Keldabe Kiss: A Mandalorian Love Story

Planet: Kerlit

City: Morymento

I sat in a run-of-the-mill cantina near Morymento’s spaceport. It was my kind of place. Not too big, with no overpriced drinks, and no over-dressed socialites crowding the place and annoying me. It was just a nice small bar on a remote planet in the outer rim. I came out this way for several reasons. I had just turned 25 years old and had never really left Mandalore for any extended period and I needed to see a few things for myself. In addition, I had just ended a relationship with a shabla schutta of an aruetii that lasted for eight excruciating years, and I needed a big change of scenery. When I approached my buir, Doneb, with my intention to leave for a while, he actually seemed relieved. He gave me the use of his old Skipray blast boat and 30,000 credits to start my journey.

He also gave me his prized possession, an antiquated Mandalorian Assault Rifle. My ba’buir had used it during the Clone Wars and had given it to my buir, who used it during the Galactic Civil War. It had been upgraded as needed throughout the years, although, after looking it over, it could still use some upgrading. Even still, it still fired true every single time.

My family was considered both traditional and non-traditional by Mandalorian standards. For the most part, we held true to True Mandalorian ideals. We mostly worked as farmers and mercenaries, just trying to “make our way in the universe” as the saying goes. The non-traditional part came in the form of our names. There are many families who go by the belief that a name has to mean something in order for it to be a good name. On Mandalore, that means that your name should be based on strong words in Mando’a. My ba’buirs and even my buirs did not share this belief. My father always used to tell us, “You can have the strongest Mandalorian name in the galaxy but it doesn’t mean anything if you can’t live up to it. Don’t let your name define you. Let your actions define your name.” I know it sounds kinda hokey, but it’s become something of a mantra for me, and a good guide while away from home.

So, as I was saying, I was seated at the bar in a cantina on the planet Kerlit. I didn’t have any real reason for being on that particular planet beyond refueling and I decided to relax a bit before taking off again. I sat on a stool on the left-hand side of the bar where it met the wall. From my seat, I got a pretty good view of all of the patrons, but more importantly, I could see both exits. My left arm rested on the bar next to my helmet and a frosty mug of the local ale. My right hand, holding a datapad, rested in my lap. Since I had nothing to do, I decided to check the local Most Wanted postings, figuring that if I found a scumbag worth bringing in, I might as well fatten my wallet a little while I waited.

Ahead of me, a devaronian bartender worked his way toward me while he was “wiping down the bar.” It was early afternoon so the cantina was pretty sparsely occupied, and I guess the bartender figured that a Mandalorian must have SOME good stories, given our reputation. Personally, I’ve never liked or trusted devaronians. With their demonic horns, pointy teeth, squinty eyes, and high-pitched voices, they always seemed like they were doing something underhanded. So when the bartender got close, I casually flipped my datapad over and took a sip of ale from my mug. I savored the bitter taste as it coolly slid down my throat. I was definitely going to have to come back here for another one of these one day.

“So uh, you here on a job big guy?” The bartender inquired in a high-pitched nasally voice.

I grunted, “Nope, and even if I was, it’s no business of yours.” I’m only 1.68 meters tall and at that time in my life there was nothing that annoyed me more than being reminded that I was shorter than average. Names like, “Sport” and “Big Guy” just irritated me to no end. But I didn’t want to make a scene, so I just shot the bartender a glare that said, “I don’t want to be bothered.” And the bartender held up his hands and walked away.

I flipped the datapad back over and reviewed the bounty listings, thinking to myself as I read. Let’s see, a 34-year-old human female wanted for petty burglary with a bounty of $500.00. Too small. The door to the cantina opened and a dozen individuals walked in as I brought up the next file. 62-year-old blue-skinned twi’lek male wanted for arson with a bounty of $1000.00? That’s better but still too small to waste my time on it. A smile edged up on my face as I read the next entry. Iridonian male, age unknown wanted for battery, assault on a safety official, attempted murder of a safety official, 2 kidnapping charges, another assault charge, and disorderly conduct. Bounty is set at…20,000 credits! Well, I guess I might be here for a while after all.

Suddenly the bartender was standing next to me looking over at the crowd that just walked in. “Ok mister Mandalorian bounty hunter guy!” He proclaimed in a raised voice. “You can stay here, but don’t cause us any trouble ok?”

I glared at the bartender and then looked out at the room as suddenly all eyes were on me. I think that’s my queue to leave, I thought to myself. I downed the last of my ale, hopped off the stool, and put my bucket on. It took a couple of seconds for my HUD to come up and when it did, I found myself staring into a broad torso. I glanced up and saw an Iridonian standing in front of me. He stood at about 2.1 meters tall and had a plethora of deep scars covering his grey skin. In fact, he looked kinda like the Iridonian whose bounty I wanted to cash in on. Actually, he WAS the Iridonian whose bounty I wanted to cash in on.

It was then that I realized that I made a mistake in choosing to sit where I had. While it was true that with my back to the wall, no one could sneak up behind me, I had literally put myself in a corner and was now surrounded by my target and five of his companions. Not wanting to make a bad situation worse, I turned up the output on my external speakers and looked up at the zabrak.

“May I help you?” I asked in the most gentile voice I could muster.

“Yeah mando!” Came his gruff reply. “We don’t take kindly to no bucket heads here.”

Now at this point, one part of my personality took over that I try to keep a handle on. In my family, I am known to be a stickler when it comes to grammar, and I have annoyed everyone I know at least once by correcting them. I also happen to be a bit of a wise-ass, and I frequently use sarcasm, also to the chagrin of my family. When you take those attributes, add to it a good dose of Mandalorian stubbornness, and wrap it up in beskar’gam, you are asking for trouble.

So, before I could stop myself, I replied, “So that means I can stay! Good because I really like this place!” and I turned to sit back down at the bar.

The zabrak and his cronies looked confused, and I heard a round of “huh?” The Iridonian stepped closer, spun me around, and glared at me, as if his stare could penetrate my bucket and frighten me. “What did you just say?”

I casually shrugged, “You used a double negative.” When he still looked confused, I explained it to him. By this time, more people had entered the cantina and our confrontation had started to gather quite an audience. I shook my head. “See, you said that you do not take kindly to NO bucket heads here. That, my friend, is a double negative. So, by saying that you don’t take kindly to NO Mandalorians, you are saying that you do take kindly to us. So, thank you for your hospitality.”

Around us, the crowd began to chuckle at the spectacle of a 1.68-meter-tall Mandalorian staring down, or up in this case, and giving grammar lessons to a being that was a full head taller than him.

The zabrak was now visibly angry, “Now listen you little punk! Get out of here before me and my boys take you out and expose your vital organs to daylight!” He moved to grab me but stopped short when he felt something pressed to his stomach.

During our brief conversation, he didn’t pay attention to the fact that I slowly worked my blaster pistol out of its holster. I now had him dead to rights, but I was also presented with a problem. While I had no qualms about killing an individual, especially one that threatened to disembowel me, and the bounty record DID say “Dead or Alive”, I had to deal with the fact that if I shot the zabrak, his cronies would most likely jump me. And while I had every confidence in my skills as a fighter, I doubted that I could take on five individuals at once. I also realized that I really didn’t have any other option. So I shrugged and jumped up throwing my head forward, landing a blow right on the zabrak’s chin making him stumble back into the three cronies, all human males, behind him. I quickly shifted my aim to the right and fired off two quick shots at the bothan and the twi’lek on my right hitting both in the chest and dropping them.

Down to three.

Around us, the crowd was already screaming and dispersing. The Iridonian and his three remaining companions recovered quicker than I’d liked, and my target slipped behind his lackeys, using them as a shield. “Take care of him!” He ordered and bolted towards the exit. The three men rushed towards me. I managed to fire off two more shots, taking out two of the men, before the third crashed into me and slammed me up against the wall. Stars briefly flashed before my eyes. I shook my head to clear it, raised my right hand, and brought the grip of my pistol crashing down on the ear of the man, knocking him out cold.

I started toward the door then paused, jabbing a finger at the devaronian bartender, making him jump. “You stay put mirsheb,” I ordered. “I’ll deal with you later.”

I exited the building and looked to my right then left and saw my target quickly walking away. He briefly turned his head to look behind him and a look of utter terror crossed his face when he saw me. He turned his head back around and immediately started sprinting. I couldn’t help but smile. He’s running I thought to myself, I love it when they run. I reached into one of my belt pouches and pulled out a short cylindrical tube and attached it to the barrel of my blaster. I raised the weapon, took careful aim, and fired, hitting my target in the rear right shoulder. I removed the attachment from the blaster and put it back in its pouch. I double-blinked at an icon in my HUD and the layout of the city was superimposed in front of my eyes with a flashing strobe heading away from me.

The tube I attached to my blaster contained a micro transmitter encased in a ball bearing, which fired a split second before the blaster bolt. The tube also diffused the bolt’s power just enough to cauterize the wound left by the bb entering the target’s shoulder. As far as he knew, he had just been shot by a blaster bolt. He didn’t realize that now there was literally no place he could run where I would not find him.

The transmitter did not have a very long range, so I started off at a decent run to track down my prey. One thing I had come to realize in my short time hunting was that once in danger of being caught, most scumbags sprint away from you, burning up most of their energy in a very short time, causing them to try and hide after a relatively short distance. So, I paced myself so as not to burn out my energy reserves, lest I be forced into another physical altercation.

The Zabrak ran farther than I thought he would and led me on a merry little chase that wound throughout the city. After 25 minutes, I noticed the beacon, and therefore the Iridonian it was attached to, had stopped moving near the mouth of an alleyway. From the layout in my HUD, it looked as if he was pressed up against the wall. As I neared his position, I changed my visor to infrared mode and immediately saw his red and white silhouette through the wall. From where I stood, I could tell his back was pressed against the side of the alley closest to me with his left hand raised. In his hand, I could make out the shape of a hold-out blaster. He looked like he was waiting for me to either run by him so he could shoot me in the back or run headlong into him where he would shoot me in the face.

Since I wasn’t in any particular hurry to die, I decided upon a third option. I reached for a stun grenade with my left hand, while switching the pistol in my right hand to “stun”. I sidestepped a few paces to my left, activated the grenade, and lobbed it toward the alley. I quickly switched my HUD from infrared back to normal as the stun grenade flew toward the alley. To my surprise, it bounced perfectly off the far wall, entering the alley a split second before going off, giving my target little to no chance of avoiding it. I cautiously entered the alley and found the Iridonian on the ground struggling to get up.

I put him down with two stun bolts and holstered my weapon. I walked over cuffed the scumbag and began to search him, removing a second blaster and 4 knives in the process. Now I had to get this guy down to the public safety office, so I brought up the location on the map in my HUD and my heart sank. Six blocks! I groaned to myself as the thought of lugging an unconscious zabrak six blocks did not appeal to me on any level.

It was then that I spotted a two-seat swoop bike a couple of meters down the alley. I looked back up and down the alley for an owner as I walked towards the bike, skeptical of my apparent good fortune. I looked the bike over and it seemed in pretty good condition. I swung my right leg over the seat and settled myself down in the saddle. I didn’t see an ignition sequencer so I pulled out my omni-tool and started to loosen the bolts on the ignition cover, hoping that I might be able to hotwire the bike.

Just then a figure walked into the mouth of the alley. Well, “walked” might be too strong of a word to describe how this rodian moved. Even from where I was, I could have sworn I could smell the alcohol on him, even through my helmet. Besides his movement, what really caught my attention was the ignition sequencer he held in his right hand. He took a couple of stumbling steps and lifted his head toward the swoop bike only to see me seated on it. A look of confusion came over his face.

“Hey buddy.” he slurred, “Are you to guy I lost my bike to?”

I quickly looked around and saw no one else in the alley I shrugged and nodded. “Yep, that’s me. Now hand over the ignition sequencer.” I held out my hand to rodian and waited as he stumbled toward me. After what seemed like an eternity, the inebriated rodian finally made his way to me and dropped the sequencer in my hand.

“Here ya go, buddy!” He said turning and stumbling out of the alley, completely missing the zabrak slumped on the ground, muttering “Another swoop bike lost! My wife is going to k-kill me!”

I shook my head and used the sequencer, just to make sure the bike would start, and felt a wave of relief wash over me as the engine roared to life. I got off the bike, and pumped another stun shot into my target. I hefted him onto the back seat of the bike, secured him down, and took off.

Soon I was pulling up to the Public Safety office, unloading my “cargo”, and dragging him into the building. Once inside, I dragged my quarry to the front desk and let him drop to the floor, the loud thud jolting the human officer who was seated behind the desk out of a nap. He rubbed his eyes and then looked up at me.

“Err…what can I do for you?” he asked.

I pointed to the floor. “Got a bounty I want to cash in.”

The officer leaned over the desk to where I was pointing, his eyes going wide with surprise when he saw whom I brought in. “Oh, Jeevus Gor! You finally got him!”

At first, I thought “Jeevus Gor” was some local exclamation. Then it dawned on me that I never actually looked at the name on the wanted sheet. I looked down at Jeevus, then back to the officer, and nodded. “Yep, I actually just sort of bumped into him.”

The officer chuckled. “Well, it doesn’t matter how you bring them in, so long as you get them in, right?” He reached over and hit a button on the desk, sounding a buzzer. A transparasteel door opened and two more officers, another human, and a twi’lek entered the room and hefted Jeevus off the floor, dragging him back to a cell. The officer behind the desk took out a stack of credit chits and handed them to me. “Well, here ya go! Now maybe you can get off this rock!”

I took the chits and nodded, slightly confused by what the officer had said. I had just arrived on the planet a few hours earlier and hadn’t thought my presence was that well-known. Nor did I believe my name to be so infamous as to be known on a backwater planet like Kerlit. Whatever, I thought to myself as I quickly turned around and walked out of the building.

I hopped back on the swoop bike and headed back to the cantina where I started out. I was surprised, when I walked in, to see the devaronian bartender still in the exact spot where I told him to stay. He shrieked and dove under the bar, which drew a round of laughter from the patrons. I walked up to the bar and reached over it. I grabbed a hold of one of the bartender’s horns and hauled him up. With one quick motion, I slammed his face down on the bar, breaking his nose. The bartender’s hands flew up to his face as his head rebounded. I reached out and grabbed a fistful of his tunic and pulled the bartender to me, so his face was inches from my helmet.

“Listen here shag!” I scolded, “I don’t take too kindly to people causing trouble for me, especially when I’m not out looking for it.” I shoved him back causing him to bump into the bottles of liquor behind him, knocking a few over. “But since your actions didn’t result in me getting killed AND I got paid for a bounty, I’m going to cut you a break.” The bartender sighed with relief. But jumped again as I jabbed a finger at him. “You just became my informant on this planet. If I come here looking for a bounty, you BETTER have good information on it, or else I’m going to start chopping bits off you, starting with your horns, understand?”

“Y-y-y-yes s-s-sir!” He stammered. “My h-hor…” he stopped short as his eyes went wide as the realization of what I had just said came over him. I guess the thought of having the thing that defined his “manliness” cut off was too much for him because his eyes then rolled up into his head and he passed out behind the bar.

I turned around and received a round of applause from the cantina patrons. I smiled behind my helmet and took a deep bow. “Thank you. Thank you! You are too kind. Remember the 7:30 show is completely different from the 5:30 show. Enjoy the nerf!” With that, I left the cantina.

Once outside I checked my chrono and realized that the day had progressed from early afternoon into the early evening, so I decided to spend the night on-planet. I brought up the city directory in my HUD and found a hotel next to the spaceport. I climbed on my newly acquired swoop bike and headed off.

Once at the hotel I checked in and made a quick sweep of the 3 story room I was given. As far as hotel rooms go, I had been in far worse. The room itself was a standard tourist trap-style room. Upon entering the room, I found a table off to my left. To the right was a tiny food prep station and the fresher was next to that. Ahead of me, the room opened to the common area/bedroom; complete with a queen-sized bed and holonet transceiver glued to its stand, lest some unsavory guest attempted to make off with it. I walked over to the far side of the room and pulled open the curtains and gazed at the quaint vista of the spaceport town I found myself in.

Content with my lodgings, I headed back to my ship, gathered a change of clothes and some surveillance gear, brought them back to my room, set up some motion sensors in the hallway and a small holo-cam above the door, linked them to an alarm in my helmet, and headed back out to grab a bite to eat. I went back to the cantina again and was pleasantly surprised to see that my meal was on the house. And it turned out to be a pretty good meal, roasted nerf with local vegetables and a nice tall mug of ale. I took my time and savored a nice hot meal that I didn’t have to prepare. I was going to take my time and enjoy this.

After I finished eating, I decided to head back to my hotel room to get some much-needed rest before heading out the next day. I paused for a moment before entering the room after I had unlocked it with the keycard I was given. For some reason, I felt a jolt of adrenaline and my gut was telling me to be on my guard. I cautiously entered the room with my blaster drawn. I peered into the room and found it exactly how I had left it: dark and empty.

I sighed and re-holstered my gun. I reached up with both hands, released the seals on my helmet, lifted it off, and placed it on the table to my left. I closed the door without turning around and hit a switch on the wall that activated the glow panels in the room and bathed it in a soft yellow light. I took two steps forward when I heard the tell-tale sound of a blaster clearing its holster. My heart began to pump with adrenaline again. Stupid dikut! I cursed myself for not listening to my instincts before I entered the room. I slowly turned to get a look at my assailant, assuming it to be a friend of Jeevus here to get back at me for turning his friend into the authorities.

As I completed my turn with my hands raised, I found myself staring at the business end of a slender blaster pistol. It was the kind of small pistol that small-time criminals usually carried as they were cheap to buy and usually got the job done. I looked beyond the pistol and was immediately taken aback. The person holding me up wore green armor and a helmet with a distinctive T-visor. A fellow mando’ad I thought to myself, this should be interesting.

“You took my bounty.” The intruder said. “Give me the money and I’ll let you live.”