CHAPTER 2: NO ESCAPE

The vehicular traffic on Coruscant was a sight to behold. The constant flow of floating vessels and ships formed a criss-cross pattern that was mesmerizing from a distance. Since most vehicles had repulsorlift systems, there were very few on the ground level.

Although there was one main traffic stream high in the stratosphere, there were at least 3 levels of traffic in the troposphere. Each was bidirectional and with just enough  space in between the vehicles as you went higher and higher.

To a stationary observer, it was an organized chaos. The pattern was a result of drivers following the predetermined flight paths of the local cities.

For a swoop on the run, it would be too slow to follow. That was the advantage Okha needed. The desperation should have him weaving out of traffic. She was also counting on the fact that the flight ceiling for a swoop was not very high. If boosted, it could reach the next tier of traffic, but would not stay long. The fact that the swoop was red in color was also helpful.

Following TIC’s best possible guess, Okha scanned the closest traffic pattern. Nothing.

Boosting to the 2nd level, Okha leaned in and gave the speeder an extra boost with her jetpack. Still, nothing.

It was not long before TIC began to whirl and beep repeatedly.

“I see it TIC, good work!”

The swoop was speeding and weaving in the third level of traffic.

“For the sake of giant bantha poodoo” Okha sighed in disbelief as she went full throttle.

“TIC, Divert all power to boosters!”

She never thought she would have to push the speeder bike to the limit, but she had to. The swoop was far and they were about to lose it.

“Come on!…” Okha yelled to herself, as if the bike would hear her and respond with faster speeds.

“TIC! - Anything we can do to make this hunk of imperial junk go any faster?!”

The bops and beeps were not optimistic. The swoop began weaving onto a nearby building’s landing area and is soon lost from sight.

“Don’t lose him TIC!”

TIC-R5 again began extrapolations of possible directions the swoop could have taken.

Following the most likely course, Okha cuts a hard left across a four-seated speeder. The driver was forced to take evasive maneuvers. Both occupants began yelling expletives in their language and gesturing obscenities. TIC-R5 seemed to chirp some concern about the speeder full of dugs Okha almost hit, but knew better than to lose focus. Their target was slipping away with each passing moment.

No visual on the target.

Okha was not sure what to think as she shook her head.

Where are you?

Bothans were hairy beings with canine-like features that were better at political manipulations than vehicular handling. This one seemed like an exception. Unless, the swoop was refitted to handle higher speeds at higher ceilings. Either way, this was not going to be as easy as she had thought.

Speeding and weaving through the second level of traffic, still with no swoop in sight. Okha’s frustration grew. She knew that hunting down a target was best done with with the jetpack alone.

Unlike the swoop, Okha believed Imperial speeders were more agile and better equipped to handle pursuits. Perhaps this particular speeder was not. The engine began to overheat. Caution lights and buzzing sounds began wailing on the dashboard. TIC-R5 joined in the noise with his own concerning beeps.

“I KNOW!” Okha yelled back.

Suddenly, something caught Okha’s tracking system’s attention.

She swerves the speeder bike hard right in the general direction with extreme yaw.

Suddenly, all the occupants on a large mass-transit vehicle braced themselves, gasped and screamed as the driver-droid evaded Okha’s speeder. As the large vehicle recovered from the near-miss, one of the occupants got on their communicator to contact a local imperial garrison.

Although relieved to still be in one piece, TIC expressed his disagreement on cutting off the mass-transit vehicle with a few chirps and a whistle. Under the black reflective visor of her mandalorian helmet Okha expressed a slight grin. She finally had a lock-on the target.

“THERE HE IS!”

TIC beeps once more with excitement.

Despite the overheat warnings, Okha revs the Speeder’s engine to the maximum. Using TIC-R5’s navigation and her helmet’s view screen, a course is plotted and there is no slowing down. Without warning, Okha maintains a firm grasp of the speeder’s handlebars, and begins to stand on her speeder’s seat.

Confused, TIC begins to beep and whirl in caution and disbelief.

“Don’t you worry. There is just no way I am letting this one get away.”

Keeping her balance, Okha ignites her jetpack.

“TIC, you got the bike”

Okha gives a full blast of her jetpack and hurtles over several speeders, and lands on a large transportation vehicle. Using her fibercord launcher, she uses her last grappling hook and takes aim at the swoop in the traffic level above.

She takes the shot. The hook makes contact with the swoop’s rear assembly as she leaps off and goes for the ride.

Suddenly, the swoop feels like it is dragging a dead weight, and begins to lose altitude. With a look of confusion and terror on his face, the bothan driver begins to look around.

Using all her strength and her jetpack boosting, Okha held on and began climbing up the fibercord. With a large boost of her jetpack, she began pulling on the swoop. Instantly,the swoop began to lose speed. The hairy bothan looked all around and finally spotted Okha - the source of his sudden drop in height and speed.

“NO!” He barks out loud as he pushes the throttle.

Okha continues to fire her jetpack. While keeping a firm grip of the fibercord with her right arm,  Okha grabs her modified WESTAR-34 blaster from her left holster and takes aim at the swoop’s engine intake.

Okha squeezes the trigger.

KDEW!

BAM!

Smoke, sparks and debris fill Okha’s field of vision. She lets go of the fibercord launcher and drifts away from the path of the falling swoop.

Okha follows the trail of smoke as the sounds of the sputtering swoop engine becomes a sort victory chant in and of itself.

In the distance, the roars of Imperial Tie-fighters can be heard on approach.

“Already?” Okha asks herself in confusion.

The swoop finally lands hard on the ground below. A large open area with a few pedestrians that scatter into nearby buildings.

TIC-R5 arrives on the scene with the speeder, circling the smoldering swoop. Suddenly, the bothan takes aim with his blaster and begins firing at the circling speeder. A blast finds its way to TIC-R5’s dome.

A loud screech and whir follow.

POOF!

CRACK!

A puff of smoke and sparks fly from TIC as he loses Control of the speeder. Spinning and whirling, eventually the speeder and TIC find themselves on their side grinding against the ground. Sparks and debris fly in all directions.

“NO!... TIC!!..” cries Okha as she hurries her descent upon the scene.

Dodging fire from the bothan target, she lands and takes cover behind a nearby stationed vehicle. Drawing her right blaster from her holster, she was about to spring into action when suddenly, her speeder engine catches fire.

“NO!... TIC hang in there!”

As the barrage of blaster fire continues in her direction, the sound of imperial tie-fighters closing in becomes difficult to ignore.

CHAPTER 1: A MISSION OF MERCY

The streets of a city are always crowded. Behold, an entire planet that is a city. Coruscant, a planet teeming with buildings, businesses and individuals from all across the galaxy. Anyone can hide anywhere. So many faces. So many places. All types of intelligence. Natural and artificial. All different kinds of agendas. It is the perfect hiding place. And it is the worst for finding.

However, there are exceptions. For a skilled bounty hunter, no one can hide for too long.

Perched high above the hustle and bustle, Okha was keeping a close eye on her bounty. A single Bothan working his way to meet with a group of potential rebel spies.

Bothans were known for being good at political games, spying and keeping a low profile. Why the Empire wanted this particular one did not matter. What mattered was the bounty, and the potential multiplier for the others rebels.

“TIC, are you ready?” Okha spoke into her helmet’s integrated comm system. Some droid chatter comes back. “Great, wait my signal”.

Okha’s Mandalorian armor was forged of durasteel, tempered by a layer of Bronzium that gave most parts a dark-brown sheen. Lighter copper hues found on her shoulder and knee pads had a custom electroplated Ruusan Copper that was also found in the barrels of her coveted  WESTAR-34 blaster pistols. Although her helmet also had the Bronzium finish, the visor was surrounded by an aqua-blue detail that was also found on her gauntlets, and details on her Z-6 jetpack. In particular, the missile tips.

The wear on her armor was medium. Most of it was found in the edges. Any battle damage was noticeably limited. However, Okha was hopeful of adding a few more on this mission. Under the armor, the jumpsuit was a muted bluish gray, capable of resisting most sharp edges and kept out all types of physical projectiles.

Why the empire wanted to talk with this particular Bothan made no sense to Okha. She remembered that they called it being Merciful to him. That he was merely leading them to the other spies that the Empire was really after.

She also remembered that the bounty was high. Very high. That is all that mattered. It was high enough to help her acquire that freighter she wanted for so long. Having that freighter would be a dream come true. A dream of finally having a ship she can call her own.

Suddenly, the target moved into an abandoned diner.

Great work, you led me to your roost. Okha thought to herself.

Using the thermal integrated in her helmet, she counted:

One… two… three… Four…? Hmm.

The more, the merrier. Maybe there’s a bonus for each extra one.

The Empire believed there were two more. This could prove to be lucrative for Okha if she captures all. Some excitement sets in, but she quickly calms herself and maintains focus.

From the neighboring rooftop, Okha got closer. Using her helmet’s built-in sound amplification, she tuned in. However, the chatter was difficult to follow.

Perhaps they are using a jammer? She thought.

Without wasting another moment, Okha jumped off the building ledge. Her jetpack fired at the last moment possible. After a rough touchdown, she rolls to break her fall, makes a dash for the backdoor and stops.

Slowly, and without a sound, Okha slowly removes her helmet and cautiously puts her ear up against the door. The words were very difficult to make out, but she did hear someone mention the name, Mothma.

Mon Mothma? The ex-Senator? Okha was confused.

Then, she heard the mention of an imperial base construction.

It was muffled and very difficult to understand, the last two things Okha made out was that the base was not yet operational and that the rebels needed information on the Emperor’s location in the days to come.

Suddenly, she heard the diner’s front door open.

“No... No one is getting away.” Okha softly spoke to herself as she put her helmet back on.

A quick thermal scan showed the positions of the two subjects that were closest to the door.  One immediately to the right, and a second further out to the left. Both inside the kitchen area. She made out two more that were further away, beyond the bar seating area.

Okha takes a deep breath and clears her mind.

This is it.

She readies her right guntlet’s electro-projector, points it at the rear door control panel and gave it a short burst. The door opens and she immediately springs into action. Using the fibercord projector from her right gauntlet, she immobilized first target closest to her right.

A female Bothan? She thought to herself as she was brought to the ground with a thud.

The second Bothan in the kitchen was still off-guard from Okha’s sudden entry. He tried raising his blaster, but was too late. Okha already had him in her sights with her left gauntlet and unloaded a stun-shot from it, instantly immobilizing him.

That was a Bothan too, what is going on here? Okha wondered, but had no time to think about it.

The other two in the front of the diner picked up their blasters and took aim. Okha worked her way from the kitchen into the rear of the counter area. She quickly took cover as the third target began unloading blaster fire in her direction. Suddenly, she heard the door open. The blaster fire continued as she looked outside, through the large diner windows, a perfect view of her original target fleeing on a swoop bike.

Bantha poodoo! He’s is getting away!

Looking through the windows, she made a general assessment of the direction in which he was heading.

“You can run…”

Pinned behind the counter, Okha took a quick look and noticed the third subject was also a Bothan.

Is this a family?

Shorter than the original target, this Bothan had a stolen Imperial blaster and was ready to kill. Without hesitation, he continued firing in the right corner of the counter where Okha took cover.  

After a few seconds of continuing fire, the Bothan heard the attacker’s rocket pack fire up. Suddenly, he saw the glow from the rocket in the corner and race behind the counter toward the other end of the room - all the way to his left. Tracking it, he waited for the attacker’s head to appear and shoot right at it. Before he could, Okha rose from the original location, left gauntlet drawn. The young Bothan tried redirecting his blaster’s muzzle at to the right corner of the counter. To Okha, he was slower than a  spaceslug. She had already launched a stun dart, which upon impact, rendering all desires of muscle movement useless. Consciousness quickly followed, and like a rag-doll, he collapsed and felt nothing as his head pounded against one of the diner’s floor.

Okha took a look at her first prize that was already on the floor, tied-up, yelping and squirming in a fibercord knot. A quick aim of her left gauntlet and shot of the blaster on stun stopped the squirming.

Turning to her right gauntlet, she enters a few commands, and speaks “TIC, Come! NOW!” as she rushes outside.

The exterior front of the diner looked weathered, worn and was only a testament to a time when people of Coruscant could enjoy a fresh-made meal. Through the entrance, rushed Okha, a female bounty hunter with a unique Mandalorian armor with one thing on her mind. The Imperial bounty. She scans her immediate surroundings, and makes out the faint thermal signature of the swoop exhaust.

The signature is fading fast, TIC… hurry.

Now she waits and listens for the sound of her speeder bike. Each second is an eternity.

“T-I-C-R5 -- where are you?!”

A second later - roaring from around the corner, her highly modified Imperial speeder bike, refitted with the ability to carry her R5 astromech for remote piloting.

Okha jumped onto the pilot seat.

“TIC, Can you project a few possible trajectories based on the heat signature left from a swoop leaving this area in the past minute?”

TIC instantly completed a few calculations and displayed them as a hologram in front of Okha. All leading into down the street into the insurmountable Coruscant traffic. On the ground and secondary levels above, there was nothing but two-seater speeders, swoops and more speeders.

An igniter stick in a pile of ship debris, she thought to herself as she shook her head and smiled.

Hitting the pedal to full throttle, Okha began her chase.

Huntress of Mandalore: Shattered Dreams - PROLOGUE

Prologue

Enkrads, Outer Rim. The duration of night lasts much longer on this planet than in most. Over the centuries, this lasting darkness has proven to be a safe haven to countless individuals. Concealing both identities and dealings from the eyes of others. Especially from the Empire. In one of the darkest valleys, an unmarked star-ship finds comfort in such darkness. The ship has a clean gray metallic surface with no markings. Not a single scratch or dent. Any light in the surroundings were reflections of the engines on stand-by.

Suddenly, the darkness was pierced by a bright light source. A sudden glow from the sky. A light-gray star-ship with random blaster scorch markings emerges from the heavens casting light to the immediate surroundings. It keeps its distance from the other unmarked starship that was already there, but it is close enough to bring more of its detail into light. Sands of the planet surface are lifted and pushed in all directions.

Once it lands, all lights and engines are cut-off. Darkness takes over once more. Within the minute of its arrival, a faint light emerges as a ramp lowers. A shadow grows out from the light onto the ramp and looms over the planet surface as the figure makes its way across the sands. The figure pauses looks over to the other ship and notices a dark, tall, hooded figure already waiting outside of it.

“You are late”, spoke the dark, hooded voice just beyond visual range. “I intended to be late”, he replied as he stops and pulls down his own hood to reveal his calm face and demeanor. Well groomed and dressed for success, Emanel Ude did not typically take the time to look good for just anyone. Although he did not know who the hooded creature was, getting this deal meant helping someone. Someone he had known for a very long time. “I wanted you to be the one who waited, to feel entitled”... “to what?” replied the voice, with a hint of frustration. To which he replied, “the one that waits gets what he -or she- wants”. “OH? I am not so sure you know anything of what I want” growled the voice.  Emanel began to walk in the poorly-lit area between the vessels toward the other. He knew he had only one chance to get this right. “So, I hear the Empire is moving again on Kybur Crystals.” He pauses, only in speech, but continues to walk. Looking for a reaction from the voice.

There was none.

No point in beating around the moisture vaporator he thought.

He went straight for the heart of the matter.

“I was told you needed someone to do a job for”... The Voice interrupted, “And that is all you needed to know.”

It was too dark to make out the features of the hooded figure speaking from the other vessel. Suddenly, it asked very sharply, “You must be..?” “I am Emaneld Ude. I was told that you would be in need of someone who could get the job done no matter what. Are you NOKMN?” There was a long silence. Staring into the darkness, Emaneld Ude began to allow the fear to set in. Both fear of the low-lit surroundings and fear of the unknown source of the voice, which suddenly spoke out, grunting “I can feel your fear.” The statement did not help at all. The feeling began to compound. Thoughts began to form of returning to the ship and blasting away.

How far would I get?

It is not worth it.

If he wanted to kill me he would have done it already.

Keeping composure, Emaneld replied,”I am just not too fond of the dark”, to which the voice which had yet to confirm its identity replied, ”you made a promise”. His heart sank, he decided not to respond to the statement. Confusion took over.

How did he know?  

He did make a promise to her, that he would land her the best job ever. The one that would finally help her get that large freighter.

He must be force sensitive, he thought to himself, time to let the inside match my outside. Regaining his composure, he continued, “no promises, just facts.”

“FACTS?” asked the with largest grunt/growl so far.

Emaneld was thrown back but continued to kept composure, he now knew his opponent wanted the fear within to keep growing. With his new found knowledge that this NOKMN character had a way with knowing how he felt, he gathered his confidence and continued, “The fact that I know she can handle any job… That I know you need someone who will not fail.”

“She?... who is SHEEE?...”

With a slight grin, Emaneld paused for about one second, “You know who she is” realizing that there was a very good chance his hooded opponent hiding in the shadows knew of who he spoke of, he said no more. If anything, his thoughts and feelings were already being read and would eventually reveal her.

“Ah… yes… the so-called Huntress of Mandalore…” Although not visible, Emaneld knew that whoever the voice was, now had a wide grin on his face when he spoke those words.

“How is it that the both of you began working together?”

“we don’t”, he immediately replied, “I am merely a contact that she trusts.”

“And what do you get out of it?”

“Trust.”

If the voice in the darkness had eyes, he was looking straight at them.

“HA!... “ Suddenly, the large hooded being that presumably was the source of all the dealings, began to take steps toward him. Tall, slender and cloaked in a dark hooded robe. It was still too dark for any features to be made out as it approached. Once again, Emaneld found the courage to keep composure and not move.

The figure slowed to a stop and continued, “in my line of work, there is no such thing as trust.”

“Oh, do you work alone?” “Hhm… there are stronger motivators than trust. Trust can be broken. Fear is impenetrable. My men fear me. They do as I ask without question. Failure is not an acceptable outcome”

“Then, why don’t you have one of your men do the job?”

The cloaked figure began to take larger strides toward Emaneld. He almost began to move back, but again stood his ground. It finally became apparent, the hooded creature was also wearing a mask. Smooth, glossy and ominous. Like his ship, there were no distinguishable markings of any type. It became obvious to Emaneld that this being did not want his identity known at all. Even the name, NOKMN was never confirmed. Although that was how he was referred to as by the contact at Maz’s castle back on Takodana. It was not before long that Enameld realized that there were others working for this NOKMN. More so, he concluded that this mysterious character did not want this job to be traced to him in any which way. Hence, the need for a bounty hunter that would not fail.

After a few seconds of staring-down, the tall hooded figure sternly stated, “my right-hand man will be contacting you regarding the details, and arrange a meeting for payment.”

In an instant, the unknown being turned around and began to walk back toward his vessel.

Suddenly, a shadow in the distance moved abruptly. Then another across the other side of the rock formation. Emaneld was slightly startled, but then realized they were snipers perched in the nearby rocks readying their way back to the same vessel  came from.

What was all that about ?

Emaneld started his way back to the ship.

With that, the unmarked vessel’s doors closed, the engines fired up, and they were gone.

As he approached his ship, he asked himself out loud, “did they just jump to lightspeed within atmosphere?” shrugged and made his way up the ramp onto his ship.

Hidden out of sight was his R5 unit, which he affectionately called AreLy. A light metallic Teal Blue and white markings, he loved to chatter at random. However, this time was under strict orders not to chirp, whirl, beep or bop until the opposing vessel had left.

“Oh, you can speak now.”

AreLy was probably just as shaken up and confused for he had nothing to chirp, whirl, beep or bob for the next hour. Perhaps he was motivator-high in calculations about the ill-intentions from the opposing party. Either way, Emaneld will hear about them eventually.

Taking a deep breath, he knew that Okha Zaan would be excited. He never accepts anything in return from her except a good meal at Mazz’s.

“Fire her up, Arley, let’s go.”

The R5 unit returns to his docking station and starts the ship’s engines.

Emaneld  knew that one day she will become the best at what she does, and excel. To be trusted by her is all he could want. Although he knew not what the future would hold, being close to her was all that mattered.