Make-Ups And Break-Ups (Mike, Juzt) [Oatara]

[Ghostie]

Ethan sat hunched over in the back of chopper, holding his rifle as the vehicle flew over the jungle, parallel with the setting sun. He watched the sun go past, and the tops of the trees. The chopper came close to skirting the leaves. That pilot... It would've been a nice view, had Ethan not been in such a foul mood. It was mainly due to the company he had.

Horst Stellar and Ethan Moreill were the only ones occupying the chopper at the time. The last time the two men had been this close was their altercation a couple of weeks back, at four in the morning. Since then, Ethan had treated Horst as a complete stranger. It wasn't hard to do, as the Engineer had gone gallivanting after Ervisa for about a week or so.

In Ethan's mind, Horst was still an Aruetii. Ethan had toyed with the idea of demoting him just for the incident, and finding someone else to replace him. But after he can calmed down and sobered up, Ethan reasoned out that the blame didn't fall squarely on Horst. Well, in a way it did. But Ethan also decided that if someone else had been with his girlfriend, he would've done nothing differently.

Now they were out making a supply run. A training regiment in the middle of the jungle needed some fresh supplies. Food, medical equipment, blaster packs. The essentials. Quincy had taken a large group of new recruits, brought in by Spearpoint's latest successful raid. Quincy had not only taken them as far as he could out in the middle of no where, but he had taken them to stay.

Cargo littered the floor of the troop compartment, along with Horst's own equipment if it was too big to fit in the cockpit. Ethan barely had any room to move. And yet there was still more strapped to the ceiling and to the bottom of the chopper.

Quincy's gonna make a damn outpost out there.

Ethan had volunteered to run the drop off. He needed some fresh air, he hadn't been able to get out of the base since that fight, except to check out the new Telos-Class Hammerhead Spearpoint had acquired. The Mandalorian hadn't realized who the pilot was until he was strapped in. He quickly decided once the chopper was off the ground that he should've checked first.

It had been a dead silent trip, with the only noise coming from the hum of the rotors. He had not interest in talking, even if Horst did. There was nothing to talk about. If Horst had looked back at all, he was greeted with nothing but the sight of red, walking and breath, fully armed suit of armor. Which, in Ethan's experience, could be one of the most intimidating things in the galaxy.

And audible sigh escaped Ethan's lips as he leaned back. He thought some fresh air would be nice. It turned out to be anything but. He just wanted to get this drop done and over with. After that, he would go have dinner and drown his misery in some more Corellian Rum.

What little bit he had left anyways.

[Fromikeable]

((For Horst this takes place AFTER ORCL III. As such, I'm keeping it vague.))

Horst the chopper in dead silence, sort of glad that the chopper rotors were so loud. He'd gone ahead and muted the comm in his helmet; it was both a deterrent for him to say anything stupid and a way for him to make sure he could hear the sweet, sweet, mind-numbing clunks of the chopper.

Horst was readily taking full blame for his actions those nights ago. He'd been a grade-A ass, starting with the punch to the jaw and ending somewhere before he stole a fighter to go after Ervisa. He would have tried to apologize since then, to Ethan, to the LeFro'as, hell even to Quincy, but between their obvious discomfort and not wanting him around and his own distrust of his lead tongue, he'd decided it probably was best for him to just shut his trap.

And that was only hoping any of them would even listen to him after his little stunts.

Horst sighed, wiping his eyes as he watched the jungle below them fly by. Between Ervisa and everything else, he was about ready to just throw in the towel and retire.

Horst glanced back at the troop compartment. There sat a mass of red Beskar'garm, resolute and immobile save for the shakes it allowed due to the chopper's vibrations. Horst didn't look long, knowing full well that there wasn't anything he could do. He'd made his choices, taken his actions, and now he'd own up to them, simple as th-

A beeping noise came from the radar, which made Horst jump a little. Why was there a contact? There shouldn't be another bird for miles. Horst leaned to the right a little, trying to see the radar better.

Beep! 500 kilometers out.

Beep! 400 kilometers out. The thing's fast.

Beep! 300 kilometers out. ... Waitasecond...

Beep! 200 kilometers out. "... OH SH*T!"

Beep! Horst turned on his comm. "H-" The back of the chopper was suddenly in front of the rest as a the air shook, an explosion rocking the entire metal mass forward. The chopper started beeping a whole lot more as warnings of every kind started blaring, ranging from system failures to altitude advisories. Horst yanked at the stick trying to level the vehicle out, but it was no use.

There wasn't a lot anyone could do when the chopper was smashing into a tree, then another, and then the forest floor.

When Horst finally opened his eyes again, he couldn't help but have a bit of a flashback to the first time he'd really met Ervisa. He swore under his breathe that he'd never so much as touch a chopper while on Oatara if it was the last thing he ever did.

Moaning, Horst pushed himself up, noting that his armor had stopped a nasty piece of shrapnel from gutting him. On any other day he would have found that lucky, but so far this entire week seemed to be one giant vat of rotten fortune.

Unstrapping himself, Horst called out, "Okay back there?" He didn't call by name; they weren't quite there yet.

[Juzt]

Simo was impassive as he looked at the human beside him dancing and shouting with smoking RPG in hand. However deep underneath his calm exterior Simo was not a happy bunny. The Rodian was furious in fact. Oh it had been a good shot to be sure, the young man had waited and listened and timed it exactly right, however something else was annoying Simo. Both the young man's presence and his strategy. As far as Simo was concerned this was a stupid strategy, Spearpoint was effectively a small army, that had bases mostly for training in various places on the Planet's limited landmass. It was inconceivable that some one would not hear or detect a massive explosion out here in the jungle. Not only that there was a huge bonus for capturing them alive. They were to only kill them if they must, the boss probably wanted to play with them before killing them Had Simo had his way, they would have taken their time masqueraded as just more scum hiding out and passing through. They could have plied some one with drinks gained confidences, then snuck into the Spearpoint base and caught them and then got out again, no problem no fuss. Not that Simo was squeamish about killing if it that was the only way to do it, he would do it, but there were more efficient means than using an RPG and blasting them out of the sky

This brought Simo back to the Human by him, the Boss had foisted his son, Drey on them insisting he was somehow the greatest Bounty Hunter ever deposited in the Galaxy. Oh he was talented with weapons but he was rash, stupid and petty. Simo and the other Hunters had had to go with his plan because he was the boss' son. Simo honestly thought the boy was insane, though he supposed many would think that about him to seeing as he killed for money, but Simo knew the difference between shooting someone quick and clean and setting someone on fire and gleefully watching them burn.

Simo desperately wished he was somewhere else. Joining this group was an act of sheer necessity. The tidy fortune he had built up on Nar Shadaa was now nearly gone he could barely afford to keep his ship in the space. A run of bad luck had culminated, in even travelling to the Republic for work which was always a last resort. The Army of the Republic had long memories for deserters especially when they shot their CO in both legs and shattered his knee caps into several bits. Simo smiled inwardly remembering that moment of release from the life his father tried to force on him. However he was here now and had to concentrate on the present, Spearpoint was a nuisance to a lot of people and Simo's employer had a lot of connections everywhere, hence all the wonderful equipment he had outfitted them with. Simo however stuck to what he knew best, his trusty Blaster Pistol in its holster and a rifle slung over his back in case he needed more fire-power, he had little time for cumbersome armour.

Simo glanced back at Drey dancing like a Kath hound on spice.

“We should move quickly.” he said in softly in Rodese. One thing Simo was grateful to Drey's father for was procuring those translator devices, Simo hated speaking basic. His Rodian mouth lisped around the sounds and it was hard to be taken seriously as tough and imposing when you had a lisp.

“Why? We got them!” whined Drey in a unpleasant childlike manner.

Simo's resolute façade of calm did not fail him. “Just because we blew the chopper out of the Sky does not mean they are dead. If they are alive and conscious and their com system is working they could be calling for help now. May I also point out that your father would prefer them alive.” Simo was patient like he was speaking to a slightly underdeveloped child.

“Now lets go, they could be escaping they have been on this world for sometime and doubtless know it better than we do, so we should move quickly."

One of the other hunters a Transdoshan said “We should spread out and close in on the crash site.”

Simo nodded “Yes, but keep in visual contact at all times.”

“Hey! Hey! I am giving the orders.” Drey complained petulantly again. “ I told Daddy dearest that I could do this on my own, I don't need you all, the money for this job should be all mine. Just watch it all right!” Simo's antennae twitched, the Rodian equivalent of a raised eyebrow.

“I dunno how you do it.” whispered the Transdoshan. “I could just kill him now, save us a lot of trouble later.”

“Yes and get us trouble with Daddy dearest.” said Simo with the merest hint of contempt.

Simo followed the three other hunters, the Trandoshan, a Duros, and a Weequay on as they spread out and moved quietly toward the crash site. This was not going to go well, he could feel it.

[Ghostie]

Ethan heard a 'whoosh' of air behind him. Then the chopper buckled as an explosion happened right behind him. They had been shot down. Ethan grabbed the cargo net strapped to the top of the vehicle with one hand while holding his rifle with the other, cursing in Mando'a all the way down.

As the chopper swayed back and forth, cargo fell out to the left and right. Ethan couldn't keep track of what was left, but not a lot of it. Then they plunged into the jungle. The vehicle ripped leaves and branches off as it went down, much of the debris landing in the hold. The chopper hit one tree, and then bounced off and hit another. The second tree went down with the chopper, not being able to handle the weight and the force of the crash.

The chopper hit the ground in a low spot, a dip. The angle at which the vehicle went in ensured that the left rotor was sheared off on impact, parts flying everywhere. A piece of metal flew right at Ethan, hitting him in the cheek. The metal bounced off of his helmet though, and left a new scratch.

The chopper finally came to a hault. It's nose was buried in dirt, giving anyone in the cockpit that the chopper was half-buried for a reason. Ethan stood up as much as he could in the hold. They had lost all the loose cargo, and he wasn't sure if Horst's stuff was around. If he was smart, he would've secured it.

Then again, Ethan didn't think too highly of Horst right now. He wasn't about to call him the smartest person in Spearpoint.

The Engineer called back, the first words he had said to Ethan in weeks. He was asking if the Mandalorian was okay. Besides a new scratch on his helmet and a little sore, Ethan was good to go. It was a good thing they were both wearing their armor.

With his rifle still in hand, Ethan threw it outside. He debated whether or not to leave Horst to find his things on his own, but Ethan was better than that. He then located Horst's things, which were indeed strapped in.

He proceeded to unpack them and throw them outside as well, rather unceremoniously, next to his own rifle. Hefting the large repeater last, he threw it as far as he could, which was just short of the pile that had now formed. It made sickly sound as it landed in the mud.

“Yeah, I'm good.”

Short, direct answer. No real tone to it. Yet, it was still awkward to say to his former best friend. Ethan didn't look at him as he gave a response, or anywhere near the cockpit in that fact. Ethan didn't wait for a response before hoping out of the wreck.

He looked around before going for the pile, taking in his surroundings. It was the jungle, in the middle of no where. There wasn't a soul for miles, or so Ethan assumed, besides Horst and himself. If they needed to, Ethan and Horst could probably hike back to Base. Or to Quincy's group, which was much closer.

Well, at least Ethan could. He didn't know how used Horst was to that bulky armor of his. But to Ethan, his was like a second skin. He could hike in it. Horst on the other hand, he doubted it. But before even considering hiking back, Ethan wasn't going to pass up a good radio.

“Got a beacon or radio or somethin'?”

Ethan continued to scan the jungle. He looked to the left, and then right, and back to the left real quick. Something had just appeared out of the jungle, not an animal, as the figures were walking on two feet. They were still too far off to tell who they were. Ethan snatched up his rifle, and then shouted at the figures.

“HEY! MANDALORIAN! AND STATE YOUR NAME AND RANK!”

It was a challenge, with an answer that all of Spearpoint knew. When someone challenged you with Mandalorian, you were suppose to answer with Dxun, the sight of one of the most bloodiest battles during the old Mandalorian Wars and one of their most famous planets.

Ethan looked at the Horst, the first time he had directly for weeks. The only people that were on the island was Spearpoint, Ethan made sure of that. But someone had to have shot them down. If they answered the question wrong, the two of them were going to be in for some trouble.

“Grab your stuff. I hope you've gotten enough practice in with that repeater.”

Now some fight over a girl didn't matter. If they were indeed there for a firefight, Horst and Ethan were going to have to rely on each other once again, something each of them probably wasn't looking forward to.

At least, Ethan wasn't. Horst was still an Aruetii to him. Someone he wasn't sure that he could trust. Which was ironic, as Ethan had been the one who slept with Horst's girlfriend, even if he hadn't known. But Ethan knew, or at least hoped, the Engineer would be good under fire.

[Fromikeable]

Horst slid out of the cockpit just in time to see Ethan chuck his brand new repeater out of the door with about as little care as physically possible, right into the mud. He looked at the mass of metal sitting on the ground, now grimey as his polishing job quickly became void. That normally would have gotten him pretty damn angry.

Instead of that though, Horst simply sighed and walked over to the mud, grabbing his gun. He wasn't too worried; this was a blaster repeater, after all, and a high-quality one at that. If a little mud could stop it, Horst would rather use it as a bat than gun.

Besides, it's not like he should have expected much different. His own anger might have been subsided, but he doubted Ethan would be able to get over it all so quickly.

Ethan actually talked to him, though the question was so rough and brief that Horst was convinced he could have used it to sand a 2 x 4. He answered with a sigh. "Yeah, there should be a coupla' radios in one of tha' containers. They were, uh... on the list." Horst kept himself from explaining too far, as he was getting the impression that the newly-promoted Admiral didn't really want to hear it.

Horst wouldn't either in that scenario.

Ethan yelled the Spearpoint challenge at that point, and Horst looked up immediately, trying to spot who was there. Indeed a figure was noticeable in the brush, and judging by the way it was moving, Horst could only guess that it was armed and armored.

That could either be very good, or very bad.

Grabbing his repeater with both hands, Horst activated the battery, getting ready on both the spinning trigger and the actual firing trigger. The T-8 was gatling-based, but it already was coming to suit Horst just fine. He had hated his last gun for a reason; it had been way too much like a giant rifle.

"Don' worry about it." Horst scanned the trees behind them, making sure that no one was coming from behind either. If there was one guy, why couldn't there be eight?

"I've got yer' back."

[Juzt]

(OOC: Changing Drey to Blue as Brown is too close to Red)

“HEY! MANDALORIAN! AND STATE YOUR NAME AND RANK!”

Simo was baffled for a moment. Then he heard Drey shout something distinctly rude followed by “... WE'RE NOT MANDALORIANS.”

Simo raised his eyes skyward. “Shut up you idiot!” he hissed quietly and shoved Drey out of the way.

Before Drey could comment further Simo stepped forward a little, his long olive coat swirling a little in the gentle breeze. He opened his mouth and shouted in Huttese desperately hoping they would understand him, “Hello Gentlemen, lovely day.”
[/i]
He carefully observed them as he spoke two men heavily built, one in Mandalorian armour of some kind, this were most likely they guys. “I know this must be a bit of a bother, but I am afraid we are here to catch two men matching your description.”

Hey could hear Drey muttering close by, oh how he wanted to blow his brains out. His voice remained even and polite as if he were asking how good the local hotels were. He kept very close to a rather large tree in case they turned nasty. He doubted very much from their reputation that they would come quietly. They also seemed relatively uninjured, Simo knew this plan was a bad idea as there was likely no way out of this without casualties. The other men kept their rifles trained carefully on the two men before them.

Simo did not hear them if they had responded, most likely due to Drey's ravings in the background. The other hunters tried to shush him but it was not working. Simo had to resolve this before this lunatic did anything to get them all killed. “Now if you would be so good as to drop your weapons. I really don't want to see you hurt.” He lied, he could not care less, all he knew was the bounty for getting them in alive was bigger.

“OH ENOUGH OF THIS!” screamed Drey, firing his rifle for what would surely have been a head shot on the one Simo recalled was called Horst. Using his quick lean frame honed over years of running from all manner of Security forces Simo body checked Drey the blaster shot thankfully went sailing just a little over Horst's head. Simo and Drey crashed to the ground landing in the undergrowth. “I knew I never should have left Nar Shaddaa.” Thought Simo to himself.

[Ghostie]

More figures appeared, five of them now. One was a human, in the lead. He was followed by a Rodian, a Trandoshan, a Duros, and a Weequay. The human was young, and took the charge rashly, or so Ethan thought. He yelled something rather rude, and then proceeded to tell Ethan and Horst that they weren't Mandalorians.

Wrong answer. Ethan dove behind the nearest large tree, loosing track of Horst. The big guy could take care of himself though. Ethan got up and leaned against the tree, now his red armor was covered in mud. Looking around to see the back of the group, Ethan was able to see the Weequay, the Trandoshan, and a part of the Duros.

The Rodian went forward, or to the left from where Ethan was peeking out. He was speaking Huttese, a language Ethan had picked up while fighting in the gang wars on Nar Shaddaa. That Rodian took him back ten years. No Spearpoint, no Horst, no Sith. Just blasting some goons and getting paid well. That was a good time. While not exactly honest work, Ethan didn't ave to worry about anything.

Ethan wouldn't doubt that this Rodian had fought for some crimelord or another as well. He looked familiar, but after awhile of blasting so many of the green aliens, they all looked the same. For some reason, the Hutts loved to hire Rodians as troops, hunters, or cannon fodder.

The Rodian called them gentlemen, and asked that they would throw down their guns. He had no wish to see them harmed. Ethan would've smiled, if not for his mood. He seriously doubted the Rodian cared if they were harmed or not. And the fact they he thought he was going to harm Ethan and Horst? The Mandalorian could've laughed.

He rubbed the new scratch on his helmet as the Rodian talked, somewhat absentmindedly. He reached up and touched the side of his helmet, activating the comm and keying it into Horst's own. Ethan whispered in Mando'a, but despite his soft voice the helmet mic picked it up fine.

<<He wants us to throw down our weapons and come nicely. They're hunters. There's five of them, I got a view of three of them from here.>>

But things weren't moving fast enough for the human bounty hunter. He yelled, and then took a pot shot at Horst. One that the Rodian tried to block. It seemed Horst and Ethan were worth more alive. Ethan wasn't going anywhere though.

He used the distraction of the human to pop out and shoot the Weequay. Ethan didn't want to kill them, but rather teach them. They needed to get off his island. He wasn't someone to be messed with. The shot hit it's mark, blowing out the Weequay's left knee, and the alien fell to the ground with a scream. Ethan went back in cover and addressed the hunters.

“I suggest you get off of my island.”

[Fromikeable]

Horst stopped his scanning when some brash fool shouted out that the figures were not, in fact, Mandalorians. The voice was rash and confident, and maybe a little arrogant.

Ethan dived to some cover, and Horst ducked behind the remains of the chopper, squeezing his finger a little more on the rotational trigger of his repeater. He listened closely, peeking out every now and again. He was hardly hidden from view, but he'd be able to avoid most shots coming his way, and still be able to duck out and take some shots.

Great. Moron hunters. The only thing Horst hated more than an idiot that spoke like they were the galaxy's finest were those idiots that also thought they were invincible. It cued lift up his helmet and spit on the ground before a Rodian in a coat stepped out of the shadows, shouting with a polite tone that made Horst glare at him. Five armed men in the jungle hardly sounded polite.

The Rodian said a few things in gibbering Huttese, and they were lost on Horst. He merely listened, drumming his fingers and waiting for Ethan to take the lead since he knew Huttese. It helped having bilingual friends. Horst leaned out of his cover again, trying to recount how many hunters were there.

Had that shot been a hair downward, the jungles of Oatara would have been the last thing Horst would have ever seen.

Ducking his head back in, Horst cursed loudly as he felt the top of his helmet. The bolt hadn't even skinned it, but that had still been way too close for comfort.

I swear, the day I don't get shot at... His thinking was interrupted by Ethan, who relayed a quick translation. These bozos wanted them to give up and come quietly.

Quiet was not a word in Horst's vocabulary.

<<Roger that. I've got all five 'n sight. Lemmie show 'em a lil' Oataran hospitality.>> Horst squeezed his rotation trigger, his repeater whirring to a quick hum as the barrels started spinning. Funny. Hadn't him and Ethan not been talking to each other a few minutes ago?

Screw it. We can get pissy when we ain't gettin' shot at. Horst ducked out from behind the chopper again and grinned under his helmet as his pulled the second trigger. A hail of blaster fire rained from the metal beast, making a quick sweep at all of the figures' vicinities before Horst began to generally fire, trying to suppress the hunters.

He aimed for the brush and tree trunks before him as he radioed in, <<I've got ya' covered. Smoke 'em burc'ya!>>

[Juzt]

Simo heard a shout from one of the figures he vaguely remembered was called Ethan. Something about leaving the Island. Though it was hard to concentrate on what he was saying when was trying to take Drey's Rifle from him. Then all hell let loose he heard repeater fire spreading along the line.

Simo loosed go of Drey, to bark out the order “Pull back out of range NOW!”


The Weequay seemed to have been hit a couple of times once by the rifle of Ethan and another time from the rapid repeater fire, he was injured clearly, and not going to be much use to anyone. The others seemed fine, so Simo completely ignored him, pulling out his favourite Blaster Pistol, he squeezed off a few shots of suppressing fire to help the healthy ones pull back. The Weequay could rot for all he cared. The others seemed to be retreating back a little way in good order occasionally firing to give another one of there number a chance to move back through the trees.

He then turned to look for Drey, he was going to knock the little moron's lights out. Simo did a double take, scanning all about him. Drey was no where to be seen. Simo muttered swear words under his breath, and started to pull back himself. The Weequay on the far side suddenly went down. Simo was confused as the fire came from their flank not from the two in front of them. Simo shrugged it off, they had now pulled back beyond the Weequay so if there was a third man running about they would know about it.

Simo ducked behind the nearest tree and shouted again. “Now that was not very friendly.” He wondered where the hell Drey had gone, he hoped he had run off back to Daddy.

“Gentlemen I can tell your old hands at this. You know how this will go. Your not going to surrender and we are not going anywhere.”

He said in the same tone of voice as one would expect from an old friend asking “And how is your Thomas doing these days?” Calm, calm, never ever show emotion to the enemy or in Simo's case that meant never show emotion to anyone. While all around you is crumbling smile amiably and give a little shrug of the shoulders. He found it drove people mad, they wanted you to be scared, or angry or defiant. It threw them off when it looked like you just did not care. He stared along the line, there were three of them they could do this provided nothing else went wrong.

He suddenly heard more blasterfire coming from behind them, I thudded into the tree he was behind. “What the f....” [/i]Simo felt a rifle butt being driven into his face and he crashed into the tree. He looked up dazed and Drey was taking aim at the Duros and Transdoshan

[Ghostie]

<<I've got ya' covered. Smoke 'em burc'ya!>>

Burc'ya, not a word Ethan would've used to describe Horst. Not now at least, though he had used it in the past. Part of Ethan wanted to get mad, call Horst out on it. They weren't friends right now, they were just soldiers in a group fighting for a common cause, and in this case for survival. That didn't make them instantly buddies again.

But then the blaster fire brought Ethan back to reality. He could get mad after they smoked all these aliens.

Both Weequays were down, and the hunters had dove for cover from Horst's repeater. It seemed that most of them were taken by surprise, not expecting Ethan and Horst to be so heavily armed in the middle of the jungle.

Ethan leaned out of the cover with his rifle again, ready to put some more of the hunters down. However, it was then that he witnessed what was really going on. The only human in the group, the young one, fired on the other Weequay, killing him. After that, he bashed the Rodian's face in with his rifle and then took aim on the other hunters.

What had once been a simple firefight turned into complete chaos. It seemed one really knew who they were suppose to be firing at now, even Ethan. If that human was willing to turn on his own, that fine with The Mandalorian for now. But that didn't mean he trusted him anymore.

The human fired on the Trandoshan, but the large alien didn't go down just yet. Trandoshans were mighty, able to rival wookiees. They wouldnt go down from one shot. Ethan aimed on the large, lizard like being as well and fired a couple of shots, both of which the Trandoshan caught in the back.

The human then turned to the Duros, who was drawing his pistol to deal with the traitor. But the young man killed the Duros as well, effectively ending the group, except for the dazed Rodian. Ethan kept his rifle trained on the human, just in case, but the younger man seemed to let his guard down.

The hunter seemed to be formulating a plan, as it took him awhile to decide on his next course of action. Throwing his rifle on the ground with a sickening sound from the mud, he yelled out to Ethan and Horst.

“I surrender, I'm coming out!”

Ethan did at this point as well, raising his rifle and meeting Horst in the middle. He looked the larger man up and down a moment, along with the dirty repeater. He'd done well, but that was his job. This didn't change anything.

“Just cause we smoked some idiots doesn't mean anything. And don't use that word.”

Ethan said in the low voice to the Engineer. Hopefully Horst hadn't thought the opposite. Turning towards the now unarmed hunter, Ethan stared at him a moment before starting to question their captive.

“What's your name son?”

“I'm Drey. Sorry about the mess, but it was the only way to get that Rodian to come out. He's a deserter, from the Republic, large bounty on his head. I thought if he went after two large bounties such as yourselves, I could finally capture him.”

Ethan looked the Rodian over, who was still somewhat slumped against the tree. This Drey guy had hit him hard. If the Rodian was a deserter, like Drey had said, Ethan could cash in a large bounty for Spearpoint. However, just because the hunter had said it, didn't make it true. Drey had fired on his own team, and on Ethan and Horst. The man could say anything to get out of trouble.

“Right. Horst, check 'im out.”

Ethan nodded at the Rodian.

[Fromikeable]

The thunder of Horst's repeater died as a shoot-out sounded from behind the brush. Horst wasted no time in letting his finger off the firing trigger (though he kept the revolving mechanism spinning, unwilling to let his guard down) and moving up, coming through the brush just in time to see a young human kid put a blaster bolt in the head of a Duro.

Horst stared at him menacingly; whatever this guy's aim was, he'd just killed one of his own. Horst hadn't seen the majority of the shoot-out, and he was guessing that Ethan had helped, but even still, something didn't sit right in him about this. So when the human threw down his gun and surrendered, Horst was suspicious to say the least.

Emerging from some cover with Ethan a few meters away, Horst allowed his frie... his counter-part to take aim at the human. Ethan made his displeasure with Horst's choice of words pretty damn clear, not even bothering to say it in Mandalorian; a bad, bad sign. In truth, the word had slipped out unintentionally; between Horst's tongue of lead and his mind's focus on battle at the time, the utterance had undergone exactly 0.0% consideration.

Horst sighed. Kinda' wish it had.

As the human offered up an explanation, Horst finally released his rotational trigger, still glaring at the kid suspiciously. His story didn't match up; why come after two large bounties just to draw out one more? Did he intend to take them all? Horst glanced at Ethan, as if to ask if he believed a word this kid was speaking. He wanted to ask in Mandalorian, but considering the terms he and his compatriot were on, he simply responded to the alibi with a gruff, "Uh-huh."

Ethan then asked (well, ordered) Horst to check on the Rodian next to the human, who Horst had mistook for a corpse.

Setting his repeater down next to Ethan, Horst slowly made his way over to the Rodian, eyeing the human kid the entire time. Being shot at tended to make him incredibly distrustful, and as he frisked the unconscious body with antennae, he tried to think of a potential way to win Ethan's trust back a little. He couldn't do anything right now, of course, other than not shoot the guy and do his job... but... later?

Frak, I dunno. Horst had always let his relationships grow naturally. He was stumped in terms of actually directing them consciously, even with friends.

Stripping the Rodian of a pistol, a knife, a few flash-bangs, and all of his ammunition, Horst picked the man up to pat down his back. The bug's rifle lay off to the side somewhere, so Horst payed it no mind, finishing his frisk before picking up the green man by his collar, shaking him a little in an attempt to stir him.

"Hey stupid. Rise n' shine." He smacked the man's face a few times, perhaps a little harder than was necessary.

[Juzt]

Simo, was stunned it was almost like he could see what was going on, but could not move. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool. Mercifully the firing seemed to be over, but he was slipping in and out of unconsciousness his eyes glazed over. The next thing he was truly aware of was being called stupid and feeling a large hand slap across his tapiered snout. He could feel somewhere a warm trickle on his head, doubles blood from the rifle butt to the face. As the slaps aggravated and already angry headache Simo passed bewildered, as he looked round and saw Drey surrendering and going all nicey nice with the Spearpoint leader, straight into full blown anger. However, his cold calculator of a brain ran through the scenario.

He was weapon-less the other hunters were dead, and while these two were not really buying what Drey was selling they were at least listening to him. This annoyed Simo a great deal, had it been him in their shoes Drey would have received a shot straight between the eyes before he could open his mouth. They clearly had a degree of soldier still in them, and Simo hated soldiers.

In his glance round, he saw just a little ways way in the bushes a small spy drone. “Ahhhh Mr Colson keeping an eye on his son is he?” He thought to himself as felt himself being pulled to his feet by the Neanderthal Horst. Simo played the dazed and confused Rodian, all the while his brain was churning over ways to get out of this situation. “Wh-What Drey?” He said in his best baffled betrayed voice.

Drey laughed a high unpleasant sound. “You fool! Did you really think my father did not know all about you already. He has fingers in many pies in the Republic. Daddy dearest knew right from the off who you were. Deserting your post nine years ago crippling your commanding officer. Working for Hutts and Crime Lords, I wonder how many of your employers end up dead and injured.”

“Hopefully one more.” Simo thought coldly.

Drey spoke to Horst “Take very great care with him, he is a dangerous psychopath. He has loyalty only to him. Frankly Gentlemen, my Father could care less about you guys, he hates the Sith and you go out there and do them damage and that is fine by him.”

He smiled and a slightly strange look crossed his face “Daddy dearest is a patriot of sorts, and Simo is far more valuable to him.”

Simo recognised a diversionary tactic when he saw one. The boy was being clever, very clever, trying to focus Ethan and Horst's attention on to Simo and away from himself. He doubted they would entirely buy it, but it would give Drey enough time to work out his own plan. Plus who were they more likely to trust the one who lay down arms voluntarily or Simo? Simo was angry that the boy's father had found out so much about him, clearly this was a method of holding Simo to account if he proved to be difficult to work with. Or maybe they had planned to get the bounty on these two and then realised Simo himself was a wanted Rodian and pick up three nice bounties. However, Drey had gone overboard surely they were worth more alive.

Simo remained silent to see what the two guys from Spearpoint would do.