as written by Sokka, Saarai, Script, and Calcos
Varsin watching what was going on with little interest, until the Man hobbled into town. The promise of a pay day was enough to catch his ear. However the popularity this job was getting was a downside.
Walking toward the man and the other bounty hunters he spoke. "I haven't been on planet very long what's so special about these criminals, and how high is the price on their heads?" Varsin asked.
____
"High enough." One of the bounty hunters told Varsin, "If Crowley wants someone's head, he is paying top dollar for it." The other said, "Enough for us four to split it." The wounded man added.
He had to keep himself part of the conversation if he expected to gain something. "I ran into them last night. I can lead you all there."
____
Varsin turned to the kid he seemed to ignore the other mercenaries. "How many were there?" He asked.
He didn't like sharing the job with locals but even he knew he had limits there were just some jobs that the Mandalorian couldn't do on his own.
____
"I counted about five." The wounded man told Varsin, "Heavily armed. Armored. I couldn't handle them on my own." He added, "They're evil, we need to get rid of them before they hurt anyone else. Like, now."
He was anxious to get the job done. Or to at least get his revenge.
____
The twin suns of Hera Prime had fallen by the time Benedict spotted Siren, "Land!" He shouted, pointing at the town as he slowed his bike down to a crawl. "We'll put ourselves up somewhere for awhile and then head out." He told the others.
"Unfortunately, that will be with or without Mulan." He added, "And we can get you some water before you die on us." Benedict said to Alanna, "If what we know about this planet is true, be ready to get into a fight or three."
____
"I used to work security at the shittiest most fucked up bar in Westeria," Alanna remarked with a shrug, "It's still pretty much force of habit to be ready for- no, to expect a fight or three on any given day."
She grinned. "Doubt this place can do much worse than some of that clientele."
____
The closer they got to the town, the more people Benedict could see coming to get a look at the visitors. Men and women, some armored, many armed, watching him and his team.
"I take it they don't like tourists." Benedict joked, waving to people as they entered the town. He would be lying if he said that the eyes on him didn't make him nervous.
He didn't know who he was dealing with. Hera Prime wasn't exactly a place the Invictus visited often or got postcards from.
____
"I can't blame them," Alanna remarked, "I imagine in a town like this, strangers means trouble. Especially strangers carrying guns."
She glanced around at the various buildings. "I suppose it would be too much to hope for a cosy Bed and Breakfast place, wouldn't it?"
____
The ship touched down about half a mile outside of Siren, a storm of sand billowing out in every direction, the Wings of Destiny's engines conjuring up the thick cloud like a bumbling tomb raider waking a long-slumbering lich king. When the choking particles finally subsided, the whirring of the loading ramp's descent reverberated through the metal walls of the cargo hold. For the umpteenth and final time, Thalgan Vash made his way down the steep incline, his boots procuring a hard, metallic clang with each footstep. In each of his hands, he carried a hefty metal case, either of them loaded down with his equipment; armor, weapons, rations and everything else.
He was dressed in a tattered black duster, beneath which he wore a simple white button-up shirt and boot-cut jeans, a pair of western-style boots covering his feet. His head was covered with a wide-brimmed hat, with a faded tan shemagh draped around his mouth. Finally, he carried in a holster his S-101 slugthrower pistol; a trusty, revolving handgun that was perfectly suited for the environment he found himself in.
As soon as the mercenary's feet touched the sand, he eased the metal cases onto the ground, moving ahead of them as to give the ship clearance. The loading ramp whirred to life again, climbing up and out of reach before nestling into its air-locked position. Thalgan stepped back further and further, covering his eyes with his right arm as the Wings ascended, the air that the engine pushed around rushing outward. It was all Thalgan could do to keep his feet planted and remain standing with the gale force that sought to ground him whipping about. With his free hand, Thalgan offered a wave as the ship turned, giving the pilot inside one final goodbye.
Arrora offered only a pained look in return, one the mercenary would never see.
And suddenly, the ship zoomed off, past the limits of the horizon, his clothing blown backward as the wind rushed by, trailing the ship's path and leaving him behind, just as she was doing now. He sighed, sauntering over to his belongings and taking a seat on one of the bulky trunks, staring in the direction he knew Siren to be. "Kinda wish I had taken to smoking right about now," he said in a vain attempt to cheer himself up.
____
"Cosy? Yeah, right." Benedict said, bringing his bike to a stop near what appeared to be a bar. "You can always count on the local watering holes for a static resting place." He told his team, tossing the bag of Invictus insignias towards a pile of garbage not far from him.
The people in the town diversified deeper in, all manner of people, many not Human, called Siren home. They were rough types. Armored, tattooed, and carrying their own guns.
They were still watching the newcomers. It was time to break the ice.
"Anyone know where I can get a nice fajita around here?" Benedict asked, "What's a fajita?" A woman asked loudly, "I actually don't know how to answer that..." Benedict admitted.
____
Varsin nodded to the kid. He could do it but...it was risky.
"Five of them,heavily armed, where were they exactly?" He asked. He wasn't going to decide until he knew what the hell he was getting himself into.
____
"Fajitas? Really? I don't know what you expected. Food here is probably based off of the local wildlife." Alanna shook her head. The thing she'd shot earlier had not looked tasty. "How about a drink? I'm pretty sure alcohol must be universal."
____
"They're in a cave. It's not far from here." The man told Varsin, directing his attention towards the newcomers. "You! You look in need of opportunity." He said, approaching Benedict as he was heading for the bar. "What?" Benedict asked, "Bounties to be claimed. Big ones. All set by Elias Crowley."
"I know that name." Benedict told Alanna, "I can't place it, but I know it." He said, "Who's the bounty on again?" He asked.
"Evil terrorists and marauders. Five of them with nice weaponry. No match for you. No match for all of us if we go together."
____
"One man's evil terrorist is another man's freedom fighter," Alanna pointed out, "You're going to have to be more specific."
Not that she thought they had time to waste on bounty hunting, but if Benedict recognised the name, perhaps it would be pertinent to find out who he was after in greater detail.
____
"We'll check it out, but we won't commit for now." Benedict told the man, he didn't trust him much. He didn't trust anyone that wasn't part of his team, really. But, he recognized the name he'd heard and it was worth following up on. There were no such things as coincidences in the kind of work that was being done.
"Crowley's a good man." A nearby mercenary told Benedict, "Better than good, some say. I think the general consensus is that he's the last best hope for this hellhole." He continued.
"Hellhole? I was thinking of retiring here." One of the Invictus soldiers joked. The mercenary, armored from head to toe, just stood silently. They didn't think the joke was funny.
"Tough crowd." Benedict said to Alanna.
____
He strode into town feeling more exhausted than he had predicted; the combined efforts of heat and weight had served dutifully to wear him down on the long walk into the town's borders. Still, at least this place was somewhere somewhat familiar, a place he could lay low until he was needed again.
The "pleasant" sights and smells that glimmered in his eyes and wafted through the air created an atmosphere of belonging to people such as himself, -lowlifes, vagabonds and rogues- the town offering a warm, (an understatement, given the climate) inviting embrace for the mercenary.
He'd make the most of it.
____
Varsin nodded, "This Crowley does he make good on his offers? I don't want to be stiffed by some backwater bankrupt kingpin." Varsin said as if remembering some past experience.
____
"Real man of the people, eh?" Alanna shrugged her shoulders. "I'd be asking what the agenda is, myself, but then I'm not particularly confident in the integrity of my fellow man."
She shot Benedict a look then, raising her eyebrow. "I don't know what you were expecting from the 'haha, you live in squalor' angle."
____
"Crowley hasn't done wrong by us yet." A mercenary told Alanna and Varsin, "Some of the people around him? Not quite as noble." He added, "Words for another time." The other said, turning his attention to Benedict. "I like his plan, make sure this isn't a trick and then go from there."
"So, are we gonna posse up or what?" Benedict asked, "What's a posse?" A man asked, "They speak English, but not our English. Idioms and puns are going to be hard." Benedict said with a sigh.
____
He found himself in one of the local watering holes, his cargo settled beside the booth he had sought refuge in, his eyes casting attentive glaces about the room from beneath the brim of his hat, scanning faces and movement. He overheard several conversations at once, some on the subject of drug dealing, others on assassination, and even some in the more mundane realm of robbery. This place was a regular den of criminals, and he felt right at home among them. Still, he wasn't here looking for some big score or to join up with any raiding parties. He'd been told to come here and wait.
So he waited.
____
Varisn tapped a gloved finger idly on the hilt of one of his holstered pistols. He could pass on this though, there probably wasn't much harm in joining up. It wasn't like he had any jobs lined up at the moment.
"Alright I'm in." Varsin said.
____
"I dunno, should we be going off galvanting while we're waiting for Mulan?" Alanna asked, before pausing to think. "How'd she get that nickname anyways?"
____
Benedict gave Alanna's words some thought. She was right about leaving, they had orders from Mulan to stay put. But, their other orders were to find their people. They had a possible lead.
"Bryce, come with me and Alanna. The rest of you wait for Mulan." Benedict ordered the Invictus, "You got it. We'll give you two hours before we worry." One of them responded, gesturing towards the tavern. "We'll be inside."
The man who had brought up the information on the bounty moved to join the two armored mercenaries nearby. Mostly because they looked to be the toughest. They were shields if anything went wrong.
"Let's go." One of them said, he and his partner heading for a pair of ATVs. "You heard the man." Benedict said to Alanna and Bryce, heading for the bike he rode in on. Bryce followed behind him to ride with the Invictus soldier.
"The name's kind of racist. We call her Mulan because she's Chinese, a soldier, and mostly because she's Chinese." Benedict finally answered.
____
Waiting was going to pay off for Thalgan. That became more clear when thenewcomers to the town entered the same den of criminals the mercenary was in. They looked experienced, but they were too clean, morally and physically, to be anything more than corporate mercenaries.
And then came a familiar face for all involved. Clad in a black duster and his wide-brimmed hat was John Izumi, the sound of his spurs against the wooden floor attracted brief glances in his direction. The eyes hidden beneath his opaque frames obscuring exactly where he was looking.
"It's him. He's here." One of the clean mercenaries said, doing his best to pretend that he didn't know the man who entered as he walked towards a booth.
His tell was blatant, but it was still early enough in the game to bluff.