Killer Queen {LFG, Tenk}

[Ghostie]

The following thread takes place during Movement I of the Archeri Invasion

---

In Aren's humble opinion, every cantina on Tatooine was exactly the same.

The same dusty, sandstone steps leading down into a large, elongated oval of a room. The same bar, with the same middle-aged man with a sour look attending it. The same rounded booths hidden alcoves lining the walls, hiding beings of dozens of species and worlds in their shadows, all making the same illicit deals. The same Bith band on the small stage in front of the bar, playing the same, upbeat tunes across Tatooine. And whether it was Achorhead, Bestine, or Mos Espa, Aren was quite sure that he had tasted the same watered down swill in all three settlements. Which was ironic to the Mandalorian, as water on Tatooine was a precious commodity. And as one was on as miserable a planet as Tatooine, who would want to water down the alcohol?

Nonetheless he supposed this particular cantina, a place called ‘The Drenched Dewback’, which was tucked into a corner of Mos Espa not far from the spaceport, was decent enough by Tatooine standards. The band seemed to sense when the patrons would get tired of the same song over and over, and switched up the notes a bit. The staff was not always so impersonal with their customers as to give them the cold shoulder. And the booze wasn't so watered down as to keep Aren from ordering a second bottle from his spot at the bar once the first was empty. And another point in their favor was the fried crispics, of which about half a plate was left on the counter between Reeve and Aren, who were sitting side-by-side.

Reeve Dyson. Vanel's son. Aren's son. Aren was still getting used to the idea of having a son. On Abregado-Rae, everything had been such a rush. The Mandalorian had broken the Kid out of jail, they had fought off the local security forces together, and then made it to the spaceport just in time for a final showdown with Reeve's Step-Father. There hadn't been time for Aren to process everything, with all of that happening at the same time. But in the few weeks since the pair's daring escape, Aren was still working things over in his mind. Why had Vanel never told him of Reeve before? Aren was sure she had her reasons, but it wasn't like he could ask her. What was Aren supposed to do with Reeve, now? The Kid was grown; he didn't need someone to teach him how to tie his shoes and discipline him. And yet at the same time, Aren was sure that Reeve didn't need a father who was more of a friend than a parent, either. The Mandalorian, for his part, was lost.

Still, as the weeks had dragged on, Aren found himself studying Reeve more and more. A lingering glance here, a second take there. The kid was smart. Damn smart. Aren knew that didn't come from his side. And Reeve had a good head on his shoulders. But under that was a rage that the Mandalorian had dared not cross, yet, with the same drive he had seen in himself before. They shared many of the same mannerisms, and the same habits, each one pulling on Aren's heart a little more when he saw it from the Kid. They even liked many of the same foods, which was the reason for the crispy rolls of fried meat and the twin bottles of beer. As Aren drained his second, keeping a moderate if somewhat slow pace, the barkeeper came over, his large bushy moustache moving as he talked.

“You wanna 'nother?”

“Nah, thanks.” Aren replied, before turning to Reeve. “Get the Drifter squared away, Ad'ika?”

The Kid had even show an interest in bounty hunting and mercenary work. Work with which Aren was quite intimately familiar. It hadn't taken much more than for Aren to explain that was how he made his modest fortune, which had been modest enough to put up a nearly quarter million credits for Reeve's freedom without so much as a hesitant thought, to catch the Kid's attention. For as much as Aren tried to dissuade Reeve from such a career choice with his most violent tales, well, the Kid was as stubborn as his Old Man, sometimes. And even though the Mandalorian was trying to retire from his work in the fringes of Space and focus on his Clan, he figured that his Son would at least be relatively safe, if he came along with him.

That was reason number one for their patronage in 'The Drenched Dewback’. Reason number two was the job itself.

Truth be told, Aren didn't know the specifics of the job ahead of the pair. Normally, that would make even the Mandalorian pause for a moment, like any sane being. But the person who did know the specifics was scheduled to meet them at any moment, and had chosen this cantina specifically. And that person was none other than Skylar Zenar. Aren had met Skylar during a little misadventure on Nar Shaddaa, which included a showdown with the Herglic bounty hunter Gantu, as well as a few Sith assassins. Jedi, Dark Jedi, Sith… Aren wasn't sure he knew what Skylar was. Nor was he sure that Skylar knew what she was. But the Mandalorian did know that she was the first Force-user he had the pleasure of meeting and not ending. And after their last little escapade, she had Aren's respect as a formidable bounty hunter and general fighter in her own right. At the very least, he could trust Skylar to not double-cross him. When she had commed him with another job that promised a large payday, Aren had jumped on it. It sounded like what Reeve needed to cut his teeth on, after all.

Plus, the Mandalorian couldn't get it out of his mind just how much of a looker the petite woman was. Looking over his shoulder and to the entrance of the cantina for yet another time, Aren hoped Skylar could recongise him out of his beskar'gam, and in his jacket and plain clothes with only his twin holsters for protection.

“She'll be here, soon.” He muttered, to no one in particular.

[tenkalus]

It was hard not to be impressed by Tatooine, as it was literally one of three planets that Reeve had ever set foot on. He did find however, that it’s scenery and novelty died quite quickly after the third dump of sand from your boots. Coming from a planet that was littered with water, Tatooine’s dune sea was a fascination to Reeve. It well put into perspective the sense of entitlement he had, over simple things like water. The people of Tatooine struggled to live, but that part that really held his attention was the fact that so many of them actually made it.

These people were survivors.

They were a cut above and beyond his own struggles, but it wasn’t a competition at the end of the day. If it were though, Reeve would win. He’d tell their plumbing system to back up or something, via remote. Because while he had only learned he was the son of the head of a Mandalorian Clan a couple weeks prior, he now had a reputation to uphold. Fett’s didn’t like to lose.

It would be a while yet before the name grew on him. He was tired of being Reeve Dyson, because Reeve had been too weak to help his mother. Too weak to stop his stepfather until it was too late. But Reeve Fett? Reeve Fett was practically royalty on Concord Dawn. Reeve Fett had money and resources and people. But if he took the name Fett, (if his father allowed), there would also be more expected of him.

He’d have to be a real Mandalorian, and embrace the culture his father had so long ago. Reeve could fight, sure. But was he a warrior? That remained to be seen.

At the moment, the thought was far from his mind. He was occupying a new era in his life. He was free, restrained only by his own imagination now. And where the people of Tatooine, and of this particular run down cantina were concerned, water might be scarce to them. But he had been deprived of something far greater by his own estimation. And he was rectifying that without another care in the world.

He was having his first beer with his dad.

The liquid in the bottle he was nursing tasted awful. But he would never forget the brand, or the taste, and would savor every drop of that nasty crap.

And what a ride that had been. Escaping Abregado-Rae not on his own, using wit and technology. But rather being literally broken out of jail and going on a high speed chase through the canals while being shot at by the cops. Only to find out that the walking tank of a man that had sprung him, turned out to be his biological father.

They had talked a lot in the days since, but sometimes Reeve found himself waking up in an unfamiliar spot and thought that the dream was over. He expected to wake back up on his threadbare mattress back in the dingy little apartment he’d shared with Toddlun, or even back on the streets in one of his little hidey holes where he kept his valuables.

Reeve was still coming to terms with the fact that his bio dad wasn’t actually dead, as he’d been led to believe for a few years. The fact that Aren Kiner was actually Aren Fett was still sinking in. And further than that, the idea that Aren Fett wasn’t a complete asshole was something of a miracle to him.

He still hadn’t called the man “dad” or “buir” as the term went in Mandalorian circles. But considering they had 18 years to catch up on, after two weeks, Reeve didn’t think they were doing too badly.

Reeve shoved another crispic into his jaws and crunched down on it with glee. Gone were the days where he had to wonder where his next meal was going to come from. And now that he’d been eating more protein, his muscles were slowly starting to fill out under his skin. As a ring fighter, he’d honed his body with practice and abuse, but in the lack of solid meals, he mostly turned out to be thin and wiry. Now he was starting to look like a well put together human man.

“Get the Drifter squared away, Ad'ika?” came his father’s voice next to him.

Reeve turned and raised an eyebrow at Aren and responded with a confused muttering of “Mmmf?” Muffled by the food in his hole. He wasn’t yet used to the Mando’a being thrown at him but slowly was coming to terms with the idea that “ad’ika” meant kid or child or some such.

With a grab of his drink, Reeve washed down the food and swiped at his mouth to clear the moisture and crumbs, licking his back teeth to clear some debris there before actually responding through a nod. “Oh, yeah. Did the shutdown process just like showed me. Power plant is in standby mode until we get back and everything was stowed properly in case we need to take off in a hurry.”

He smiled quickly and stuffed another snack into his gob. Chewing quickly, but slowed down considerably as the thought dawned on him and his eyes grew distant.


“Ah fowgot toh wock da dows.” He slurred through his food. It was a fatal mistake on a planet like Tatooine. He was no stranger to theft. And the warning look from Aren spoke volumes about the error.

Reeve swallowed with a grimace and held up his left arm, tapping a few commands on his gauntlet, the only piece of gear he currently owned, and brought up a display of the ship. “Ziggy. Lock down the Drifter. Execute.”

There was a slight beep of confirmation and the automated drone of the droid voice from his bracer, **Acknowledged**

Then he looked back up at his father and grinned. “I did install a new security system though.” he said with a wink. And with that, he offered a finger gun to his father and flexed his thumb with at cluck of his teeth.

“This lady even know what you look like without that duracrete slab over your face?”

Reeve had taken a look at Aren’s armor a few days prior and had been exceptionally surprised at the weight of the stuff. It was no wonder he’d taken so many shots on Abregado-Rae like nothing. He was essentially walking around with starship armor on him.

[lilforceghost]

“Late, yet again.”

This was said to no one in particular as Skylar muttered under her breath and made her way through the crowded streets of Mos Espa with the twin suns' searing and unforgiving heat beating down high above Tatooine. Despite the shimmers of heat and the overwhelming urge for most beings to stay out of the suns, Skylar didn't mind it. In fact, she hardly broke a sweat as she walked through the bustling traffic in her jacket and her boots with her long brown hair tied back in a braid.

But this time there was a good reason for her to be late. Her beloved sister Sovi had been up with extreme night terrors all night which had meant that both she and Maralyn had spent the better part of the long hours making sure the medication they had given Sovi had calmed her down. Skylar could only wish that she had saved Sovi from her childhood. She wished she could save her from what was happening in her mind and ease the burden of the pain of the memories that Sovi could not endure.

It hadn’t been until she was already supposed to meet the Mandalorian Aren Fett about a job that Sovi was as mentally stable enough and Skylar felt comfortable leaving the two of them. Aren and Skylar had met prior in a less than friendly meeting on Nar Shaddaa but the two of them had worked it out and Skylar had found a surprising ally. It was a new situation for her to be in to say the least considering most of the time she worked alone. But now, she needed his help and she could only hope that he’d want in. Skylar could only assume that if Aren was here, he was interested.


“Watch where you’re walkin’!” A nasty voice called out --- she had accidentally bumped into a smelly Rodian as she made her way down the dusty streets. One equally nasty look in his direction from her piercing green eyes had caused him to quickly look away and not challenge the issue.  

Skylar knew the large amount of cafe she had consumed before leaving would take some time to really kick in before she had her pep back into her step. ‘The Drenched Dewback’ wasn’t too far from her current footfall and quickening her step, the Bounty Hunter could faintly hear the music coming from the place of meeting. All Cantinas were the same in that way. From Skylar’s perspective they were loud, chintzy music and bands that began to become tolerable only the more you drank. She’d take a bottle in her ship’s cockpit over sociable drinking any time of the day.

The music grew louder as she entered the Cantina without missing a step. It wasn’t overly crowded but there were a decent amount of people in there as it always carried a number of patrons during the day to escape the heat. While the heat never bothered Skylar, it was noticeably cooler in the dimly lit room.

Her green eyes narrowed some as she began to scan the room for Aren. Truth be told, she’d only ever seen him in his armor. But she could at least sense a familiarity of a presence in the Force that could only be him. Guarded, yet fairly laid back, she followed the footprint in the Force to a scruffy man and sitting next to him, a young man in his late teens. Walking up to the pair of them, she could tell he had similar features to Aren that told her that perhaps he was related; maybe a son. 

Skylar straightened her jacket some as she took a seat that was free on the other side of Aren and didn’t say anything for a moment. The young woman ordered a shot before looking over at the two of them and despite the dimly lit area, it was much clearer now that the boy was definitely related to him. He had his father’s eyes and nose, which were evident for sure. Skylar could also see to that Aren wasn’t without his attractive features. It was hard not to be attracted to him, as last time she didn’t get to see much of him behind his armor. Now, however… She could see the face behind it. His handsome features, she noted were also complimented a fair amount of scruff and beard.

Once her shot came, the female bounty hunter nodded in thanks before placing some credits on the counter and turning back to the two men next to her she gave a small smile; the mass amount of freckles on her face shifted with the movement of her lips. Speaking up over the music, she first addressed Aren, making sure he could hear her, she leaned in some, but not leaving the kid out of the conversation, either. Though, it would seem he was enjoying the appetizer the two of them had picked up.

“He’s got your nose, you know.”

[Ghostie]

“This lady even know what you look like without that duracrete slab over your face?”

Aren was raising one of the last crispics to his mouth when Reeve asked that fateful question. The Mandalorian hesitated on answering, the fried piece of meat halfway between the plate and his face. Skylar had never seen Aren out of his armor. He had debated wearing it, so that she would know who he was. But an armed and armored Mandalorian walking into an establishment like 'The Drenched Dewback' was sure to disrupt business in all manners of speaking. Giving his son a little grin, Aren bit down on the crispic, chewing and swallowing before answering.

“If she doesn't, then she's not a bounty hunter worth our time, is she?”

Having fought a handful of Force-users before, the Mandalorian quickly decided that he wasn't worried about whether or not Skylar could recongise him. Whether they were Jedi or Sith, it didn't matter. In general, Force-users knew things. Things that other people, other adversaries, didn't know. It was in the way they reacted quickly to evolving situations. The way they seemed to know what you were thinking before you did. And on top of being able to use that blasted Force, Skylar was a bounty hunter of at least some success. If she couldn't find him, then Aren wasn't sure that he wanted to work with her. If she couldn't find him, then Aren and Reeve simply had a slight detour to share a drink. There were, Aren decided, far worse places than a dive bar on Tatooine for that. Better places, to be sure. But worse ones nonetheless.

Shoving the rest of the crispic into his mouth, Aren looked over his shoulder again just to see that the pair's worries about Skylar not being able to find them would be, in fact, themselves unfounded. Just as the Mandalorian turned, he spied the petite woman of diminutive height at the top of the sandstone steps leading to the entrance of 'The Drenched Dewback’. Chewing his food, Aren's eyes lingered on her a bit longer than perhaps needed. She was just as he remembered from Nar Shaddaa; chocolate hair tied back and braided together, piercing green eyes, and a face simply covered in freckles. She wore the same jacket as she had then, or at least one very similar. Had it not been for the light sword bouncing off of one of her shapely hips, and the blaster strapped to the other, Aren would swear that a woman of her caliber had made a very wrong turn somewhere, and had gotten on the wrong transport off of whatever world she came from.

Something was off, though. Even without that damned mystical energy field, Aren could tell that Skylar seemed… Harried, which was the best word he could find. There were several strands of hair free from the long, brown braid. Her eyes were tinged with the color of red. Her shirt was rumpled and wrinkled. All signs of a long night with little sleep, when they were added up together. The Mandalorian found himself wondering, even caring about what had happened.

But Aren had lost track of events as he eyed Skylar up on her way to the bar. By the time he had come back to his senses, she was sitting on the free stool to his left, and ordering a shot of liquor. Letting her be for a moment, Aren turned to Reeve, and nudged him in the ribs with an elbow. Nodding his head in Skylar's direction to indicate that this was the woman they had been waiting for, Aren turned back to her just in time to receive the remark about sharing a nose with Reeve. Wrinkling his own nose a bit, the Mandalorian turned back to his Son, looked the young man over for a minute. They did, in fact, posses the same nose. In fact Aren and Reeve shared a lot of similar facial features, like any father-son duo would. Aren turned back to Skylar, his eyes meeting hers, and his face unable to hold back a small smile when he watched her grin at him, her freckles flexing with her lips.

“Really? I would've thought the eyes gave it away.” After a long moment of looking Skylar over once again, Aren leaned back in his stool so the trio could see and talk with one another. “Reeve, this is Skylar Zenar. Bounty Hunter. Skylar, this is Reeve, my son. He's looking to cut his teeth on his first job.” Job, of course, referring to whatever bounty Skylar had cooked up for the three of them. Sliding the plate of fried, crunchy meat down the bar and towards the Skylar, Aren offered it to the woman. “Crispic? Ad'ika here has been inhaling them, so speak now or forever hold your peace.”

[tenkalus]

Wow Reeve thought to himself as the brunette walked up and sucked down a shot. No wonder he wants to work with her, she’s pretty.

“Hi.” he offered in a monotone by way of greeting, casually raising a half-hearted wave. “Recently found son actually. No blood test to confirm that yet. He’s just gallivanting around picking up women by looking like he’s got his shit together. Introduces me and people think he’s a great person because he takes his boy places.” He grinned mischievously at Aren before adding, “Psh. Cut my teeth? I was working jobs back before you decided to start juicing steroids enough to haul around that ship hull you call armor...”

He smirked and reached for the bowl of snacks. But his fingers hit the bar instead. When Reeve looked down he scowled as Aren seemed more interested in his lady friend now and took away the best part of the cantina to offer her. Now, he supposed he just had to wait and listen to their discussion.

With a shrug, he spun on his stool and faced the rest of the cantina, whipping out his datapad from his rear belt pouch and began perusing the HNE for news. One of the first things his eyes came across was mention of some new plague spreading across Hutt space. It was far from him though so he kept on scrolling.

Raised voices, both jubilant and disappointed caught his attention though and he flicked his eyes up over the pad to find the source of the noise at a Pazaak table a short distance away. A crowd was forming around the players as the game went on, a stack of credits was piled up on the side table for the individual wagers.

Reeve eyed the credits and smirked. Chump change. He had credits now, more than he’d ever see in his lifetime prior to leaving Abregado-Rae. And the interesting part was that he hadn’t even needed to steal them. They were simply his, courtesy of his mother. But his hobbies were expensive, and working with his father and this other bounty hunter seemed as good a job as any to make even more. Plus it would hone his skills. He hadn’t had a chance yet to test security protocols outside of Abregado-Rae. It was time to see how far his wings could spread on the net of the galaxy.

[lilforceghost]

“Really? I would've thought the eyes gave it away.”

Skylar shook her head a bit, pieces of her unkempt braid swayed with the movement. She could tell that his eyes were locked on her but the feeling was rather mutual. Skylar did have a hard time focusing on much else, at first, anyway.

“Nah, you squint a lot more than he does. Makes you look a bit constipated.” 

She grinned again, teasing as she leaning forward to greet Aren’s son with a freckled smile.

“Hi. Recently found son actually. No blood test to confirm that yet. He’s just gallivanting around picking up women by looking like he’s got his shit together. Introduces me and people think he’s a great person because he takes his boy places.”

This kid was definitely Aren’s son. And Skylar could see it now: Aren being this kid in his younger years — a bit geeky and scrawny and a smartass looking for a chance to make it in the galaxy. It made Skylar laugh a little bit inwardly at the mental image but it didn’t keep her from rousing him up any. 



“Nice to meet you kid. Trust me, you’re his. And if he’s any good at picking up women I’d suggest you learn a thing or two. Looks like you might need it.”



Aren then offered the last of the Crispic, she politely turned it down. Her stomach still turned with worry for Sovi which momentarily turned her grin down a bit thinking about it. Sighing slightly she focused once more before sliding bit back down to Reeve.

“Nah, the kid can have it. From the looks of the lack of the meat on his bones he’s going to need it.”



Pausing for a few moments, Skylar ordered one more shot, letting the greetings and pleasantries shift so she could now address the real reason they were there. At least part of the real reason. Skylar knew it wasn’t right but it was a part of her past she wasn’t ready to divulge in. She was afraid she’d be seen as weak and she didn’t want to seem weak to anyone. Especially Aren. She had her reasons for going after the Pirate Toro Shen but for now, it was on a need to know basis. And she was the only one who needed to know.



“Okay, now… I know the two of you didn’t come all this way to share some drinks and sweat your nuts off. It just so happens I know where Toro Shen is going to be. And for those who may not know who he is---”



She paused for a moment looking at Reeve, not wanting to make him feel dumb but wanting to make sure he was on the same level.



“He’s a rather infamous Pirate captain with a large bounty on his head. I think it’s time we collect that bounty and cash those credit for a rather nice payday. He’s going to be outside of town in one of the canyons and if we corner him in the canyon and cut him off we got him in the bag.” 


Sitting back in her seat some and crossed her arms, Skylar looked between the two of them. Her green eyes matching both sets of orbs to get a feel of how they felt for the plan. 

"Can't go wrong with a nice fat payday. What say you?" 

[tenkalus]

Reeve grinned as the bowl was passed back his way. He didn’t think he was scrawny, but he wasn’t going to say no to more food. “Heyyyyy thanks lady, you’re alright!” He jerked a thumb to Aren after popping another snack in his mouth and chewing through the crunch, “I don’t care what he says!”

He pulled the name Toro Shen up on his datapad and began looking through his general file.

“He’s a rather infamous Pirate captain with a large bounty on his head. I think it’s time we collect that bounty and cash those credit for a rather nice payday. He’s going to be outside of town in one of the canyons and if we corner him in the canyon and cut him off we got him in the bag.”

Reeve nodded along with the explanation, grateful for the extra details. In the computer world, details were key. If you missed even the tiniest zero in a line of code, your equipment could fry because the program wasn’t working properly.

"Can't go wrong with a nice fat payday. What say you?"

Reeve smirked around his crispin and crunched loudly on another one. “What say we?” he inadvertently cut back in just as Aren was opening his mouth to speak. “Well, I say-”

He held up his fingers, gripping the datapad in his palm as he ticked off the things that cropped up in his head as soon as they appeared. “What kind of hardware does this guy use? Can we expect a guy with a blaster pistol or a rocket launcher? Does he travel with a bunch of muscle? Is the canyon accessible from above? How many entrances to the canyon are there? More than one means he could viably escape if we don’t catch him in just the right spot.” he paused for breath and absently crunched on yet another crispin, tilting his head as the questions rolled in. “Whatsh da acshall bouny on dish guy? Ah don’t have acshesh to da bouny board yet but.. Know what? Scrash dat, I’ll open … it… u--”

He felt eyes on him. Both of them were staring at him, Aren with an expression that he was seeing more and more lately now that they were getting more comfortable around each other. It was the ‘shut up and let me handle this’ look. Reeve’s eyes looked over both of them, slightly wider than usual and realized he’d just embarrassed himself.

He gulped his food down hard with a wince. “Actually, don’t mind me at all...” he said with a nervous chuckle “I’m newwww… I’ll just….” he finished with a dismissive wave, “I’ll just do what I do.” And then buried himself back in his datapad.

Reeve was still getting used to being around people. The majority of his free time back on Abregado-Rae had been spent alone, tweaking Ziggy. He often found himself talking out loud, speaking his mind because there was no one around who could talk back.

All he could do to move past that particular social awkwardness, was clearing his throat and going about his business being the third wheel for a bit.