Chapter Text
Din Djarin walked through the bustling streets toward the town’s main cantina. It was rare that he got to meet directly with a client.
The client in question was Castor Vesta, a mining tycoon and part-time pleasure house owner based out of Taronda in the Mid Rim. Although from what Din understood, he owned several mines on other planets. Vesta got his start by finding more efficient ways of extracting and refining the silicate minerals that made up Taronda’s crust. Vesta had worked with the Empire, although it was difficult to hold this against him. Vesta Industries wasn’t the only business that had been coerced into dealings with the fallen government. But when the New Republic came to his door asking questions, he was cooperative and had showed them every record he had available pertaining to his business with the Empire. Now Castor Vesta carried on with business as usual, even providing the New Republic with his raw materials. In addition to mining, Vesta invested in a variety of other ventures from rental properties to restaurants, and of course, his famous pleasure house back on Taronda. Why one of the wealthiest men outside the Core would invest in a pleasure house, Din didn’t know.
He wasn’t in a position to ask questions, of course. Guild regulations.
As soon as Din approached the entrance of the cantina, Karga strode through the crowd to greet him. “Mando! So glad you could make it. I don’t think a client’s ever been more excited to meet you.”
Din scanned the cantina. “Where is he?”
“Upstairs in the master suite. He’s staying the night. He didn’t want to draw the attention of any other hunters. Plus, he has company.”
“Company?” Din asked.
“One of his…women.”
Din said nothing.
Karga walked toward the stairs to the guest rooms with the Mandalorian bounty hunter following closely behind. Even though they didn’t know about this potential job, Din still felt the eyes of his fellow bounty hunters on him.
The men arrived at the suite where they were greeted by two guards who opened the door. The magistrate and the bounty hunter were greeted by a cheerful voice. “Ah! I was wondering when you two were coming up!” Sitting on one of the two couches in the living room was Castor Vesta himself. He was a thin but somewhat muscular man in his sixties, with shoulder length grey hair and very wrinkled, pale skin. Despite his age, his angular features and well-groomed silver facial hair indicated that he might have been a handsome man in his younger days. While he was sitting down, Din also noticed that he was holding a cane. Din gave the rest of the room a quick scan. There was a refresher, and a small kitchen, although Vesta didn’t seem like the kind of man who prepared his own meals. Off to the far right of the room was a thick curtain, presumably leading to the bedroom. No sign of any “company” in the living room. Must have been sitting silently in the bedroom.
“I’m Castor Vesta,” the man said as he stood up to greet Din, holding out his hand. ”Karga here’s told me a lot about you. I’ve always been fascinated by your people. Really. Ever since I was a little boy. It’s exciting to finally meet someone who truly practices the Way of the Mandalore.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Din shook the man’s hand.
“Please, gentlemen, let’s sit,” Vesta motioned to the other couch and the men sat down. After a beat, Vesta spoke. “As you may well know, I have a son missing.”
“Yes, terrible shame,” said Karga.
Vesta sighed dramatically, tightening his hands around the cane. “You know how kids are sometimes. You give them food, shelter, an education, and love their whole lives and what do they do? They run away with a nice chunk of your hard-earned money.” Vesta laughed emptily. “Still, between the three of us, I don’t think the kid’s that fucking smart. And given your reputation, Mando, I think you’ll make short work of this.”
“How much are you offering?” Din asked.
“80,000 credits for my son’s safe return, with 20,000 going to you, Karga. Although…if you can bring him back within two weeks, I’ll raise it to 100,000/40,000. Money’s no object, really. I spare no expense when I see a good investment, and you, my friend, have a hell of a reputation.”
Din was pleasantly surprised. He could sense Karga shooting him a wide-eyed look.
“I can assure you, Vesta. His reputation is earned. You won’t be disappointed,” said Karga, who looked even more intensely at Din.
“I just want my son back, safe and sound. Although if you have to put him in carbonite for a bit, I absolutely understand.”
“I can do that. Where’s the puck on him?” asked Din.
“Already taken care of.” Karga pulled a puck out of his robes and handed the puck to Din. He pressed the puck’s button to reveal a holographic image of the bounty: Aldis Vesta. Crimes: embezzlement, theft of property, vandalism. Price: 80,000 credits. The holographic image displayed the face of a thin, sullen-looking young man with light hair. He couldn’t be older than 25. A small part of Din thought it was a little cruel of Castor Vesta to place such a hefty bounty on his own son’s head. A very small, small part.
“Hm,” Din grunted, tucking the puck away. “Thank you, sir.”
“No, thank you. I have total faith in your abilities,” Vesta smiled warmly at him. “There is one thing though. You’ll have to return him directly to Taronda, if you don’t mind. I have some business to closely monitor in the mines there during these next few weeks. It’s just easier that way. I’ll even cover your fuel if you want it.”
“That’s fine,” said Din.
“Excellent!” said Vesta, gleefully. “And see it this way: when you return my son, I’ll make sure you’re treated to the finest night of your life at the Trove. Karga, will you be joining us?”
Karga chuckled, “I think I’ll need a rain check on that. But I wish I could. I’d give up everything to see this man right here loosen up.”
“Right,” Din cleared his throat and stood up before things could more embarrassing. “Vesta, this is a generous offer. I’ll make sure your son is back in your custody.”
“See you then!” Vesta replied jovially. Din continued towards the door.
If Din had been paying closer attention, he would have seen the curtain to the bedroom move just an inch to the side. From the slight crack between the cloth and the door frame, a pair of furtive, curious eyes were watching him closely.
…
Rania emptied the contents of her stomach into the vacc tube. She had been hoping that she’d be able to control her sickness during her second time, technically third, aboard a ship, but this hope was dashed as soon as they’d entered into hyperspace. Rania wiped away the hot tears that ran down her face, thinking for a moment that that was the end of it. Then the acidy taste returned to her mouth and she retched into the toilet once more. Thankful that she hadn’t gotten any on her clothes or hair, she stood on shaky legs to look in the mirror. She studied her face for a moment. Her tan complexion was drained of more color than usual given what had just happened. The whites of her green eyes were bloodshot. As she washed out her mouth, she resolved to close her eyes as much as she could. It wasn’t wise to focus on the stars zooming past.
Rania walked on jelly-like legs back through the long hallway to bridge where Castor Vesta was waiting for her. He sat in the center, staring at the outside while his staff remained at their stations, manning the ship. Rania stared at the floor.
Vesta swiveled his chair around to face her. “Rania! There you are. Honestly, I don’t know how I’m gonna take you anywhere if you get sick every time you’re aboard a ship.”
“Forgive me, my love,” said Rania. “It’s only my third time in space. I’ll need to get used to it.” Her throat still stung.
Vesta grinned at her, patting to his knee. “Come, my dear.” Rania walked swiftly toward him to sit on his lap.
“Sorry I neglected you, my gem. You know how busy work gets.” Vesta curled his fingers around the bare flesh on Rania’s waist. Clad in lacy champagne-colored teddy, a matching panel skirt, and a golden chain encircling her hips, the outfit left just enough exposed skin to entice onlookers, but covered enough to ensure that the only way they were guaranteed a better view was by paying a hefty price. With the exception of Vesta, of course.
“Don’t be silly, my love,” Rania smiled as she focused on the area between his eyebrows, trying to avoid his piecing blue eyes and the stars flying by. “I don’t mind at all. It’s the work you do that allows us to have such a wonderful life together.”
Vesta touched her cheek. “You always say the sweetest things, don’t you?” He snapped his fingers, and the crew stood at attention. “Put this ship in autopilot and leave us.” The crew did as he commanded immediately.
“Take off your clothes.” Like the crew, Rania did as he commanded.
As Vesta took her from behind in the middle of the bridge, Rania closed her eyes. To the stars, to the bridge, to him.
You’re so close.
If the Mandalorian bounty hunter is as good as they say, you may have no more than two weeks.
You’ll probably never get this lucky again.
200 more credits more makes 22,000.
And then you’re free.