Blaster & Blade 2: Worlds Collide

Chapter 3

Mal’dar and Misc.

   
Mal’dar looked at the assembled bounty hunters and specialist in front of him. They were divided into six groups: muscle, shooters, slicers, mechanics, pilots, and medic. They all stood in the shadow of Abam, Mal’dar’s ship.
   
The largest group by far was the shooters, there were over thirty of them staring at Mal’dar. Might as well thin them out first, thought Mal’dar. “All shooters hold up your blasters,” said Mal’dar.
   
Rifles and pistols were held up in the air, Mal’dar examined them. Then he began pointing, “You, you, you, you, you, you, you, you, and you,” he said. The shooters all looked at him anxiously. “You can stay, the rest of you clean your damn blasters”.
   
Those he hadn’t pointed at all grumbled and marched off.
   
Mal’dar walked over to muscle group and pointed at the massive herglic who stood over everyone, “You leave”.
   
“Why?” asked the herglic.
   
“Herglics love gambling and I’m not dealing with that,” said Mal’dar.
   
The herglic muttered and walked away the ground shaking slightly.
   
“Hold up your weapons,” said Mal’dar to muscle group.
   
They held up their weapons and Mal’dar selected those with well cared for weapons and dismissed the rest. He walked over to the mechanics. In one sense there were only a few, though if you counted each Jawa then it was now the largest group. Mal’dar gestured towards the Jawas, “You all one group?”
   
The Jawas nodded and spoke rapidly in Jawa.
   
Mal’dar waved what they were saying aside, “I don’t trust you guys, get!”
   
“Zucchini!” exclaimed one of the Jawas.

Mal’dar rolled his eyes from under his helmet, “Get!”

The Jawas cursed him as they walked away.

Mal’dar stepped down the line to the slicers, nothing seemed off about any of them and Mal’dar went to last group, the pilots. Mal’dar looked at them and his heart skipped a beat, one of them was a female Thileen with dark pink skin and horns that had at least an inch on those that had belonged to Rimi. The thileen smiled at Mal’dar, “Deciding to pick the best pilot here?”

“Get out of here,” growled Mal’dar

The thileen flinched as if struck, “Excuse me?”

“Get…out…of…here,” growled Mal’dar.

The thileen scoffed at him, “Fine,” and she stormed away.

Mal’dar shook himself and began walking down the line again, “The rest of you are going to be tested, and if you aren’t the best you leave”.

“What kind of tests?” asked a feeorin in the muscle group.

“Any kind I think of if you want on my crew, you don’t like it leave,” said Mal’dar.

A few of them did but the vast majority stayed put. Mal’dar nodded to those who stayed, “Good, muscle group you will do a tournament combat to the final three, each fight will continue until a yield or third blood”.

He looked at the shooters, “Shooters head to that target range,” and Mal’dar pointed to a target range.

“Pilots you’ll take turns on my speeder and then you will fly Abam, under my watch,” said Mal’dar. 

“Mechanics sort into two teams, the first you have ten minutes to make it so that my speeder can’t work, the second group you get the speeder to work”. Mal’dar looked at the mechanics, “And if none of you can fix it I’ll blast you all and pay someone to fix it”.

“Medics you fix up the muscle group”.

He looked at the final group, the slicers. “You guys find out as much as you can about everyone here,” Mal’dar kept his gaze on them, “Don’t go digging on me because you won’t find anything and if you do I blast you”. Mal’dar looked down the line, “Any questions?”

They all shook their head and Mal’dar looked down the line, “Begin”.

Mal’dar bounced Khura on his knee as he watched each of the groups go about their task, except for the pilots who watched bitterly as the first mechanic group took the speeder apart. “Wait till they find out what their final challenge is”.

    The first mechanic group was made up of four individuals, a massive whiphid who towered over all the other mechanics. Two squib brothers who came up just short of the whiphid’s knees. Final was a Slussi who was sobbing quietly.

    One of the squibs looked up at her, it’s blue, fox-like, face grinning, “Hey! Why you cryin’?”

    “We’re going to break it, I wanted to fix it not break it,” cried the Slussi.

    The squib who had spoken elbowed the whipid’s calf and gestured towards the Slussi, “Get a load of her, but eh’ you can break this baby right half right big fella’”.

    The whiphid roared at the squib who jumped back and raised his hands, “Eh buddy if your gonna yell at me at least do it in a language I speak ok”.

    The squib’s brother looked him, “Heeee, hheee he can’t,” stammered the squib.

    The first squib slapped his brother’s arm, “Eh, Sly, if can’t talk normal then don’t talk. We discussed this”.

    The squib with the stutter bowed his head, “Yeeee, yes Etch”.

    Etch looked at the slussi and the whiphid both of whom were sobbing in front of the speeder, unwilling to harm a single part. “Can you believe these two sissies, c’mon let’s wreck this puppy”.
   

    The slicers all quickly typed into their datapads searching up as much information as possible on their fellow competitors. “Do think this is really ok?” asked one, a human.

    “I do not mind,” said a droid as his fingers flew along the datapad.

    “Maybe we should slice you to do it for us,” said a Mon Calamari.

    “You wouldn’t dare,” said the droid.

    “We shouldn’t,” said a Duros.

    “Will you guys just shut up or do it,” growled a defel who had unfolded a computer that had been attached to his back in a custom case. The computer was on folded open and was held by arms from the case. The defel’s eyes were covered by a visor as he rapidly typed on his computer.

    “I say we do it,” said the Mon Calamari.

    “I’m in,” said a second human.

    The droid looked at the other slicers, “I am growing very uncomfortable”.

    The muscle group was sitting around small fires as they prepared to begin, each fire had several contestants around it.

    “First fight I’ve been in with medics waiting,” scoffed a human.

    “Doesssn’t matter I’ll kill you sssssuckersss anyway,” hissed a Transdosian.

    The feeorin whose body was covered in rippling muscle scoffed, “Your tiny young one”.

    A wookie glared at the trandosian and growled.

    The transdosian licked his lips, “Looks like I’ll have dinner too, sssso nice”.

    “How old are you?” asked the human looking at the feeorin.

    “294,” said the feeorin rolling his neck which was made up of rippling muscle.

    “Ssssuch a sssshame that sssssuch a long life ssssshall end,” hissed the transdosian.

    “Anyone know what that is?” asked the human pointing a massive contestant who sat away from the fires sharpening a massive ax.

    “It’ssss a Mantellian Savrip,” hissed the transdosian, “I usssed to hunt them. Good sssport, their sssmart for animalssss”.

    The human shook his head, “What kinda freak show are we in?”

    The Wookie roared in agreement.