before his body struck the floor. The Captain stood there quietly for a moment, single eye closed as he tried to calm himself. Slowly, he holstered his blaster and leaned on his cane, a sad expression passing his furry features.

"You always were a conniving bastard, Leebo. But it didn't need to come to this. I...no, no apologies. We all have a code to live by. You died by yours."

Shaking his head, he sighed loudly before turning to Mal.

"I think that's all the information I'm going to find here, and I've killed more than I care to today. Let's get out of here."

"Runnings not really my specialty." He said, tapping his cane on the ground for emphasis. "But I will move as fast as I can."

He watched the ceiling turret swivel in its mount, one end spitting hot death at the front entrance of the makeshift compound, while a pile of charred bodies has slowly built up. The acrid stench of burnt ozone permeated the air, mingled with the aroma of cooked rakghoul flesh. Staring with his one good eye focused on the turret, he waited for an opening. Left to right, blasting and blasting, until finally there was a pause.



Summoning what little physical reserves he had, the elder ewok waddled as fast as he could out the front, striking the slavering jaws of a wounded rakghoul with the head of his cane as he raced past. Broken teeth scattered across the floor and the daring captain had to leap over a corpse just to make it outside. Once through the main doors, he had a look around the wasteland. In nearly every direction he could see clawed creatures emerging from the twisted debris of the wasteland, drawn by the noise and scent of death. Within minutes this place would be overwhelmed.

It took every effort not to draw his blaster and start firing himself, but that would only draw the creature's too him and it was his job to get the speeder ready. Grimacing as pain shot up his bum leg, he began to huff and puff as he jogged towards the parked speeder around the corner.

As he struggled to keep up, Tarfang could hear the sound of one of the beast's lopping after him, right on his tail. He looked over his shoulder just as it pounced, only to watch the creature get knocked back as one of Mal's blaster bolts punched a hole in it and sent it flying away. The Captain let out a relieved breath he hadn't realized he had been holding in, then picked up the pace again. As they turned the corner, he saw one of the mutants throw itself at Mal and take the Mandalorian to the ground, clawing and snapping its disease ridden fangs at his beskar plate.

He drew his blaster and took aim, but as the beast struggled with Mal, the two became practically as one. If he took the shot now, there was every chance he might shoot his bodyguard by accident. Desperate to do something, he looked past the monster and mando, glaring at the landspeeder.



That was when an idea popped into his little furry head.

Climbing up onto the speeder, the less-than-decrepit 'wok hopped into the drivers seat and hit the ignition. The X-34 rose on a bed of air as its repulsors powered on without protest, possibly for the first time. He took the steering yoke in his paws and cranked it around a few turns, spinning the landspeeder around until the hood was pointed towards Mal and the rakghoul on top of him. "Let's hope this works." He muttered, before pushing forwards on the accelerator and sending the landspeeder shooting forwards. The front of the repulsor craft struck the rakghoul head on, smashing it off his ally as the speeder flew overtop of Mal, before he hit the brakes. As the speeder came to an abrupt halt, the rakghoul was flung into a wall of debris, its ribs and chest already pulverized by the collision with the speeder. Tarfang spun the vehicle around until he was beside the Mandalorian. He looked over the side at Mal.

"If you're done resting, I'd really like to go now."

Repulsors whined as the landspeeder streaked over the wasteland, leaving their rakghoul problem far behind them. Even so, he occasionally took his good eye off the road to check the engine gauge on the dash. He didn't relish another mechanical failure after the last one. Easing back on the throttle, he set them at a gentle cruising pace back towards the walls of the Under City. He looked briefly at Mal when he mentioned Kaine and asked about his crew, then returned his focus to the road. He chewed his lip for a moment, then responded.

"No, no crew. Not anymore thanks to Kaine." It was a bitter subject, but Mal had already gone above and beyond as far as helping him out was concerned. He supposed he deserved the truth. "Before you go offering to help, you should know a few things. First off, Kaine isn't just some underworld sleemo. He's a Mandalorian, like you. A clan chief even, and a former Mandalore." He spat over the side. "I admittedly don't know much about your people, Mal, other then that you're really good at killing things. But if you help me, wouldn't that put you at odds with them? There is no doubt in my mind that Kaine is a bastard in sore need of killing, but a man without a tribe...well, it's lonely. I should know."

There was sincerity there. Ever since the 'Lack of Faith' went down over Onderon, killing everyone on board and destroying the closest thing Tarfang had ever had to a family, he'd been more or less on his own. He did occasionally stop by his home village on the Forest Moon, but there were too many ghosts there. It was hard to look folks in the eye when he knew in his heart that he was equally as responsible for the loss of all those ewoks.

Casually Captain Tarfang slipped a paw into his coat pocket and retrieved his trusty wooden pipe, bringing the bit to his mouth before sparking the bowl and inhaling deeply. As he held the medicinal smoke in his age addled lungs, he mulled over the idea, considering the merits. If it didn't trouble Mal then he supposed there was no reason it should bother him. In fact, with Mal's ship that already solved the problem of how he was going to get to Zeltros. After the crap shoot in the wasteland they had just gone through together, he had to admit, the Mandalorian was starting to grow on him. Plus things would probably go smoother if he had some help. He exhaled a large plume of oddly smelling smoke, a small cough rattling his ribs as he banged a furry fist on his chest to clear his lungs. He looked up at Mal and nodded.

"Alright, you talked me into it. I'll let you have a few words with him first, then I kill him." He scratched his chin. "Though I'm not entirely sure yet how I'm going to do that. He'll have access to the best armour and weapons, and lots and lots of soldiers. We may need to stop somewhere to pick up a seismic charge. One of those probably ought to do the trick."

A little overkill of a suggestion, but beskar was a tough plate to crack.

"And we're definitely bringing my speeder. This baby is a classic." He said, before patting the side of the vehicle. As his paw slapped the side, something beneath the X-34 jangled as it shook loose. Tarfang blanched, not that you could tell with all that fur, and then pulled out his reserve handkerchief from his coat. He wiped a blotch of rakghoul blood off the front bumper and tossed the rag away after. "She just needs a bit of love. Hey, is that a Pelagia Gunship?" He remarked, beginning to walk around Mal's ship. Tarfang let out a low whistle. "Oh wow, I haven't seen one of these in ages. Used to sell em on the black market after raiding the merchant lanes in the Tapani sector. You could always trust the nobles to assign a few as escorts for their cargo barges. I remember them being pretty sturdy."

"40 thousand?!" He practically choked, coughing hard as he tried to do the mental math. His left paw came up and he began counting on his furry fingers. Let's see, well there was the goons from the city, though that was more Mal's fault since he shot their buddies, so he could scratch that off the tab. Then again, there was the rakghoul in the wastes, the gamorreans at the door, more goons inside that old scow Leebo used as a base, turrets, more bodyguards and then more rakghoul. It was safe to say Mal had earned his pay in full, it was just that Tarfang happened to be cheap. Still, it wouldn't be right to try to nickel and dime his new friend, especially since he was continuing to help him with his Kaine problem.

"Alright."Said Tarfang before reaching into the folds of his long coat and finding a hidden pocket concealed in the lining. "A deal is a deal." His fingers brushed a credit pouch and pulled it free, digging inside until he found four credit chits for ten thousand a piece. He dropped the credits chits into Mal's palm before returning the pouch to his pocket and retrieving a little baggy of some ground greenish herb. He slapped the bag in Mal's hand as well. "Consider it a tip for making sure I didn't get shot. You're one hell of a shield to hide behind, heh."

He rested both of his paws on his cane handle and tapped the end on the ground, looking around the ship with appreciation.

"Yeah, this bird's not bad. Plenty of room for all your..." He looked at the basilisk droid and nodded. "...uh, gear, and such. What do you got to drink around here?" He said, already changing the subject as he began to poke around the ship.

"Womprat!" Tarfang exclaimed in protest. He jabbed a furry finger at IG-38 and wagged it feverously. "Listen here, scrap heap, I've got part-hungry Jawas on speed dial so don't test me."

Droids, why did it have to be droids? It wasn't necessarily that he didn't like them, especially when they were performing some sort of useful task. No, it was more the fact that he just didn't see the point why he should argue with something that has an off switch.

While the Captain was a skilled linguist, the tech-speak of droids was not his specialty. He scrunched his face up at R3, then broke into a mild smile as it whistled. He reached out a paw and patted its rounded dome. "Well, you're kinda cute."

As they settled in at the table and Mal raised his drink in a toast, the elderly ewok took his own glass in hand and raised it, staring at the clear liquid for a moment. He wasn't sure if it was meant to be sipped or swallowed, but as he was always willing to take that risk, he swigged it down in one gulp. The tihaar burned on the way down.

"You know, Mal..." Said Tarfang thoughtfully. "...you got a lot of hardware here. I know you said you were a hunter, but you'd do well for yourself if you turned pirate." He leaned in. "You think hunting people is exciting? Try hunting ships." He shrugged, leaning back in his seat. "But that's just the opinion of one old ewok. It does make me wonder though what sort of information you think Kaine can provide you with. My guess, it has something to do with your shared culture or people." It occurred to him then that he might be overreaching a bit. He waved a paw dismissively and slid his empty glass towards Mal. "Apologies, I don't mean to pry. I've just got a curious nature. Sometimes that gets me into trouble."