Before - Legends Hunter's Log, Tales of a Champion {The Old Republic} DDC 2015 - Updated 6/15/15

Title: Hunter's Log, Tales of a Champion
Timeframe: The Old Republic. Specific entry dates vary, but all take place prior to 3,640 BBY. If I continue this beyond the three chapters of the Hunter's story, some may take place after that.

Genres: Angst, romance, drama, character study, humor, coming of age, self-realization/actualization.

Characters: Kybrina Gammon-Sevrelle (LS Bounty Hunter), Mako, Gault Rennow, Torian Cadera, Blizz, Skadge (reluctantly), as many associated/affiliated characters as I can remember and cram in here.

Summary: The unwritten rule is to always keep things well secured when one has a roaming Jawa as a crew member. When Ky is out of commission after challenging a Sith Lord, her crew members uncover a record of her most personal thoughts. Some more...surprising than others.

Notes: Because Ky has grown on me so much since I started playing TOR again last year, I decided to explore her diary for this challenge. This should flesh out the stories she features in, eploring more of her thoughts about scenarios, characters, emotions, and otherwise that I generally don't want to fill fic space with. She keeps most entries in a vid format, with some written notes here and there that further flesh out her thoughts.

*****

At the sound of the closing door, Torian's attention turned from the fists clenched in his lap to Mako's approaching form. “There you are. How is she?” he asked, standing quickly to meet her in the center of the room. The past three hours had been silent torture for him; he was anxious for news about his riidur.

Mako sighed. “Finally stable enough for surgery,” she replied. Her eyes wandered to the ceiling of the room, which was the same austere shades of grey and white as the rest of the medical facility. This is Coruscant. She thought to herself in disappointment. You would think even their medcenters would have a few extra splashes of color. “Whatever Tormen did to her in that last battle, it did a real number on her. And I'm not just talking about the missing leg. The doctor was amazed she's held on this long.”

Torian nodded. “She's strong,” he said, tears burning his eyes as he heard the slight break in his voice. Fatigue, coupled with worry, were straining him beyond his usual emotional limits. “Just hate feeling this...helpless.”

Mako reached out and gave his shoulder a light squeeze. “I know what you mean,” she answered gently. “And I know just the thing to take your mind off all this.”

“Not sure I follow.” Torian frowned in confusion. How had their conversation veered in this direction?

“I'll show you,” Mako replied. “Let's head back to the ship for now. I told the doctor to contact us there if anything came up.”

**

Upon returning to the Mantis, Mako disappeared up its stairs for a few minutes before returning with something in her hands. “Look what Blizz found after we landed,” she said, handing Torian the datapad.

He handled it gingerly, taking note of its slightly battered condition and odd decoration. “Very...colorful,” he finally said, having struggled for tactful words for several moments. To an adult's eye, the bright colors and childlike doodles seemed almost tacky, but there was something endearing about them. His eyes widened as he turned the datapad over and saw the name scrawled on the bottom. “This...”

“Belongs to Ky,” Mako finished for him. “At first I thought the data on it was unusable; every time I turned it on, it returned an error about severely corrupted data.” She pressed a few buttons, and the datapad slowly started up. “It took an hour or so of fiddling with it, but I managed to salvage some old data, in addition to unlocking more recent data.”

“So, just locked down, huh?”

“Most of it was. Some of it was irretrievably damaged. But I salvaged a couple entries that were previously corrupted.”

“Entries? Like a diary?” Torian suddenly felt uneasy. As much as his curiosity was piqued, he was leery of digging through something so private.

“Curiosity kills the monkey-lizard, Torian,” Mako said. “You're the one who was always pestering me to tell him what Ky was like when I first met her. Well, now's your chance to see for yourself, straight from her.”

Torian nodded as Mako pressed one more button. With a low beep and a warning about data corruption, the datapad began its work. After a moment, an image appeared. It was one of a young woman, likely no older than her teens. Torian's eyes widened as he took in the details about the image; the blue eyes that stared straight ahead, the long flowing dress he had seen her wear less than a year earlier, the hair that had once been styled, but lay in loose waves around her shoulders...

“Kybri,” he whispered. No mistake, it was her. “When was this recorded?”

“Eight years ago, if the timestamp on the entry is still accurate,” Mako replied, her finger hovering over one of the buttons. “Curious about what she had to say?” she asked.

He nodded. “Go ahead and play it,” he said.

**

“'Happy Birthday, Kybrina Sevrelle. Be happy.' Just before the boarding ramp of the shuttle started to rise, Endro said those last words to me. I...I didn't think they would affect me this much. I mean, I've always liked Endro, always cared about him as a friend and a family associate. But I never thought anything he said would leave this sort of emotional mark on me.

But then, the past several months have left me so drained emotionally that I'm amazed I'm feeling anything right now. Late last year, Mother told me she had decided on someone for me to marry. She said it was a hard decision, trying to find someone who cared for me and whom I would care for in turn. She reminded me of her own arranged marriage with Father, emphasizing they ended up happy together in spite of the strange beginning. I personally wouldn't call the two of them 'happy'; there always seems to be some lingering issue Mother holds a grudge over.

All that aside, is she stupid? Scratch that, did she and Endro's parents lost their fracking minds? Or were they so self-absorbed they couldn't see their son wanted this marriage even less than I did? I remember that night when we were kids. Thracen and Niel had taken us on one of their camp-outs, and I got scared of the wind howling through the grasslands. Endro sat up with me all night, and we talked about all kinds of things. That was when he admitted to me he had no interest in any sort of romantic relationship. I don't remember the word he used, a-something something. But it meant he didn't have an interest in love or relationships. He enjoyed friends, made strong bonds with people that way. But he had no interest in love or marriage. Imagine how much that shocked a kid who was in love with romance!

I always did like Endro. He was Niel's age, and much like my big brother, he seemed to bond very closely to me. When Niel died, he took over as an adopted big brother of sorts. Maybe that's why Mother chose him, she saw how comfortable we were together and felt that made us a good couple. A part of me wishes that were true. Don't get me wrong, a part of me does want to get married and have a family of my own. But I don't feel ready for that now; I'm only seventeen years old. Why am I settling down now, when so many things can open up for me in life? Even Thracen didn't marry until he was well into his twenties, so what's the rush with me?

I do have one theory. Ever since my accident, Mother has treated me much differently than she had before. She had never embraced my learning to be a bounty hunter like Grandfather, Father, and my brothers, but she humored me. After I was scarred, she seemed even less tolerant toward it. When Niel died, she shut it down almost totally; it was only through Thracen and Father's machinations that I was able to continue learning anything at all. Was she simply trying to protect me, like she claimed? Or was she trying to stifle something that had become important to me, under the guise of 'protection'?

But all this looking backwards is rather moot now, isn't it? I'm leaving Deralia under my own volition, on what was supposed to be my wedding day. I'm even still in my dress, though I got rid of the awful hairstyle foisted on me by the woman Mother hired. Endro managed to swipe some of the food they would be serving at our wedding dinner that evening, so I'll be dining alone on a meal most people would think I should be sharing with him.

But...is this the right thing to do? More specifically, is this the right way to handle this? I know Mother will see this as a grave insult. There's a chance I may never be welcome back home on Deralia. Even Endro and Thracen seemed to express doubts this was the right decision. I had to remind them that, while I am still young, I do know what is the best course for me to take. And that course doesn't include marriage, at least at this point.

So farewell, Deralia. I doubt I will ever have cause to return to you again, or that I would be welcome to return to you without being shot on sight. As far as the dress? Maybe I'll hold onto it. A girl never knows when she'll need to wear a fancy dress in her lifetime, after all.

I'm...so tired. With all the wedding talk, I've barely had a full night's sleep in months. So I'll end this here and go lay down for a while. With a little luck, maybe I'll actually sleep tonight.

Ky out.”

**

Mako and Torian shared a look as the image faded out. Neither of them really had the words to talk about what they had just heard.

Finally, Mako found a few words. “That...was not what I expected,” she said simply. “I mean, I knew vaguely what she went through, but that entry really shows a glimpse of how much she was hurting.”

Torian gave a slight nod. “It did. Wonder what other secrets these entries hold.”

“I don't know,” Mako replied. “Still, we have plenty of time to find out, don't we?”

 

What an edge of seat and worrisome thing for Tor and Kybri's friends, the uncertainty of Ky pulling through etc. What a clever segue into finding and perusing her diary. Quite the initial entry there too! Kybri's thoughts on Endro and her family ... intense and poignant as she thinks she will never be welcome home again.

 

Gritting his teeth, Torian swung his legs over the edge of his bunk and stood up. Having heard that Kybri was finally fully prepped for surgery, Mako had returned to the medcenter with a promise to pass along any news that came from the doctors. This left Torian more or less alone on the ship; true, the rest of the crew was there as well, but he couldn't exactly spill his fears and secrets to Gault or Blizz. And considering Skadge kept glaring at him every time he simply walked by, that ruled him out as a confidant as well. Truth be told, he had no idea why the Houk was still aboard the Mantis. Shortly after they had departed Belsavis, Kybri had given him strict orders to get off her skip at their next stop. Yet much like a bad rash, the brutish thug still stuck around.

He had tried everything to get his mind off Kybri, from recalibrating his rifle's scope to patching the cracks in his armor to just laying on his bunk and trying to sleep. Nothing worked for very long; when he had checked his chrono earlier, he had thrown it across the room when it cheerily showed that only an hour had passed.

“Gotta get off this ship for a while,” he muttered to himself. Grabbing his pack, he started to leave the crew quarters when something caught his eye. He turned to Mako's bunk and took a closer look. A small smile touched his lips when he saw it was Kybri's diary, and he reached out and lifted it from its place on the bunk. A part of him hesitated, said this was Kybri's private thoughts, and he almost put the datapad back where it had been laying. But his fingers tightly clenched the small item, and he hastily left the ship before he could change his mind.

Coruscant was a busy place. Practically every corner of the planet hosted some impressive building or other, so it took Torian some time to find a quiet spot to settle into. At last he was successful; he located a small park in the shadow of a particularly tall building. He settled himself beneath a tree and pulled out the datapad; after fiddling with its buttons for a few minutes, he found the correct one and pressed it.

Another image of Kybri emerged. She wasn't in that dress this time; instead she wore some sort of mid-weight bodysuit and light armor. Her hair has woven into a sloppy braid, and his eyes traced the loose strands as they framed her cheeks and wide blue eyes.

She seemed...sad? Or worried? He couldn't tell. At least not until she began to speak.

**

“I've barely been here three months, and I'm already having to move on. Grandfather told me his cover story was wearing thin with Mother, now she openly suspects I've been hiding here with him since I left Deralia. Truth be told, I'm amazed it took her this long to figure it out. Where else was I supposed to go? How else would I regroup?

Grandfather gave me the news while I worked on my speeder. Stupid lump of space junk hasn't worked right since I hit that rock with it a year or so ago, and I've never been able to figure out why. I had just stepped away to grab a hydrospanner when he walked into the garage. He told me that I had to clear out, that Mother would be on her way to Garos IV to personally return me to Deralia. This time, he said...this time, she would ensure I would be married. I hate to think what that would end up entailing.

But...I just...why? Why won't anyone fight for me? Grandfather is Mother's Father, why won't he put his foot down and tell her off? It would be so easy for him to deny her, to tell her to leave me alone and let me find my own way. But he won't. Father didn't, Thracen tried, Sakai and Phanos are too young...there's really no one to advocate for me, is there? I have...I have to handle this all on my own. Be a big girl and fight the hard fight all by myself.

First thing's first. My things are all packed and stowed on the ship. Grandfather was adamant that it look as though I've never been here, and I did that. Once I leave this rock, I head to the hunter Grandfather told me about. He'll take me in, teach me more about being a hunter, show me all the things Grandfather couldn't, or didn't have the chance to. I guess I should be grateful, but I'm still too upset over this.

I feel like I'm losing another home. Deralia was my first, but Garos IV always felt like a refuge from it. A sanctuary from Mother's nagging and lessons, from Father's constrained concern. Being here, with my brothers, with Grandfather, with his apprentices...it was freeing. I never thought I would think of it in terms other than those.

I...I should get going. The longer I stand here crying over what I've had, the less chance I have of getting offworld long before Mother arrives. From there, who knows? Maybe I'll have some semblance of a home for a couple years. Or maybe I'll be bounced to yet another place I might try to call 'home'. I can't say. I will say, this does teach me not to get too attached to places.

Ky out.”

**

Torian felt a long sigh escape as the message ended. “Must have been hard, having to leave everything you knew,” he said softly. While he was growing up on Geonosis, he had more of an identity than she appeared to. He might have been a traitor's son, but he at least grew up with family, as well as a clan who treated him like family to a degree. To have to talk away from all of that, and for reasons out of your control...how did she endure that?

He placed the colorful datapad on his pack where it sat beside him. Carefully, he stretched his arms up toward the sky before lacing his fingers together and resting his hands behind his head. Mako had warned him this would be little more than a waiting game, so he would play it.

Closing his eyes, he waited.

 

Like how Tor's knowledge and empathy is growing. That must be hard indeed for Kybrina to keep losing those she thinks of as family through things that are out of her control. Yup, it would be way too easy and natural to decide not to get too attached to places... or people, either.

 

And here's the next entry. This is the last 'Prologue' entry before I start in on the entries that begin with her story in TOR. From here, the framing story may take a bit of a backseat here and there; so I may have three or four entries that are prefaced and ended by the framing device. That way, I'm not having to stop with every entry and explain what is going on. Anyway, here we go!

*****

He didn't know how long he had been asleep. Could have been an hour, could have been longer. But the steady beeping of his holo slowly roused him from sleep, reminded him of all the unpleasantness he had been hoping not to dwell on.

Straightening up, he squinted as the afternoon light struck him square in the eyes. Unclipping the holo from his belt, Torian activated it and waited for Mako's image to appear.

“There you are!” she said, sounding a bit annoyed. “I've been trying to reach you for ages now. Torian, where have you been?”

“Sorry. Needed to clear my head. Apparently was more tired than I realized,” he replied, feeling a bit embarrassed. This had never happened to him before, the stress of the past few days must have been slowly creeping in.

“Don't worry about it, I think it's hitting all of us. Anyway, I wanted to tell you that Ky's out of surgery,”” Mako explained. “I just spoke with the doctor. He said she's still not awake, but one of us can come and sit with her.”

“Great news,” he said, feeling a bit of the weight lift from his chest. “Any idea how long before she wakes up?”

“None. The doctor has no clue why she's still unconscious. He said most patients like her are already awake and talking. He has no explanation for why she's still out,” Mako let out a long sigh. “I suspect it has to do with that hellish fight with Tormen. Whatever happened, she took the brunt of it.”

Torian bit his lip, nodding as he felt worried tears sting his eyes. “Why...” he paused when he heard his voice crack slightly, and he took a second to clear his throat before beginning again. “Why don't you head back to the ship and get some sleep? I'll head over to the medcenter now and sit with her for a while.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

**

He sucked in a sharp breath when he entered the room and saw her. His eyes burned, and he felt himself rapidly blinking to fight the tears that kept welling up from them. He silently took note of the machines and tubes that were keeping her alive, then crossed the room and sat in the chair beside her bed.

Even unconscious, she was still lovely. He gently took her hand in his, entwining his fingers through her limp ones. In a low whisper, he spoke words of encouragement and love to her in Mando'a, willing his cyare to return to him.

Sitting back in his chair, he felt the pressure of her diary pressing gently into his back. Removing it from the pouch on his belt, he held it in his hand and stared at it silently for several moments. It felt riskier to read it here, where she could wake up and catch him with something so private. Yet he didn't have any other way to pass the time short of staring at her motionless form, so the risk felt worth it in his mind.

He remembered the button to press, and soon her familiar image appeared to him again. She was older in this image, and Torian had to remind himself that so much data on the datapad was corrupted. It was totally normal to skip large chunks of time between good entries. He took in the darker armor she now wore, her longer hair woven back in a severe braid, the helmet she carried under her arm, and his eyes lingered on the somber expression she wore. Something had happened, he could tell by that expression.

**

“I just got word from Garos IV. Grandfather...died two nights ago. I...I didn't want to believe it; I even told off Lithas after he gave me the news. But it's true. I spoke to him again today, and he re-confirmed the information. My grandfather, the man who taught me all the basics of being a good and honorable hunter, is gone.

In all honesty, I've expected this for some time now. One reason Grandfather quit hunting and took on so many apprentices was his health. Just before I was injured, he had been in the medcenter for some mysterious illness. He never liked to tell us kids about his health troubles, told us he didn't want to dump the burdens of age onto the heads of the young. But I knew there was trouble.

A year or so later, I accidentally overheard a conversation between him and Mother. She kept asking him how much longer he would keep pushing himself before his heart gave out, asked how many more hunts he had in him before he just dropped dead one night. It was cruel, yeah, but she had a point. Over that preceding year, he had been in and out of medical treatment for some disease or other, and he was showing signs of slowing down. He'd always had apprentices, young boys and men whom he taught the ropes of hunting to. After that night, he took on fewer jobs and more apprentices, until the latter took over the former.

Grandfather had hung up the hunting blasters for good, but paved the way for so many to follow in his stead. And now he's gone. He was more than my grandfather, he was also my friend, my mentor, my father figure...he was so much to me. And I'm sure he was just as much to my brothers. He loved his grandchildren so much, we meant the world to him.

Lithas gave...he gave me information about Grandfather's funeral. But I'm not attending. I can't, not when I know my family will be there. If Mother spots me, that's it for me. She'll make sure I never leave again, no matter what that means for me. No, I have to grieve privately and push forward. I just wonder if I have the strength to do it.

This also makes me wonder, why am I so timid about death? I've caused more than my fair share of it in the galaxy up to this point. With my mentors watching my back, I've shot many men, listened to them beg for mercy even as their life ebbs from them. So why is this different? Is it because he is family? Is it because it reminds me of my own future death? Or is it something else, maybe a reminder of everything I still wish to achieve?

No, I can't keep thinking about this. I have to focus on the future, especially with today's news. I got a call from an old hunter named Braeden. He's heard of me through his circles, and he wants to sponsor me for the Great Hunt. How amazing is that? Nial and Thracen talked about trying to gain entry into the Great Hunt back when we were kids, but Nial died before he had his chance and Thracen married and started his family. No need to risk himself when he has mouths to feed, I guess.

So I suppose it falls to me to achieve what my brothers dreamt. Braeden is paying for my passage to Hutta, where I'll meet him and his team. I'll say it, I've come a long way in the four years since I ran away from Deralia while in a wedding dress. Question is, how much further will I go before all is said and done?

Guess I'll be finding out sooner than I realized. Ky out.”

**

“And so it begins, huh Kybri?” Torian mused as he set the datapad aside. He saw that entry as the real start of her journey, the beginning of the chapters that shaped her as both a hunter and an individual. Mandalorians went through similar as they grew up and trained as warriors. There were many challenges that tested and shaped them into the warriors they were, and just as many that tested their bonds of camaraderie and kinship.

He was curious where those chapters would take his lovely riidur, but he could wait to learn more. At that moment, he felt his eyes growing heavy, and he settled back in the chair and allowed sleep to take him again.

 

Superbly touching, both Torian's musings and Kybrina's reflections on her grandfather. You can feel her conflicted emotions and her resolve. Moving forward is what she does best.

 

He was awakened by a shrill beeping sound, followed almost instantly by the thudding of footsteps. His eyes opened quickly and darted around the room, seeking the source of the noise. Before he could formulate any questions, he had been forcibly guided from the room and left in the hallway outside. His head spun, and the tightening in his chest only intensified. He had never heard an alarm like this, but he knew enough about alarms of all stripes that they rarely heralded good things.

A doctor stepped outside the room to update him, explained what the alarm was. For some unknown reason, she had started to bleed internally, and now was being rushed back to surgery to try and stem the blood loss. He listened wordlessly, his mind absorbing all the information it could grasp.

Once the doctor had left, Torian leaned back against the wall behind him, brushing his hand over his eyes to wipe away the sudden tears. How much more of this could she take, could any of them take? He wasn't asking for much, he just wanted her awake and alive. Why was that wish so hard to grant?

He figured hearing a few more entries of hers might soothe his mind a bit. Re-entering the room, he picked up the datapad from where he had set it earlier and pressed its buttons in the sequence he had memorized. As he image appeared, he took note of her state: civilian garb with minimal armor, small blaster pistol, basic helmet, hair tightly braided. He was confused, where had all the fancy armor gone?

**

“Well, I arrived. And boy am I unimpressed. I'm gonna be blunt, Hutta is a sludge pit. I can't believe anyone calls this dump their home.

I did some research before coming here. It said Hutta used to be called 'Evocar' and was the home to a race called the Evocii. Then the Hutts showed up. Everything always changes when the Hutts show up. It's like everything they touch turns to slime and credits. They apparently kicked the Evocii out and made this their home. Oh, the Evocii didn't go far, they apparently stuck around as slave labor for the Hutts. So typical.

But enough planetary history for one day. When I meet with Braeden, I'm meeting him as a protege and as myself. I packed away all that fancy armor I accrued over the past few years. It wouldn't do much good besides draw attention to myself, plus some of it really isn't all that protective. It also marks me, makes me seem more than I am, and I'm not keen on that. When I make my mark on this Galaxy, I want it to be because I'm Ky Sevrelle, Bounty Hunter of clan Gammon. Not because I'm Kybrina, granddaughter of a famous hunter. I can't sponge off someone else's Legacy as I build my own, it just doesn't work that way.

When the time is right, I'll pull that armor out and wear it proudly. But not one minute before. Of course, that does present a problem. Scars and hardware aside, I'm a relatively attractive young woman. I'm not an idiot, I know what that generally means in bounty hunting. It means a lot of 'little woman can't handle a blaster' jokes that I really don't have the stomach for anymore. Last time someone joked about that in front of me, he wound up spitting his front teeth out onto his boots. No one in our family takes kindly to that sort of drivel, and I'm no exception.

The sad part about that is it means I have to hide everything about me being a young woman, except around people I trust. That means I have to not only hide my face and figure, but my voice as well. I mean, who trusts a tough-looking hunter who speaks with a sweet lady's voice? Luckily I have a piece of tech to hide my voice, and even more luckily I can easily retrofit it into any helmet I pick up. That should make my life a bit easier.

So according to the information I received, I'm meeting Braeden and his team at the Poison Pit Cantina in Jiguuna. Kind of a telling name, I'd say. Reminds me not to get within two feet of the bar. Needless to say I'll be celebrating my time here on Hutta with a drink or two in a cantina on another world.

Time to go. I shouldn't keep them waiting. Ky out.”

 

Yikes, how nerve-wracking, being rushed back to surgery, never ever a good sign! Having to disguise your identity ... Hmmm. A cost/necessary in the situation.

 

Dully, he opened his eyes. He hadn't realized he had fallen asleep until another alarm awakened him. Checking a nearby chrono, Torian frowned a bit as he noted only an hour had passed. With no news of Kybri's condition, he decided to resume his prior viewing of her journal.

He activated the device again. Her appearance was identical to her previous entry, but her lovely features were marred by a frustrated scowl. He wondered what had happened to cause her to make that face.

**

Grandfather used to warn me about setbacks. He would tell me to never put all my hopes into one plan, because inevitably something comes along and dashes that plan to pieces. Then what? You're back to square one and you have to start over. How frustrating.

Why do I bring this up? I've sunk well below square one. I would say I'm around a square negative three right now. And there really isn't an easy fix for this one. It's not like running away from home and burning sky until no one can find you, much as I wish it were.

So I met Braeden, Jory, and Mako. They seemed like a good, decent team. Braeden was the brains, Mako was the tech, and Jory the muscle. Not a bad group to join up with. Braeden had an in with Nem'ro, the Hutt that runs this part of Jiguuna. Such as it is. He sent me on a few errands, the kind of small gigs that help get one's name out. Normally I'd consider this sort of thing beneath me, but I can't pass up even small job offers. I'm not banking on my family anymore, I have to do this myself. I just stick my helmet on, disguise myself, and do my thing.

And I did all that, and for what? I take care of this small-time Correllian thief who robs Imperial pay stations, only to come back to a murder scene. Braeden and Jory, both dead. Mako showed up right after I did, and initially accused me of being involved. She took it back right away, but damn. That stings. I barely knew them, but I had no reason to kill them. They were helping me out, weren't they? I got better things to do than kill folks who are here to help me.

Though she said the security footage had been tampered with, Mako was able to bring something up. She said it was some guy named Tarro Blood, though he let his cronies do the dirty work. Disgusting. Grandfather always told me that I should kill with my own hands, or not even bother. It's the ultimate cowardly act to start a fight, then let someone else clean up your mess. Or in this case, 'conveniently' walk away while your henchmen help you cheat. I really hate scumbags like him.

You know what makes it worse? I now have nothing to go on for the Great Hunt. Nothing except the armor on my back and the blaster at my hip. Apparently, Braeden poured everything he had into getting me into the Great Hunt, and now Blood spoiled that chance. Mako said my only chance is to get Nem'ro's sponsorship. Part of me isn't particularly optimistic about my chances. I've never trusted Hutts, they always seem the type to tell you one thing, then pull the rug out from under you. But it isn't as though I have options lined up out the door here. Mako and I...we're pretty much on our own here.

Well, here goes nothing. Thanks to Mako, I got an audience with Nem'ro. Let's see what the overgrown slug has to say.

Ky out.

 

Yikes, that is a setback! But I like seeing how she teamed up with Mako. Agree also about Hutt credibility.

 

Ugh, what the heck happened to March? I had a ton of stuff hit me at the same time, but I'm finally getting around to getting on track with this. This will be the start of those multi-entry sequences where there's minimal framing. I need to get things back up to speed here.

*****

“What are you still doing here?”

Dully, Torian looked up from his makeshift resting place in a corner of the room. Kybri had been returned an hour earlier; the doctor telling him that no further complications were anticipated. The earlier bleeding had been an oversight, albeit one that nearly killed him from sheer worry. Now, with her sleeping peacefully, his worn-out nerves were clamoring for sleep themselves.

Now he might have a chance. Mirarre, dressed as though heading out for a casual day on the beach, strode into the room. Her normal smuggler's garb was replaced by a loose jacket over what appeared to be a tube top, long wavy hair loosely tied back.

He gave a polite nod. “Mirarre,” he said in greeting.

“Don't 'Mirarre' me, cousin,” she retorted, hands on her hips. “We're family now, not business associates.” This was true. Since he and Kybri were married, her family was his. “And since family looks after itself, it's my turn to watch out for my little cousin here.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Of course. Besides, you look half-dead yourself. I got in touch with Mako, and she told me you haven't been eating or sleeping much in the past several days. Mirarre sat in the chair beside the bed and pulled out a datapad. “This lets me get some work done and gives me some space from Corso for a time.”

“Trouble with your husband, Mira?” he asked, hoping he wasn't prying.

She shrugged, activating the datapad. “Kinda,” she replied. “The big lout forgets that I can take care of myself sometimes. I don't need to be put on a pedestal and told how amazing I am, especially since I'm more than aware of that fact. I also don't need him flailing after me every time I so much as wink at another man. I like to tease men, it helps me get my way. But it doesn't mean I want to sleep with 'em.”

In spite of himself, a weak smile crossed his lips. Mira always found a way to amuse him, no matter how strange. “Okay, leaving her in your charge, Mira. I'm going to get some sleep.” She gave a distracted nod, and Torian left the room.

He kept his mind blank all the way from the medcenter to the ship; however, when he made his way to his bunk, all those thoughts he'd been pushing away returned in full force. There was no way he would be sleeping like this. He had to distract himself.

Pulling out her battered diary, he activated it again and set it on the table beside the bunk. He shifted to his side and closed his eyes, hoping her voice would help lull him to sleep in time.

**

“Finally, we made it! So long Hutta, you filthy cesspit of a planet. I can't say I'll ever miss you, and I hope I never have a reason to come back.

That stupid Hutt Nem'ro. I knew I couldn't trust him. Turned out I was doing his dirty work so he could turn around and backstab me! He gave his sponsorship to some two-bit Trandoshan merc, while trying to kill me in a pen of beasts. Not a great day to be a hunter, but at least I managed to survive. I almost shot that filthy slug between the eyes, but that would mean sacrificing the credits I managed to extract from him.

Hey, a girl's gotta eat somehow. I just needed to find that other hunter, Rarsk.

Mako and I are finally an official team. She decided to tag along with me over to Faathra's palace to take out that other hunter. To say she's good would be an understatement; in addition to being an expert slicer, she's also not too shabby when it comes to medicine. I'm studying being a medic myself, but I could always use the extra help.

If I thought Nem'ro's palace was easy to fight through, Faathra's was child's play. Of course, what really irked me was the other hunter was going after a Republic scientist Faathra was keeping imprisoned for whatever reason. Look, Hutt politics don't really interest me. But this woman seemed harmless enough, and I don't like killing unnecessary targets. So Rarsk really earned his death from me. Using Albea as bait, I was able to take him out and get the sponsorship token. That took care of that.

Rarsk made me remember why I despise so many other hunters. Yes, we get glory and credits I nthis line of work. But we really shouldn't lose sight of what's important. We are the vigilantes; we go after the folks the law won't typically touch. We aren't squeamish, like those saps working for the Republic. We don't worry about getting our gloves dirty, or playing nice for the sake of appearances. We do what we do and we get the job done. Whatever happens from there, happens. What we don't do is take out those unrelated to our targets. I could have collected on the bounty on that Republic scientist. But to what end? A few credits in exchange for my ethics as a hunter? No thanks, I'll tighten my belt a bit more before I stoop to that level.

With the blessing of Grataa, I hopped a shuttle to Dromund Kaas and got here jut a bit ago. I'll report more when I've had the chance to poke around some. For now, I think I need a shower.


Ky out.

 

Stoked this is back and stuff is easing up for you Sabyne!

Mirarre is a trip I can so hear Mara saying that about Luke or Mirax about Corran. Happy that Mako and Kybrina are an official team!

 

Glad to see a Kybrina diary! I liked her appearances in the oneshots collection, so it's great to get some more of her story here. (By the way, thanks for listing your stories in the Prolific Writers Index -- it's a big help in keeping track.)
(reviewing early entries)

Using the end of a major battle as the framing device works really well, since we get to see Mako and Torian's concern and the danger Ky is in -- and then comes the story behind it.

There is no privacy on that ship, apparently. Love the detail of it having been doodled on, that's kind of precious (though I don't think Ky will think so. )

Nice that we start with a window into Ky's early life and her decision to strike out on her own. Not easy, and her words reflect that.

Liked the touch of dark humor about holding onto the dress -- which apparently did come in handy at some point. (Also, I liked that Endro was different from the type of character that usually fills in that kind of role. He's clearly a close friend and not a jerk, but just not someone either of them wanted to be married to her.)

 

Next entry!

**

Different types of stenches.

When Thracen first took me on a bounty hunt, he taught me there are different types of stenches. Some, like those coming from the swamps on Hutta, are more obvious. They're huge, fetid wastelands that spew noxious mixtures into the air. Those you can mark on a map and avoid. The stench you can't avoid is the one of haughtiness and arrogance. It's difficult to dodge a snob until you're within earshot, he once told me at a party.

Which is probably why I hate Dromund Kaas so much. The stench of arrogance is everywhere, to the point where I feel like I'm soaked in it. Every Imperial and Sith on this damned planet thinks they're some great and wonderful thing, and most only deign to speak to me if they must.If it didn't result in my immediate execution, I'd just as soon put a blaster to each of these idiots' heads and pull the trigger, I'm that fed up from dealing with them.

On to happier news. I finally got to the Mandalorian enclave and met my handler. Crysta Markon, she said her name was. Interesting woman with a sweet accent and a tall mohawk. Reminds me of the time I tried to style my hair in a mohawk when I was around 13. When Mother saw me wearing it, she was so angry she grabbed a pair of shears and cut if off right then and there. Then I had to endure the humiliation of my hair being all different lengths until it grew out enough for me to fix it. Anyway, Crysta's been giving me good support. She remarked that someone must have something against me, what with the jobs I keep getting. I can think of one person in particular who would love nothing more than to make my life harder. Not that he's going to suceed or anything.

I did complete my first bounty here on Dromund Kaas. Long story short, there was this Republic noble who was accidentally made a slave instead of being ransomed back to his family. Or so I was led to believe. I still can't keep this story straight; something about his having a Sith lover, him masquerading in public as her brother...I don't even know. At any rate, the old witch tried to bribe me to kill him, but I decided to give him a long carbonite nap instead. I don't need some smug Sith's credits, and I don't need her telling me how to do my job, thanks.

Anyway, got my next mission. Off to see this Admiral Fraabaal about the contract he put out. It's kinda unusual for an Imperial admiral to use a Bounty Hunter, so this could be interesting.

Ky out.

 

Wonderful reading about Kybrina's early missions. Using her hunter's discretion, too, I see.

 

Oh, man. I really need to keep track of my months. Frickin' real life. Anyway, I'm back to updating. Barring any major snafus I should be able to keep this pretty regularly from here on out.

******

Rolling to his back, Torian covered his eyes with his left hand. How long had he been asleep; minutes, hours, days? He had been so drained it was difficult to say.

He shifted to squint at the chrono that sat near the bed, smirking to himself as he saw the digits glowing eerily on it. He had been passed out for the majority of a day; seemed like all his stress and worry for Kybri had finally taken its toll. It also explained how soundly he had slept, nothing short of the ship itself blowing up could have woken him.

He looked around the room, taking note of the quiet sounds of his crew mates sleeping. He gave the chrono another cursory glance; its digits confirmed it was the middle of the night. He had always had this bad habit of waking up at odd hours, a habit he blamed on countless nights spent on watch duty. Making sure not to disturb any of the others, he quietly changed his clothes, grabbing Kybri's holo before slipping off the ship. Now that he was awake, he wanted to hear more of her story, but waited until he sat near the ship inside the docking bay.

He pressed the familiar button, smiling as her image reappeared.

**

I still hate Sith. And Imperials. I always recall Grandfather telling us kids how he hated taking contracts put out by either of those factions. Their terms were always skewed heavily in their favor, and sometimes they tried to skimp out on the bargain once the task was completed. Not my idea of good people to work with.

So, I'm back from Lord Grathan's estate. If you can call it that. What the hell is wrong with this planet? Is there something in the water, something that makes people utterly nuts? Or is it just me being the odd one out? Yet again.

Before I hit the estate, I was contacted by this Sith apprentice. He told me his master wished to have me wipe out a cult that lived deep in the jungle. And I set out to do that, initially. Then I started speaking to them, learning their ways and their teachings. I don't call myself a Revanite, but I can see why others might flock to them. Were I not already a hunter, it might be a nice life. But I am one, so it's a moot point. At any rate, I didn't do as that apprentice asked me to. The guy was an arrogant jerk, so going along with the leader's request and framing his master as a Revanite was pretty satisfying. One or two fewer Sith in this galaxy. Not a bad thing in my book. If they actually paid their contracts, I might shed a tear over their passing.

Now, about Grathan....

To say the man is disturbing would be very kind. He experiments on whomever he can get his hands on. Even Imperial grunts. My dislike of most Imps doesn't extend to the front-line soldiers, and their Duchess was frantic worrying about them. That sick freak was yanking their brains out and slapping them into war droids. Who the hell comes up with ideas like that? At least I did them the service of putting them out of their misery, poor fellows.

Also, what is it with crazy Sith lords and their equally crazy staff? There was this woman who wanted me to slice into a computer and retrieve data for her to sell to a buyer. The woman was a bit too cheerful when it came to me fighting my way through the facility, kinda creeped me out. But when I went to download the data, the scientist who was working on it asked me not to. Apparently, he has this big dream of using it to better the lives of others, soldiers and civilians alike. Or something like that, my eyes glazed over a bit as he went on and on. But I didn't take his data, I slapped something else on the spike and handed it over to that nutty scientist like it was nothing. Maybe I picked something funny, who knows?

So I was hunting Admiral Fraabal's daughter. He asked me not to bring her back, but to kill her. Sorry, not my style. I don't like getting involved in family crap like that, especially when someone's life is in my crosshairs. I admit, I was tempted, though. When she started up with the smug Sith act, telling me she could so easily best me, I thought about putting a bolt between her eyes to shut her up. Honestly, she was giving me a headache. Strangely enough, it disappeared when I beat her into submission using only my blasters and a few licks of fire. Trust me, never has something been as satisfying as freezing that little brat in Carbonite and taking her home to daddy. I was so smug I even blew a kiss to the Admiral's secretary. The man answered by turning an amusing shade of red, likely remembering how I teased him when I first spoke with him.

The Admiral? Less than pleased, initially. He was insistent I should have killed her, but I pointed out this was a family problem, and he needed to resolve it with her. He got real quiet after that, seemed to think things over before dismissing me. Maybe that's a good sign? I don't know.

At any rate, there's a tall drink calling my name from the Nexus. I figure I'll go nurse it before heading back to the enclave.

Ky out.

 

Fun and astute observations about various Imperial/Sithly types. After a bit, Kybrina will think: What strange thing haven't I heard?