Private Going On a Pyke Hunt

[Pal Veda]

“Not bad,” Veda admitted, “But you forgot a fundamental rule of the game.” He removed a small vial from the med kit and attached the largest, thickest needle to the end. “You can’t get paid if you die collecting the bounty.” Jam! He stabbed the needle into Rissk’s scaly arm and injected the light blue liquid. I bet that hurt. But this is really gonna hurt. He grabbed the knife with two hands and slid it out of Rissk’s chest, then quickly plugged the wound with a bacta coated bandage.

Veda took a look in Dromon’s direction as he walked off. “Don’t worry about Jon. He’s not known for being a softy.” He chuckled to himself. “A callous son of a queen, but he’s good at his job.” Truth is, Veda could have left the Trandoshan here to die. He barely knew him. But he knew it never hurt to have someone owe you a favor in this line of work. This kid may be the next big thing. Doubtful, but maybe.

The bacta field dress would keep Rissk alive long enough. For now, they had to get out of here before anyone tried to poach their hard earned bounty. “B1,” he called to his droid, “Let’s get back to the ship. Drag that scumbag.”

Veda turned back to Rissk and pulled the Trandoshan off the ground. “I’m taking Mol into his Pyke friends. Go find a medic then get out of this Sith hole. Radix will transfer the creds to you when we collect, same as Jon. I’ll make sure you get paid.”

Rissk

 

[Rissk]

Rissk curled up his lip as Pal jabbed him with the needle, but that was all. He fell into plenty of 'new hunter' clichés, but a low pain tolerance, and fear of needles, were not among them. Of course, taking the knife out of his chest elicited a harsher growl of pain, but he was quick to get over that, too. He was T'doshok. A wound like this would scab over in a couple hours.

The more experienced hunter's words, however, stuck a little longer. "Yeah. Okay," he eventually said, burning eyes narrowing in thought.

“Don’t worry about Jon. He’s not known for being a softy.”

"Mmm..." Rissk's harsh face softened a little. Jon's dismissal had shaken him more than he'd like to admit. Something to stay up late thinking about, he supposed.

Getting pulled to his feet, Rissk leaned back on his heels, slinging his shotgun over his shoulder. They were scattering to the winds, but Veda ensured Rissk would get his cut. The Trandoshan smirked, already seeming to regain some of his youthful verve. "Yeah, you better. Or I'll be hurting myself hunting you, nexssst." He winked, before turning, shoulders held high.

Not a bad start. No, not a bad start at all.

- Pal Veda - Jon Dromon -