My Kind of Town - [Kaya]

[Harukei]

Anya sighed under her helmet as she trained her carbine on the bounty, a Mordageen that attempted to make a run through the clutter of people on the rusted platforms that were quite common on the lower levels Nar Shaddaa. As seedy and unsavory as the moon of Nal Hutta could be, she had to admit, even the grime and garbage of the upper most, still crime ridden upper levels of the ecumenopolis, looked like a shining example of a well organized neighborhood.

Still the populace did little to bother her. Few people would get her way between a Mandalorian and her prey. And thus as she slowly moved through the opening sea of beings from the galaxy, the audio receptors of her helmet pick up the distinct high pitched screams of her target as he made ran for his life. The HUD in front of her amber eyes would scroll and then remove unimportant information of her environment, highlighting the barely looking biped. He was just still in target range of her carbine and he didn't even try to strafe or cut through intersection or doorway. 

The Mandalorian supposed that she should take the advantage that he was giving her. Anya took a knee and trained the rifle on the distant running figure. The data feed of her scope displaying into her HUD, showing the back of the target. The stock of her carbine pressed neatly against her shoulder, her hand holding the barrel with a tight grip as her index finger caressed the curvature of the trigger. Her aim shifted from his back to the calf of his left leg. She pulled the trigger one, feeling the low recoil against her shoulder and observed how the blaster bolt boiled it's way through the air, hitting the target on the designated area. 

She rose and walked casually as the male held his leg with a pained look. Noticing her, he seized his blaster pistol, aiming to gun her down before he would capture. However he wasn't fast enough as Anya's experience and reflexes allowed her to raise the rifle once more, the bolt this time scorching the fleshy fingers of the sentient, forcing him to release his howl on the blaster pistol, and a howl of pain which did little to gather any attention from the bystanders.

"You know." Anya said as she stood before him, a smile behind the faceplate of her helmet. Her HUD highlighting the name of the bounty and confirming the target as Syam Zabi. Easy hundred thousand credits indeed. "I've met bad smugglers, If it serves as consolation, you don't cut among the worse three." 

"Please.... Please.... let me go..." The Mordageen pleaded as he crawled against an old eroded wall. "I'll pay you double.... erm.... triple!" 

"Well, if I hadn't checked your accounts first, I would've considered your offering." She said before switching the setting of the carbine to stun with the flick of a switch, before shooting the ghostly blue wring towards the being, leaving him rigid on the ground. "Then again, I don't want any beef with Raka the Hutt." Her hand went to the integrated data display of her gauntlet, creating a secure COM with her ship and the her astromech droid. "T7, fire up the ship and pick me at level eighty, dock ninety-four." The protest beeps and chirps of her droid came through the COM. "I know it's in a lower level, but I trust you flying the ship." T7 finally complied and cut the COM, she turned towards the stunned being with confidence. "Well handsome, you and I will take a trip."

[Kaya Oren]

And there it was again. That rotten, putrid stench of garbage that always permeated the lower levels of the Hutt's moon. If she hadn't smelled worse before, Kaya's nose might have wrinkled instinctively, but she had hitched a ride on a dug freighter once. This, when compared to that hell, was nothing. It was like comparing flowers to bantha crap. Then again, most of the heaps of rusted, decaying metal in the alleyways she passed looked like bantha crap, so she wouldn't be surprised if it had developed some new use on the black market. An aphrodisiac, perhaps? No, it had gone through that a few months ago, with several rich women paying a few thousand credits for a vial of the viscous feces before the scam was driven out. That had been a good bounty, in fact.

And there was another down here somewhere, another face with a absolutely beautiful number attached to it. Larger than usual, but some people were apparently worth the hassle. It never paid to piss off a Hutt, but enterprising people like Kaya could certainly make a lot of credits out of the deal. The problem, it seemed, was finding him. Nar Shaddaa may have belonged to the Hutts, but its lower levels had never been well regulated. A nearly perfect hiding spot. Unless you had access to someone's accounts, that was.

She was just a few steps away from the door to the well camouflaged smuggling den when a scream cut through the air. Alone among the rest of the inhabitants, her head turned towards it, a small frown hovering on plush lips. Those golden eyes glanced through the crowd, towards the disturbance, just as the telltale sound of a blaster rang out and the screams were cut off in favor of a moaning, babbling voice, still too faint for her to make out. With her frown growing, she shot a glance at the door of the Den, then cursed, setting off.

As slim as she was, Kaya had never needed to push her way through crowds. Her dancing eyes caught the cracks of space, the open air between everyone, and her legs carried her easily through them. It was almost a dance, slipping through towards that open void that had to contain the noises she was hearing. Though it took her a moment, she found herself looking down at a Mordageen. The Mordageen that she was chasing, in point of fact. And standing over him…

The Zeltron had to bite down on her lip roughly to stop from swearing aloud. A Mandalorian. Of course it would be a Mandalorian. What with her luck recently, how could it be anything else? Poaching a bounty target from a fully armored Mandalorian was not at the top of her list of good ideas. Still, it was a neat hundred thousand credits, and that was enough to fill her pockets for a very long time. A few weeks, at the very least. Keep her ship flying, keep her stock of equipment full enough to burst.

With a sigh, she took another look at the armored figure. From its build, she guessed feminine, but it was hard to tell through all the armor, at least until she heard that voice. Definitely a woman. And one with her own connections, enough that she knew full well what was in Syam's accounts. He had spent most of his credits running over the last few months, hiring entire ships just to try and escape, only to come back to Nar Shaddaa penniless. Not his smartest move, and from what she'd read on him, he had never really been that smart to begin with.

So. A Mandalorian. That helmet had all sorts of tech behind the visor, she knew that. Enough to make her smoke grenades effectively useless. Her stun baton as well, and she didn't want to get into a shootout. That carbine would be far more effective than her little blaster. But it was still a longer range weapon. Efficacy limited within a few paces, and that was enough to give her an idea. As the armored woman communicated with what sounded like an astromech droid on her gauntlet, the Zeltron melted back into the crowd, moving her way around until she was behind the Mandalorian. Still, she wasn't going to make a frontal attack, so it was time for her own little brand of chaos. And that took two little tricks of her own.

A flick of her wrist sent a little egg shaped charge skittering along the ground, clattering as it went. With a click, and an accompanying hiss, thick, heavy smoke began to pour out of it, filling the area quickly. But that wasn't enough yet. Flicking her goggles over her eyes, the Zeltron sent a small little disc spinning out, landing it neatly between those armored boots. The EMP charge detonated a moment lated, sending a burst of electromagnetic energy out to fry any expensive electrical systems in a small radius. She had it set on the weakest setting, so it likely wouldn't reach farther than a few feet, but that was all she needed.

The true measure of proper chaos came next. With people starting to hurry out of the way of the building and gathering smoke, she chose her target carefully. Grabbing a dug by two of his arms, she swept her leg under his, throwing him off balance before casually chucking him in the direction of the Mandalorian. Hissing and spitting, he struck the armored figure with limbs flailing, just as the Zeltron darted forward as well, grabbing the stunned smuggler by his arms and backing off into the wild crowd that was running away, swallowed up moments later by the throng of fleeing species. Smoke usually meant the law, or at least as much of one existed this far down, and that was too much trouble for them to deal with. Kaya heaved up the heavy body over her shoulders with a huff, ducking into a nearby alley to get away from the building panic. Time to find a way to the docks. And she couldn't do that while carrying the Mordageen. She wasn't built like a tank, after all.

[Harukei]

It had to be quite the easiest captured for a bounty that she had ever done. How had Raka's goons failed to get wind from a smuggler as bad as this one was something that puzzled her. After all he wasn't the most inconspicuous when it came to travel from star system to star system and with the poignant leads he had unwittingly created the Mandalorian couldn't really imagine someone like him escaping very far. But well, a job was a job and she wasn't about to renounce to such a quantity of easy credits.

However as she was about to take a hold of the stunned Mordageen, a sudden surge of smoke would begin to envelop her surroundings. None of the scanners from her armor showed any spike from energy or heat signature that invited to believe. It was then, when a small click sounded and the HUD of her helmet began to flicker in and out of life, the system struggling to keep up as the hardened circuits and cybernetics of the armor fought to keep in operation until the discharge ended. It was then than Anya would turn, attempting to gain a glance of who had done that. However instead of answers she would only see the flying frame of a hissing red Dug that crashed against her with force.

The woman fell down, the blaster carbine that she held so proudly falling and skidding to a side over the worn and rusted walkway of the lower level. She herself would fall with a grunt, thankfully the padded insides of her helmet protecting her head from any serious damage. Attempting to seize a sense of direction she would turn her head around, seeing the unmistakable sight of someone carrying a pink skinned humanoid. Where it not for the hair and pointy ears, anyone could say that it could be even a rather deformed Twi'lek. 

Slapping the Dug of her, ignoring the expletives the sentient being would be likely directing at her in Duguese, Anya would attempt to regain her footing, slightly skidding at first, taking her carbine by the barrel and then holding it in a normal fashion as she began a full sprint through the clutter of beings as her mind begun to process what had happened. Had this being a rescue by some unforeseen ally of the Mordageen? As far as she knew, Zabi wasn't exactly known to have many friends. In fact she was fairly certain that those who he called friends only tolerated the useless being because they made them laugh.

The next thing she could think as a possibility was, very predictably, another bounty hunter. Given the MO that had being used to knock her down momentarily and take the target, it was very likely that such was the case. Which meant bad news for her if the one that had taken her out had escaped in a speeder. Even if she ran in what she thought it was the direction the person who had attacked her had decided to take Zabi away, given the propensity of personal transports flying around the ecumenopolis air lanes, she was going to have a very bad time tracking them, in fact she was sure that it was likely that they would vanish.

But by now means she was going to allow this to be settled like this. The gaze of her amber eyes behind the faceplate would shift between the shady stands, entrance to cantinas, brothels and other questionable establishments. It was until she ran to stand, gripping the collar of a scared Rodian, pulling the reptilian being towards her, until he could see the reflection of his star freckled eyes on the void features of the T-shaped visor.

"Someone carrying or dragging a Mordageen. Have you seen something like that?" She asked, her voice stern, making the Rodian shopkeeper turn nervous. Each second was one she wasted. "I won't ask again. Have you seen someone doing that and where?!"

The Rodian would nod in agreement. Pointing his proboscis finger tip towards an alley. Anya would simply nod, leaving her grip of the reptilian sentient as she made her way towards the alley with a decided step. She supposed that she couldn't simply march there. Such a confined space was a good place for a trap and to hold off anyone. Her gloved hand dove into one of the pouches that hung from her belt. Extracting a small round object, priming it with a flick from her thumb. The sound dampers of her helmet activated. 

Anya would then begin draw and arc with her arm, the round object flying into the darkness, the only hint of it's existence being the metallic click it made as it landed and the sound it made as it rolled even further into the darkness. It was then that throughout the darkness a shriek emerged, for her she would only receive a muffled example of the sound. But for the rest of the clutter on the walkway, it would mean pain, the sound of glass breaking inside the alley as the oscillating pulses of sound would rebound time and time again from wall to wall, the setting wasn't meant to kill but to stun. Once it was done and the womp-rats that had lived vacated the area, she simply marched, rifle at the ready, trigger finger poised to shoot anything that would act even remotely hostile.

[Kaya Oren]

She had very little time. That thought kept bouncing around in her head, reverberating there as she dropped the unconscious smuggler on the ground rather unceremoniously. This was a Mandalorian she was dealing with here, though she hadn't thought many of them still worked this particular field, what with the tensions brewing elsewhere. The little trick of hers had worked largely because it had caught the armored woman by surprise. She doubted it would work again, and most likely, she was already overstaying her welcome in this little Alley.

The Zeltron cast her eyes about with a small frown, glancing about through the scanning function of her goggles. Rust, dirt, garbage, and… there! This was the junkyard of Nar Shaddaa, after all, and even when it was dented, beat up, and pockmarked with plaster burns, a shielded hull panel would still protect anything behind it from the level of scans that could be done by any portable device like her goggles or that Mandalorian's helmet. Bending, she heaved the Mordageen into a pile of rubbish, grunting slightly as she tugged the heavy slab of paneling over the top of it. Moments later, the smuggler had simply disappeared, surrounded by scraps of ugly metal and various refuse, buried in a pile of discarded ship parts. That would keep him safe from prying eyes and scans, at least for a little while.

Next on the docket of protecting, however, was her own damn skin. There was little doubt in her mind that the woman likely had just as many tricks up her sleeve as she did, so it was unlikely she wanted to hang around in a space as confined as this. Easy to set up a trap, but she herself was cornered already. Any type of grenade or area of effect weapon, and she was down for the count without a hope in the world. No, there were better ways to deal with this. Pushing her goggles back up onto her forehead, she looked aloft, scanning the nearby walls for nooks, crannies, anything she could dig into. And there was something better.

Backing off from the wall, the Zeltron made a running start, her pace taking her several steps up the dilapidated building until she twisted and shoved off with both legs, flying through the air. Even with that, her fingers barely managed to hook onto the railing of the above balcony, a gasp forced from her lips as she slammed into the wall. Gritting her teeth, she heaved herself up and over the railing, slipping onto the balcony and starting to work her way upward. It was by no means a tall building, but the further she could get from what was coming, the better off she would be.

The sounds from outside the alley were dying down, meaning that people were no longer walking around the entrance. And that could only mean one thing. A quick glance downward confirmed her suspicions. The Mandalorian was approaching, and if the Zeltron knew anything of body language, she was pretty pissed. Of course, she probably didn't need to know anything of body language to recognize that. Anyone who had been smoked, EMP'd, and then had a Dug thrown at them would likely be exceedingly aggravated, but not recklessly so. She caught the little glint of something metallic flying into the alley, but had distanced herself far enough from the ground that the explosion merely set her ears to ringing, a few quick blinks of her eyes clearing them.

Taking a deep breath, and offering a quick glance skyward, she slipped from the balcony, edging her way along some piping that was set out from the dingy wall. It was broad enough to keep her mostly hidden from any glances from beneath, but it would also, and more importantly, bear her weight. She couldn't leave the Mordageen alone. The Mandalorian would probably find him soon enough, if she was dedicated to clawing her way through a pile of garbage, at any rate.

This was a stupid idea, and she knew that. But there were a lot of credits riding on this, and she's spent the better part of a week working through the idiot's accounts. Her one and only saving grace thus far was that this woman seemed to prefer ranged combat. At least, that was her guess, if the rather impressive nature of the carbine cradled in those armored hands was any indication. But she wasn't going to underestimate a Mandalorian. That never ended up going well, as far as she had heard.

Swearing under her breath, the Zeltron stepped from the piping and into the open air, all of her weight crashing down on the back of the advancing armored figure. Instantly, she wrapped her legs tightly around the woman's stomach, her hands free to work, attempting to pry that helmet off, nimble fingers searching for the clasps along the neckline as she worked hurriedly. Surprise was on her side. But only for a moment.

[Harukei]

A lifetime of constant training had taught Anya to always check every place which she might have considered a position from where anyone could take shelter and hide. It was a very basic principle that, at this point of her life, was etched very deeply into her subconscious. In her hands the carbine's muzzle would point at different directions as she closed her distance to them, scanning them for a second, being very methodical about her approach to each container, garbage can, rusted durasteel box and remains of vermin that had being inside the blast radius of her sonic detonator. All was silent, save the sound of her boots crushing the crystal from broken windows or bottles that had held a beverage in the past, all disseminated over the alley 

The Pantoran had a hard time believing that heaving the body of the Morgadeen had being a simple affair. After all the sentient being was not exactly the most nimble, and given it's approximate weight it was very unlikely that someone had made it far. Specially given the sonic blast that had engulfed the alleys, magnified due the echo produced by the walls. Either the bounty hunter that had taken the Mordageen was wearing a personalized suit that would protect anyone from discharges like that one, or simply she was dealing with someone who was deaf.

However before she could try to think of another option, once more she felt as if something had collided against her. She fell on top of her chest, once more her carbine skidding to, crashing against a set of poorly placed duraplast boxes. For an instant the T-shaped visor of the helmet gave her a hint of what she was seeing, a first road look at the worn and glass covered pavement. Groaning and then cursing under her breath she remembered the other facet of her early training that she had seemingly forgotten during the search within the darkened alley. She had forgotten to cover her back. 

Slowly coming out of the surprise that the sneak attack brought, she considered her position at the moment. However had attacked her before and had decided to take the bounty for their own needs had actually made the work for her, after all, she had no longer a need to take look for the competitor bounty hunter. Taking a moment to gather information, she surmised that due the weight and body shape, however had attacked her was a humanoid and most likely a female, or a very emaciated male. It didn't matter anyways.

What did matter however, was the intrusion that she felt, and which was brought to her attention even further by the HUD of helmet, as she felt a fiddling of slender fingers attempting to pry open the magnetic seal between her helmet and the formfitting body suit of her armor. The Pantoran was pissed, not only had she'd being attacked while claiming the bounty that was rightfully hers, but also someone had decided to take the credit for herself. However more aggravating, was the attempt to remove her armor. It was pay back time.

The fingers of her gloved hand reached for a handful of crystals before her, sharp enough for their edge and points to be felt through the layers of protection of her palm. The Mandalorian judged where the legs of the woman that was over her back where, and with a backwards swing she would aim to stab her assailant with the puncturing shards on the leg. With another move she jump press her hands against the soil, in an attempt to unbalance the female from her hold. With a final shove she would leave the hold of her assailant, turning to meet her and confirming what she had thought. It was a woman after all. 

[Kaya Oren]

Well, this wasn't working. Sure, the Mandalorian had toppled forward, but the armor was much harder to remove than the Zeltron had anticipated. There were no easy clasps that she could feet, and the helmet itself remained quite firmly in place as she scrabbled around it. Karking magnetic seals, of course. Nothing she could do about that from outside the armor, and she knew the woman wasn't going to let her inside it. Shame. She had just a few moments to think, though and she could already feel the armor stirring beneath her. Her element of surprise was waning.

She couldn't really run. Of course, she might be faster, but there was a hundred thousand credits waiting under one of the nearby trash piles. Anything involving blasters was utterly out of the question as well. And that was her first move, eyes spotting the carbine that had slid away, leaning out, she wrapped her slender fingers on it, pulling it away and chucking it towards the entrance of the alley. Hopefully, some enterprising individual would take care of it for her, but given the Mandalorian markings that undoubtedly could be seen on it somewhere, there likely weren't any individuals crazy enough to try it.

But her time was up. She spotted that hand reaching forward to try and grab some of the shards lying across the floor of the alley. Time to move. As the shard of crystal swung back at her leg, she released her grip, twisting to the side with a dancer's flexibility and tucking her leg back safely out of the way as she cartwheeled backward on her hands, landing neatly on her feet and lifting a hand to tuck a stray strand of purple hair away from her golden eyes, huffing a little, one plush lip pushed out in a pout. Resting her hands on her hips, she lifted her gaze to face down the armored woman, a frown hovering over those dark lips. It was an oddly disconcerting sight from the woman so often found with a smile hovering there instead.

"Damn." She muttered, her voice soft, still oddly warm and pleasant, given the circumstances. "You are hard as a rock, you know that?" A flash in her eyes gave away the humor behind the words. Not the best time for it, perhaps, but mirth was generally how she handled stressful situations, and this was certainly no exception. The Zeltron rolled her shoulders slightly, letting her coat settle a little more firmly over her frame. As usual, she was dressed more for style, but the slim crop-top left her navel bare for flexibility, and the form-fitting pants she wore certainly did nothing to impede her either. "So what now, oh huntress? Bent on killing me? Not that I could blame you. I've been a little obnoxious, I must admit."

[Harukei]

"I was trained well." Was her only response to what she had to take a compliment. Anya analyzed the situation with care. She had lost her blaster carbine in the sneak attack she had performed, but at least her armor was still in one piece, thus she conserved her primary tactical advantage. While to her assailant the armor could be seen as cumbersome and heavy, for her it was far from the contrary. Although she had to suppose that unlike her, the woman, a Zeltron by the looks of it, had the poor fortune of not receiving a training like the one she had from early childhood. Well it was certainly a shame.

Given what the Rodian had said, there had only being one person carrying Zabi. It had to be her. Although there was always a possibility for someone else working with the female Zeltron, given the nature of the profession they shared it was most likely that she worked alone. Also the initial assault gave much evidence to that as in her experience a coordinated unit could very well had killed her instead of simply neutralizing her momentarily. But more important the best piece of information that she had given her was the fact that due the angle of attack and the direction Anya was heading, it was very likely that either she had killed Zabi there or she had decided to hide him as she dealt with him. 

"I would be a liar if I didn't admit the idea of killing you didn't cross my mind." Anya responded in a cheerful tone, processed through the voice philter of her helmet. In fact, she couldn't say that it was not something a part of her was itching to do. But in the end it didn't really served to any purpose, true she might take out a bit of competition whenever she had the chance to go out bounty hunting during her off times from the Mandalorian military. But aside soiling her armor with Zeltron blood there was not much appeal to it. And also, time was clicking against her, the duration of the stun wasn't exactly known to last for hours. It was better to tag and bag this affair. 

"I won't kill you. But I do have a question for you." The Mandalorian said, the hint of a smile behind the visor as her hand moved to retrieve another round object from one of the pouches that hung from her belt. "How much to you appreciate your ear drums?" The Pantoran held the device in her hand at shoulder level, thumb resting over the switch of activation. Another sonic detonator ready to be primed at her command. "Actually don't answer it." The sonic bafflers of her armor engaged and with a flick of her thumb the detonator activated, falling to the ground as she loosened her grip around the round object. A metallic clink would herald the piercing shriek that came from the device. 

The HUD of her armor flickered for an instant as she turned, even inside the sealed environment of the armor she could feel the sonic waves crashing against the beskar that made the plates of her armor. Whatever glass that wasn't broken did with the second discharge and she didn't plan to be part of it. As she made her way to what she thought it was a junkyard, her hand dove again into one of the pouches, this time retrieving a thermal detonator. With careful precaution she began to prepare it, timing it and then sticking it to one of the walls of the alley that led into the junkyard. 

She began her approach, hoping that the Mordageen was indeed hidden somewhere. Otherwise that would have been for naught. Just as she begun her search she would hear the scream die at the distance. Which meant that the thermal detonator had about ten seconds to go out. She would only look, but after the explosion blossomed and vaporized the section of the wall that she had selected, the effect she had planned came to fruition, as now the building who had lost a section of the wall came tumbling, blocking the path and buying her time. If the Zeltron woman had died, then bad luck. Otherwise none of her concern. Setting the scanners of her armor to look she began to sweep through the junk and the galaxy knew what other wastes laid in the search for Zabi. 

[Kaya Oren]

Kaya hadn't been trained from a young age. Not in warfare and combat strategies, anyway. No, she was a dancer to her core, and that light, flighty movement carried through everything she did, even touching her personality. After all, ever since she had gotten her hands on a ship, she had never spent more than a month on any one planet, vastly preferring to move from place to place. Nothing was going to tie her down. And she had yet to find anything worth sticking around for. If this didn't end up working out, there was a smaller grab a few levels down that she had been looking at, but that would barely be enough to keep her flying for a few more weeks. Not that it would matter. Nar Shaddaa was a perfect place for hunting down the scattered dredges of the criminal community. No law interfering, no civilians getting in the way. Kaya would be fine.

That said and done, she was not happy with the current state of affairs. Who would be? Spending two weeks dredging her way through credit accounts and following the messy trail of this smuggler, only to have him sniped away from her less than a few minutes before she could get there? Literally, in this case, as that blaster carbine had proven quite effective at a range. Less effective now, out of reach of its owner, but… that was beyond the point. There were still a few tools in the Mandalorian's pouch, if that earlier sonic explosion was any indication.

Kaya didn't really have a response. It didn't seem like the woman was waiting for one, which was impolite, but it made sense, given the situation they found themselves in. But there was another sonic detonator in that gloved hand. That little comment about eardrums gave it away all too well. But there was some solace to be found in that fact. She'd seen if before. Sonic detonators had a limited effective range where the noise could actually cause a lasting impaired state. In a tight, focused corridor like this, the range was extended significantly, but she had no intentions of remaining inside it. As the Mandalorian's hand loosened its grip, the Zeltron was already springing backwards, springing on her hands as she sped towards the exit.

She made it just in time, but even so, she tucked herself into an incredibly tight ball, that dancer's flexibility coming in use once more as she tucked her knees up over her ears, squeezing down tight and wrapping her arms around them as well. Not incredibly comfortable, but the shockwave still aided in her flight, sending her flying out of the alley into the open air, head ringing but otherwise unmarred as she hit the ground in a tight roll. She came out of it on her feet, already starting to head back towards the alley, but before she could even get within five paces of it, another explosion rang out, one of the dilapidated building crumbling and pouring masonry into the hole.

The Zeltron paused. She had ways of getting through the rubble, but that would threaten to exhaust all of her current supplies. No, there were better ways of getting through this. Easily, she bent, her gloved hand wrapping around the stock of the carbine she had sent spinning away earlier, twirling it idly in her hands as she thought. Grenades or not, she knew where the Mandalorian was headed, having over heard that conversation with what she could only assume to be an astromech droid.

"Dock ninety-four." She hummed, slinging the carbine over her back and stepping off. It wasn't even a long walk, and with that rubble, she knew that she could get there before the armored woman. Besides, her own ship was only two bays down in ninety-six, so she would even have a chance to resupply. It was only a quick ten minute jog to the docking area, give or take a few more to get to the proper docks. So she set off at a light run, leaving the crumbled building and a few confused individuals behind as she headed off towards her ship.

She was still humming when she arrived, the light run leaving her a little flushed, but none the worse for wear, certainly not after she reached the ramp of her ship. It only took a few moments to replenish her supplies, though she exchanged a few smoke grenades for something a little more hazardous to the local environment. Tasks completed, she locked the Raven's Ghost up tightly behind her as she went on her way, heading towards the hangar that the Mandalorian's ship would be in, whether it was there already or on its way. She had some preparations to make…

[Harukei]

She had to be thankful that the rebreather of her helmet filtered the atmosphere. Even for being a junkyard predominantly filled with metallic and electronic compounds, some of the things she had seen while looking for the Mordageen were cringe worthy. In fact at some point she had being sure to caught the moving of something looking very much like the eye stalk of a dianoga. It would take her about five minutes to finally locate Zabi, who was slowly regaining control of his limbs. Upon noticing that someone was staring at him and realizing it was his first captor. Attempting to escape only over parts. 

"Hello handsome." She said while approaching to him, delivering a solid punch that knocked the being out. "You really didn't forget me, did you?"

With that, Anya surmised that part of the job was done. Then again, given the tenacity of her competition, it was very likely that there could be another ambush. And without her primary weapon such encounter was not something she really wanted to experience. Standing over the knocked down Mordageen, the Mandalorian opened a COM link with her ship and her droid. Giving the way the Zeltron woman fought it was better to be cautious than pay the consequences later. Chirping T7 announced that his ETA to the dock was a couple of minutes. 

"No, T7, abort landing, I don't care if you already paid the fee." She said as her mind raced as ideas would surge. "Fly back to the surface levels. Track on my IFF tag and pick me up. I'll meet you once I am up there. Oh and... get the weapons hot... Just in case." After the droid accepted her commands and put her plan on the way, she now had to think on a way of leaving the junkyard and the under levels of Nar Shaddaa. Since she couldn't grown a pair of wings and do that herself, there had to be something around that could be used as a getaway vehicle. 

The Mandalorian would look around, noting only but junk, scrapped vehicles, parts that were rusting as they rested over murky ponds that indeed had to hold a Dianoga. Nothing promising until she could hear the whining of repulsorlift engines. She would turn her head, the T-shaped visor reflecting the touchdown of a hoverbus that had seemingly being refit to ferry workers to their stations. Humans, Ugnaughts, Rodians and other species that worked here. She had to suppose that this was her ticket out of this junkyard. 

Carrying the Mordageen as if it were a sack, she would move with an adamant step towards the bus. The workers either trying to make sense of the damage to the buildings near the junkyard, or simply moving out of the way of a Mandalorian who was carrying what they assumed was a bounty. She stepped into the vehicle tossing the unconscious Mordageen against one of the padded seats. As she headed unto the driver's seat, an overweight Besalisk stepped into her view. "Who do you think you are?!" The male with a thick mustache said, it's gelatinous wattle quivering in anger at the Mandalorian.

"I am taking this rusted bucket of bolts." Anya simply said. As she finished her sentenced, the male Besalisk had one of his four arms go to the blaster that hung from it's very hidden belt. Even before he could get a chance to aim, the Pantoran ran to him, shoulder tackling the massive being. Her hand would wrap around his and twist, forcing him to drop the blaster pistol. Finally the warrior would deliver a headbutt against the orifices that passed as a nose for his species, making him stumble out of the transport. Picking the blaster from the ground she would inspect it for a second before turning to the downed and groaning male. "I am borrowing this too." She would punch one of the control panels, shutting the door close before finally stepping into the drivers seat. 

Since she didn't have the activation sequence, she began to go through the panel, exposing circuitry, peeling some of the cables and then hoping that by making contact between the hoverbus would begin to run and that in case it didn't work, that the transport didn't explode. Thankfully it came to life, the repulsorlift engines not roaring as a krayt dragon, instead doing so like a farting Hutt. Also at first handling like that. She had to guess the vehicles choose to move with the same stickiness as it felt. 

Pushing the vehicles she would begin to climb to the 'surface' level of Nar Shadaa. Truly she supposed that if she could fly a transport like this one, she could indeed boast that she could fly any ship in the galaxy. Once she had gone through the service tunnels and merged to the outgoing traffic that led unto what most people thought the Hutt moon was, she fired up her IFF tag. Hoping that the droid would zero in it. "Well... Here goes nothing." 

[Kaya Oren]

There was a decision to be made here. To go through with this increasingly mind numbingly stupid plan, or to cut her losses and move on. By all rights, it really wasn't that hard of a choice, when faced with the facts. Sure, she had the Mandalorian's primary weapon, and the armored woman had showed no sign of being exceptionally proficient at melee combat, but that made no difference at all when she had no idea where the woman was. At first, she had assumed that the woman would show up here, but upon revisiting that particular assumption, it wasn't an intelligent one. After all the hassle she'd visited on the other bounty under, it was only natural that the woman's original plans would change. And that meant that her own had to as well.

Any passers-by in the level eighty docks were treated to a harsh glance, most of them deciding to move quickly on their way as they passed by the pink-skinned woman, who was, by all appearances, juggling what looked suspiciously like explosive charges. Well, they were explosive charges, and the Zeltron was juggling them, so their assumptions were, for the most part, correct. Naturally, they were exceptionally stable, unable to explode without being primed, but most inhabitants of the lower levels were cautious as a rule.

Sensing her presence, the ramp of the Raven's Ghost lowered as she approached it, granting her access before sliding smoothly shut behind her. Sometimes, she wished that karking motor would just slam, granting her a bit of stress relief, but there were other ways to work out one's frustrations. There was a particularly talented dancer up on level fifteen… Shirelle, that was her name. Smooth skin, plush lips, and a face that could stop a room. If only the males that fawned over her knew that she preferred the fairer gender. Not that such things really mattered to Kaya.

Still, that wouldn't get her any more money, even if it did let her blow off steam in a way that was socially acceptable to most. Chucking the explosives into the locker that she usually stored them in, the young bounty hunter slammed it shut with a huff, stalking up to the glass encapsulated bridge and flopping her slender body down into one of the secondary stations, pulling up the display. The local bounty boards hadn't changed significantly in the last few hours. A few more small time crooks who crossed the wrong local boss, so on and so forth. Hell, there wasn't even anything within the same system. A few bail jumpers, some low priority cases, but nothing even worth the trip.

Unslinging the carbine she had stolen from her shoulder and resting it in her lap, she let her fingers idly play along its smooth frame as she browsed the data before her. At least she might be able to pawn it off on the local Black Market for a few thousand. And that would get her along for a while. Wasn't every day a carbine from a Mandalorian came up for sale. And there were a few collectors out there, she knew that much from a bounty she'd nabbed a few months previously.

There was still that job a few levels down, and that was a neat five thousand for something that would only take her no more than a few hours. Combined with the rifle, she would be able to scrape by for a bit. But the loss of the Mordageen smuggler was still fresh and raw, twisting her insides into a tight knot as her knuckles paled on the panel. That wound wouldn't go away for a few hours, at least. Maybe she should go and see that dancer after all… After all, a few hours of fun never hurt anything.

Sighing, she rose from the seat and headed towards the front of the ship, leaving the carbine behind as she slid into that pilot's chair, fingers darting over the switches as she brought her ship's engines purring to life. It was just another dance, this blurred motion of hands and fingers, one to be choreographed and practiced, bringing those powerful turbines and reactors to a resounding roar as the long, narrow vessel heaved itself into the air, spinning neatly in place as she brought it around to face the docking bay's gates.

Nursing the controls, Kaya brought the Ghost out into the main thoroughfare, checking the scanners before thumbing the vertical lifting thrusters in the wings to full, sending the ship rocketing upward, the grim walls of the various levels rushing past as she shot towards the upper reaches of the planet. Not that she was being exceedingly careful. A few small speeders darted to the side, the riders making extremely aggravated gestures in her direction as she continued up. There was some fun to be had awaiting her, and she hated being stressed.