Fandom for the rebel starbird

[pluvian_penguin]

Sibtin had been pondering their latest bounty for some time. Droid upgrades. Not something they'd ever considered too useful, but apparently, this was... humans had a phrase they were fond of. A big deal. While they much preferred to rely on their own strength, instead of technological fancy, they'd seen the usefulness that droids had for other beings.

And one of those other beings was going to have to help them with this job. Sibtin trusted themself and their skills entirely, which meant they also knew their limits. A job like this one was going to need a droid expert.

Lucky for them - as much as they hated to acknowledge luck - the guild had a droid expert on hand. They hadn't run into Lykaon very often, but on the few occasions they'd met, Sibtin had been impressed with his skills and professionalism. There was no use working with fools, but Lykaon was no fool, no matter how little Sibtin understood of his work.

So about an hour past the guild's typical lunchtime, Sibtin started from their quarters to the droid workshop. Lykaon was there, just as they'd expected.

The door opened automatically at their approach, and they didn't bother announcing themself any more than the noise of the door already had. Instead they folded their hands behind their back, eyeing up his workstation for a moment for anything that looked like it might explode or make any strange noises. Nothing immediately stood out to them as concerning.

With that assured, they turned their attention to Lykaon himself, their head tilting to the side slightly so they could eye him up better.

"I have a job that needs a droid expert," they said, their voice low and rasping. Mouth closed, they reminded themself. Squishy little things don't like teeth. "Finding schematics and delivering them to the buyer. Everything is on the puck." They held up the bounty puck that they all got their jobs from, then tucked it back into the leather pouch at their hip. "Help me fill the bounty, and I will take the credits for expenses, and split the rest equally."

They knew when they needed help, but that didn't mean they were going to pay any more than necessary for it. Another slicer could have been found just as easily, and no doubt cheaper. But it looked good, to keep things in the guild. And they were aware that their looks and demeanour made it... difficult, for many of the weaker hunters to trust them. Often this amused them, but they were aware of how difficult their life could become if their guild had no desire to defend them, and had decided to take some steps to remedy this.

 

[The Mechanist]

Sparks flashed before his eyes, his torch in hand as he sliced another damage metal plate off of his current project. A broken down IG droid was in parts over his workstation, and for weeks now Lykaon had been in the process of getting it repaired and rebuilt.

Though he was having an issue sourcing the parts. IG droids were efficient, dangerous, highly south after by hunters, and also expensive. And that therein lies the issue, the expense. Lykaon earned good money working at the guilds mechanic, but trying to find reputable sources of IG parts was starting to weigh heavily on his accounts, even more so now that he finally got a functioning torso. Though the issue with his current piece was the fact that it came in damaged.

The man would definitely be making sure the seller would be learned a lesson in trying to get one past him.

His concentration was short lived as his door opened and there stood a Barabel. Lykaons eyes squinted behind his lenses, his prosthetic arm reaching for a blaster under his table before recognizing the man as one of the guild. Relaxing only a slight bit he sat there and watched as he spoke. Mentioning a bounty that required the aid of a droid smith, and that of course all info was in the puck.

The small little data drive that all hunters of the guild utilized to receive their briefs about their assignments.

The barabel presented an opportunity for Lykaon, the man did after all just finish mentally being anguished about the parts for his current droid project and now he had a means to make that easier.

Lykaon was quiet a moment, pondering the situation before finally speaking, “how much are we talking. And how can I trust you won’t just blast me in the back at the end of the job?” He inquired. He knew this man, Sibtin was his name, and while the few encounters they had together never ended in unpleasantness, Lykaon wouldn’t go so far as to call him a friend just yet.

 

[pluvian_penguin]

Sibtin hissed a laugh, their teeth showing in a grin for a moment before they abruptly closed their mouth. Signs of humour were difficult to discern in Barabels. It took a keen eye, and some understanding of the species. To someone unfamiliar, it would look as though their humour was very short-lived, perhaps even faked.

They had no taste for faking emotions to placate other species, however, so their laugh had been as genuine as it ever was. Whether that meant anything, was not for a conversation like this to decide.

"Forty thousand credits each," they reported. Many beings had problems with the Empire, and Sibtin, being non-human, could fully understand why. But where others had their morals, Sibtin saw opportunity. The Empire could afford to solve all their problems with credits, and that was the language that they spoke most fluently.

"Killing you would damage my reputation with the guild. You are safe as long as guild work is useful to me."

Major players like the Empire, after all, rarely dealt with bounty hunters on an individual basis. It was much more efficient to hand the work to the Guild, and let the members sort it out amongst themselves. Sibtin had been first to lay claim to this bounty, so they had the right to it - unless they failed, at which point, disappointing the Empire wouldn't be their only problem.

Unfamiliar though they were with the specifics of droids, they recognised the one laying on the table. It was in high demand, and expensive. The bounty would be two-thirds of the cost to buy a brand new one. More than enough to cover parts, Sibtin assumed, though they weren't quite confident enough to make that statement to an expert. They were aware of their own flaws, but hubris was not one of them. Lykaon knew more about droids than they ever would, and they assumed that would be enough to get him on their side.

They eyed him, waiting for his next question, hoping it might instead be acceptance. A nictating membrane swept forward and then back, lengthwise across their eyes. Most other species kept their living areas at colder temperatures than Sibtin liked. They'd never mentioned it. Revealing a potential weakness was quite foolish, after all! But they had never attempted to hide the physical tics that indicated their discomfort, mostly because nobody was familiar enough with their species to realise what it meant.

 

[The Mechanist]

“40,000 credits” was what the barabel told the man…. Lykaon paused and pondered, 40k was a lot of credits, and should be just about enough to get him what he needed to get his droid running. The Kubaz looked up at Sibtin through the goggles of his mask before giving an affirmative nod.

“Alright Sibtin, for 40k I’ll agree to this job, and maybe I’ll even get something else out of it too if it’s schematics we’re going after.” Lykaon responded to the man.

“But I’ll need more info from that puck, where is the mark, and who is the…how do you say…unfortunate holder of this mark? Cuz if the buyer wants these schematics and they’re not sending one of their own to get it…well surely you understand my concern..” he added. “And do we also know who our buyer is? Would like to know more bout what kind of enemies our client has so as to be ready for who we’re gonna be pissing off.”

Lykaon has plenty of enemies, thankfully though none are large factions, except for maybe whatever group the ugnaughts belong to as the Kubaz has taken plenty of droid parts from them in the past. But short porcine humanoids he could handle, others? Depending on who they are, not as much.

 

[pluvian_penguin]

Success! Sibtin's teeth bared again before they once more remembered how unsettling their smile usually was to strangers. They would do better at refraining from such mannerisms in the future. They often hunted alone, and when they returned to the Guild, it could be difficult to remember what humans liked, and what they didn't.

But since this had worked, there was more to talk about. Lykaon had all the right questions. Ones that Sibtin had expected. Any hunter would want to know what they were doing, and who they were doing it for. Not knowing could come with great risk. Enemies were common for a bounty hunter. The trick was not making any powerful ones.

They reactivated the puck and placed it on the workbench between them. Lykaon would be able to find most of the information there.

The mark was a male Yaka named Osrik, so enhanced with cybernetics that his headshot was more metal than flesh. He was currently hiding in the criminal underworld of Nar Shaddaa.

“He was contracted to develop droid upgrades for the client,” Sibtin explained, folding their hands behind their back as they repeated the briefing they'd heard themself, not long ago. “This client financed everything in exchange for complete and sole rights to the upgrade. Instead, Osrik finished his product and ran off with it, intending to sell it to the highest bidder.”

Very foolish behaviour. Sibtin also would have placed a bounty on such an individual, if they had been betrayed in such a way. One could not expect to do such things and get away with it.

“The Empire placed the bounty. Osrik worked closely with their operatives to make this upgrade to their specifications. He is familiar with them and the way they work. The Empire is concerned that he will destroy the upgrades if he realises they are tracking him, and hired someone he will not be able to identify.

“That is why they placed a bounty with the Guild. We have no connections to them. Osrik would recognise someone the Empire trained and outfitted. We are independent, and we do not have to go through official Empire channels that Osrik might be sliced into. It gives us an advantage that he will not be prepared to negate.”

 

[The Mechanist]

Lykaon paused, the Kubaz taking a moment to absorb the information he was just given. A target who stole from the empire, and in his experience even he knew that was a death sentence in its own right. And on top of that it was a part funded by the empire in its entirety, meaning a bear endlessly source of credits.

And the fool had to go and ruin it for himself, what a joke! Oh well, his loss is Lykaons gain, and a mighty gain it will be indeed.

“So…we got ourselves an egg head then? And wanted by none other than the empire no less….why Sibtin my friend you may have just given me more than a quick paycheck. Yes this will help form connections and friends in other places.” He said standing up.

“Yes this will work out very nicely….maybe I can do more than finish up this IG droid of mine…wonder if I can get some of their droid parts…” he said getting off topic before returning to reality. Extending a hand towards the Hunter he spoke, “alright. You most definitely have yourself a deal now. Let’s shake on it and get ready. We’ve ourselves a bounty to catch. I’ll even throw in my droid wrangling gear for free. Man’s mostly machine, with my know how and your hunting experience we shouldn’t have any issues taking this mark down.”

 

[pluvian_penguin]

Sibtin blinked silently when Lykaon referred to them as a friend. That was a hasty application of the word, in their opinion, but they didn't object to it. Perhaps if Lykaon got overly friendly, while in the course of the work, but Sibtin didn't want to jeopardise their payout. A job like this should be handled by someone with experience in droids, which they didn't have themself.

Lykaon was right about the connections, though. The Empire had a habit of hiring people again, once good work was done. Some people had an objection to working for them. Sibtin had no such problems. Credits were credits.

“You can take what you want from Osrik's workshop. There will be space on my ship for cargo.”

The Swift Star wasn't a large ship. It was meant for a crew of one, with room for one more, maybe two if they didn't mind being very familiar with each other. The cargo bay had space for a speeder with its own cargo hatch. Since Sibtin was leaving that here in storage, he assumed Osrik's belongings would fit in the space left behind. There was already a pair of stasis pods in the cargo bay, where marks could be shipped without any worry of escape.

They held out their hand to shake, nodding in a slightly awkward way as Lykaon continued to speak.

“I accept your offer of gear. My things are on my ship already. I am ready to leave when you are.”

He had a pack with some basic first aid supplies, a blaster, a knife, and gear for tracking a target. That would be coming with him. The rest, he expected to leave on the ship. There was always the chance that something could go wrong, but in that case, his supply chest was well-stocked.

“The Empire has provided Osrik's comm code and some other information about him. I will show you while we are in hyperspace. The flight should be less than a day. We will deliver Osrik and his upgrade to the Empire, and the rest will be your responsibility. I do not expect him to have anything I want.”

Perhaps if there was some rare weapon there. As the person who had found the bounty, and invited Lykaon along, Sibtin was prepared to 'pull rank', such as it was, if there was something worth the trouble. But Osrik was reportedly not skilled in weapon-making. This job would be simple.

 

[The Mechanist]

Lykaon wasted no time as he got up from his seat. “Alright then it seems we have an accord. Give me some time to gather my belongings and necessary gear.” He said to the man as he walked away from his desk and began to gather a few bits and bobs from a locker.

He slung an ion rifle over his shoulder as he retrieve some home made armor that was evident it was repurposed droid plate. Lykaon had a lot of free time, and he was quick to learn that being defenseless is never a good idea. And so thusly he utilized his expertise with droids to his advantage, making gear and even weapons about what droids he could and did scavenge. A chest piece made from a republic ears battle droid chest plate was soon strapped to his chest. Followed by what appeared to be a modified super battle droid wrist blaster soon being mounted onto his wrist. Soon followed by a bulky Fanny pack that one would assume was the power source for such a weapon as tubes and wires were connected.

With one last grunt Lykaon slung a backpack on, the jingling emanating from it would make it obvious he was bringing tools and other bits of tech with him for the job.
“Alright Sibtin, this is pretty much everything I need,” he said as he walked up to the man, “here’s hoping I won’t need to use half of this scrap, otherwise we may be in trouble at some point.” He said to him, slightly hinting at what he could be carrying with him now.

 

[pluvian_penguin]

Sibtin simply nodded, and watched him gather what he needed. There seemed to be a variety of odds and ends being put together into a backpack and fanny pack. They didn't take much interest in the contents. They had everything they needed for themself, and would be able to supply a few crucial things if Lykaon didn't have them. Sibtin was never sure what to expect beings to bring with them.

Lykaon did, however, bring armour and a weapon, which was the least that could be asked of him. Sibtin nodded to him, looked over his bag, and turned to lead the way down the hall.

There were a trio of landing pads a short way from the guild itself. The ferrocrete steps leading up to them were low, curving around one side of the pad with a metal railing on the outside, and Sibtin took them two at a time. Their ship was waiting for them, its cargo door tightly sealed, but its interior and exterior lights both at full power.

As they got closer, the ship had a distinct hum. Its onboard computers were fully functioning, and its hyperdrive idling in preparation for the jump he'd already keyed into the nav.

“Put your things wherever you want,” they said as the cargo bay ramp started to descend. They stepped onto it the moment it was fully lowered, not giving a spare glance to Lykaon or where he placed his things. There were a pair of lockers attached to the wall by the door. One was locked, as it held his own things, but the other would open at a touch, if Lykaon cared to store his things there.

The ramp closed behind them, and Sibtin went to the cockpit. It was visible from the cargo bay, down a hallway that went past only one door on the left, and two on the right. The left one was locked, as it led to his living quarters. The first on the right opened onto a fresher, and the one next to it, a storage room. The air was noticeably warmer and more humid than inside the guild's buildings.

There was no co-pilot's seat, as they didn't like anyone else to have control of their ship, but there was a semi-circular dark green leather couch along the edge of the curved room, just to the right of the doorway. Whoever sat there would have a good view out the windows, and Sibtin's chair swivelled so he could face them when they spoke.

As soon as Lykaon chose somewhere to sit, Sibtin began preflight checks. They'd left diagnostics running while they spoke to him, so most of it was already done, just waiting for them to look at it and confirm that everything looked good for takeoff.

“If you need nothing else, we will leave,” they said, not looking away from the displays in front of them.

 

[The Mechanist]

Lykaon followed his new ally to his vessel, it was obvious the Hunter wasn’t much for conversation but that suited the Kubaz just fine. Upon approaching the vessel Lykaon couldn’t help but admire its design. While he never became a full fledged ship mechanic, as a man who worked on droids he could respect the process that went into building such things.

Sibtin gave Lykaon the freedom to choose his corner, which the man did, at a work bench. He always needed somewhere to tinker and and good bounty Hunter would know how to work on their gear, and thusly would have a work bench. Settling his gear down he approached the couch and sat. “This is a pretty nice ship, you buy it? Build it? Earn it?” He asked the hunter as he got ready to take off.

 

[pluvian_penguin]

The question about the ship was a bit of a surprise. Sibtin had expected to hear something about the job, or their schedule, or where they were supposed to bring their target once they had him. But they were proud of their ship, and didn't mind the chance to brag about their prized possession.

“Custom built from a shipwright on my homeworld,” they said proudly. Their species wasn't the most technically advanced, but they'd figured out how to get into space. From there, they'd learned quickly from other species, and applied general knowledge to their planet's indigenous materials and cultural aesthetics. Anyone familiar with Barab I architecture would recognise the swooping curves of the silver metal that made up the edges of the control panel and the decorative elements embedded in the walls. The dark wooden panelling of the walls themselves, with long wavy grains that bore resemblance to breccia marble in some places, was native to the Barab system.

“There aren't many ships like this in the galaxy. Our shipwrights don't allow their craft to be given to outsiders. When I die, my ship will be returned to my homeworld, unless I designate one of my kind to take it.”

Barabels had little love for the galaxy at large. While it provided much in the way of challenge – and entertainment, the two went hand in hand – few understood Barabel nature at first glance, and fewer tried to improve their first impressions. They, in turn, had little inclination to 'behave and befriend' on the galactic stage.

“When I had it built two years ago, I sold my last one. Corellian, fast and small. Good ship for anyone. But this is better.” Not to mention a status symbol on their world.

“You'll find a seatbelt on the left side of the chair, if you want it,” they added. They were left-handed, themself, and everything on the ship was set to those preferences. Passengers were rare enough that Sibtin had decided not to accommodate them.

It wasn't much longer after that, that the ship lifted off the ground. Sibtin piloted with an ease that spoke of many years of experience. The ship was fast and responsive, rising vertically to then dart off, much like a dragonfly. Rather than rising straight into the air as they usually preferred, they went at a twenty-degree angle toward the stratosphere. Once in orbit, they'd kick in hyperdrive. It would be a noticeable jolt, enough to knock away any loose objects on a tabletop, but not entirely unpleasant.

 

[The Mechanist]

Lykaon nodded as Sibtin spoke, it was an interesting thing, ships being different across varying cultures. And Sibtins own was custom built for him, something that the Kubaz found himself envying.

“So this is a genuine Barabel ship then? Must be few of them out there then if they only stay within your species….” He said as he looked around. “I’ve got a ship myself but it’s just a cargo hauler, nothing special…” he added.

Eventually Sibtin went to the cockpit, and had the ship ascend into the atmosphere, the FTL kicking in as it made the jump. And now Lykaon was feeling some form of nervousness. A combination of anxiety and excitement. He had never gone on a hunt before and this would be his first. Maybe if this paid off he could do a few more and establish himself as a bounty Hunter as well.

 

[pluvian_penguin]

“Very few,” Sibtin confirmed. “Less than five thousand.” They were in rare and honoured company for having such a ship. And they could probably count the number of 'stray' ships – owned by non-Barabels – on both hands. Such ships were immediately recovered, and no concern given to the violence committed against the thieves.

There had only been two cases of ships remaining in non-reptilian hands. In both cases, an outsider had married a Barabel. Both individuals had been allowed to keep their dead spouse's ships, out of respect for their bond with the dead, but on the condition that those ships never left the planet.

It seemed strange to outsiders, Sibtin knew. They found it a perfectly respectable situation, and one necessary to keep their ships safe.

“Cargo haulers are suitable for many hunts,” they said, with a hint of approval in their voice. It was no ship to compare with their own, but there was no reason for them to say such a thing. Nothing could match a Barabel flyer – though that was largely a matter of opinion.

Once they were in orbit, Sibtin checked a few things on the ship's computers before setting a course to Nar Shaddaa. The autopilot would take care of the rest, and an alert would chime through the ship when they arrived in orbit. Every written word on the ship was in the Barabel language, as would be any spoken alerts.

In the meantime, they returned to the desk that Lykaon had chosen for himself. A droidsmith's work was beyond the scope of Sibtin's knowledge, but they assumed that no one was foolish enough to work on anything dangerous while in hyperspace. Lesser mistakes had gotten many a being killed.

“Anything you need?” they asked instead. Their ship's supplies were catered to their own preferences, but they might have something, if it was required. Or there were always many, many vendors on Nar Shaddaa. Anything could be found there, from slaves to endangered animals to starship missiles to Imperial secrets. It was the perfect place to hide from anyone – but them.

 

[The Mechanist]

Less than five thousand was what the man said, even to Lykaon he knew that was relatively small when compared to a planets population. He could only imagine how rare and expensive a ship like that would be to an outsider. And knowing Barabels, how dangerous it would be for an outsider to own such a vessel.

At Sibtins words about his cargo hauler Lykaon nodded, “well I appreciate your words. As for if I need anything? Nothing at the moment. Not unless you’ve got a droid lying around you’d like me to fix up for ya. Which shouldn’t be too hard considering the material that I see in here..” he said looking around.

“So, Nar shadaa? It’s been a long time since I was last there….back when I was still a droid mechanic. Good way to make money as everyone needs droids and everyone was usually willing to pay…usually.” He explained.

 

[pluvian_penguin]

Sibtin shrugged, an awkward movement that they weren't well-accustomed to. But more mammalian species seemed to like it when they mimicked mannerisms. Whatever would make their guest feel more comfortable. Barabels weren't known for their hospitable natures, and it wasn't Sibtin's general behaviour. But teams weren't efficient when there was fighting. They'd learned to keep things pleasant, by mammalian standards.

“I have a droid for basic maintenance, but it does not need fixing. You can run some diagnostics and repairs if you would like to occupy yourself that way, but I do not think it will distract you for long.”

There were few things that a droid could do for them. Some organics relied on droids for almost everything, but Sibtin had always been more of a loner. Beings were largely unreliable. Doing things themself ensured that it was all done correctly.

“I have been to Nar Shaddaa twice in the last standard year. A good place to pick up a lot of contracts. My first offworld job was there, as part of a security team for one of the Hutts. When we get there, I should be able to reconnect with some contacts, to get an edge on the other people hunting Osrik. We will not be the only ones trying to find him, but the Hutt informant system is second-to-none.”

 

[The Mechanist]

Lykaon listened to the offers of distracting himself but decided he didn’t need to.

“Thanks but I think I’ll pass this time around, the diagnostic would be quick and you said it yourself, nothing really requires my attention.” He said in response.

He listened as Sibtin spoke about his time on Nar Shadaa, picking up contracts and bounties and the like. “The hutts huh? I don’t think I’ve done any work for them. At least not directly, maybe some repair jobs for their goons.”

 

[pluvian_penguin]

Sibtin nodded. Their partner had presumably brought things of his own, to entertain himself, so they weren't going to push him to do anything else. They were careful to keep their ship and all its parts in good working order. It was a point of pride for them, to never let things get too damaged. And a matter of safety. They liked a challenge as much as any other Barabel, but they also liked being able to choose when a fight came their way, if at all possible. Faulty equipment was just an embarrassment to the hunter who was caught with it.

“The Hutts are some of the best-paying clients I have had,” they explained with a short nod. “I favour them for work when I can. Having cartels at their disposal makes them generous.”

Of course, in Sibtin's opinion, it was no more than they deserved. They considered themself to be a top-tier hunter. Not just through Barabel strength, but through the two decades they'd spent learning every trick of the trade. They'd gained their place at the top through strength, but they'd kept it through a mix of brawn and brains.

Admittedly, sometimes those brains were someone else's, making a mess of a floor, but that was a consequence of the trade. Someday their own strength would fail them, and they would be the one to get killed. But until then, life was pretty good.

“If you want introductions,” they suggested, “I can do that once we have finished this job. Osrik will be taken by someone else if we wait, but if we succeed, we will have enough credits to take our time with whatever other amusements you want.”

For most hunters, that would mean a Twi'lek girl or two, but Sibtin's tastes generally ran otherwise. Dancers held no appeal to him. It was strength, not grace, that intrigued a Barabel.

 

[The Mechanist]

“I would appreciate that, while I’m sure the empire would approve of us working with the hutts, they at least recognize they’re a necessary evil.” Lykaon said to him.

“And I could always use more credits, I only hope my name doesn’t end up on of those pucks,” he said with a soft laugh.

“So, how much longer till we’ve landed? I’m starting to get anxious just sitting here,” he said as he began to fiddle with some machinery in his belt. The man never could sit still, always getting nervous when idling for too long, he always needed a project, hence why he had so many to work on even now.