Chapter Text
Jerrin stirs in his bed, legs brushing against each other. The cold whirring of hyperspace has long made itself home in the chamber of his ship as a muted white noise. It’s late, he thinks in sleep addled mind. Or rather too early. Regardless, he would much rather go back to sleep than get up and face the blearing expanse of streaked stars from his viewport.
It’s still quiet in his ship and it seems to be in the Marauder’s also. Save for the occasional ship rattle, that is. It only takes a few minutes until he’s drifting back into lovely, sweet unconsciousness—the quilted blanket Clan Leader gave him pulled tight and supplying the warmth that space so lacks.
Rather unlucky for him, his data pad lets out an all too loud ping just as he was skirting that edge of bliss. He jolts suddenly and groans, shoving his face into his pillow. He should really change the settings for no notifications during sleeping hours. He drifts back to sleep again. And the data pad pings again.
Jerrin furrows his brows, huffing. He takes a moment, turning on his back to stare up at the ceiling with a frown. The soft glow from the dim, purple lights lining the base of the private quarters barely manage to light up his ceiling. If he squints, the faintest reflection of purple can be seen on the black metal. He doesn’t remember leaving the lights on. Jerrin is rather fond of falling asleep in darkness, despite the unnerve he still gets whenever his feet dangle over his bed. He must’ve been tired enough to have forgotten to turn them off. Hopefully they didn’t drain too much energy. Jerrin gets up out of bed, goosebumps forming on his bare right leg and arms through the long sleeves of his night shirt. He shivers and pads over to the offending data pad that lays on a shelf by his door.
He taps the screen on and squints at the bright light and enters his password, swiping to his messages.
Val.
What is Val doing messaging Jerrin at this hour? Shouldn’t she…well, Jerrin figures for a moment, it may just be the middle of the day or whatever where Val is at. It’s not like she actively keeps up with the time wherever Jerrin may be. Jerrin taps on her message and opens it up.
Val: Jerrin, love, do I have a proposition for you! It’s going to get you back in the game.
Val: Come on!
Jerrin sighs and types his message out as he leans against a wall.
Jerrin: Alright? What’s this “proposition”? Better be good enough to get me out of bed.
Val: Oh. Oh, dear. Oh, I am so sorry. I thought you were still on Coruscant.
Val: Anyways
Val: So I’ve a bounty for you. One you’re going to love. It’s been awhile right? The war is over now, and you can get back to hunting.
Jerrin: Since when were you a bondsman?
Val: It’s a recent decision.
Jerrin: Alright…hit me with it?
Val: Good.
Val: There’s this Twi'lek. Hydo Arsol. Highly wanted by the client because he killed her son and husband in rather…extreme ways. The murders occurred last week in the quiet sector of Corellia’s capital, on the outskirts nearing the villas. The client feels its premeditated, given the state she found her family in one afternoon. But it’s not like you’re here to investigate and figure out why he did it.
Val: He’s a convicted criminal, tried and found guilty for arson, theft, murder, drug trafficking, possessing illegal arms, blah blah blah. The works, you get it. The client says she can offer 40,000 credits and five to ten thousand more if the job is finished quickly enough to her liking.
Val: I’ll give you more details in person if you’re interested enough. There is one detail I will give you though. Arsol wears, or rather uses, Mandalorian armor. And from what I’ve looked at and found, he’s not Mandalorian.
Jerrin stares at the screen, fidgeting with the edges of his data pad and draws his bottom lip between his teeth. It sounds like a simple enough job to get him back into the swing of the business, he’s dealt with plenty of bounties who had been murderers beforehand. This really shouldn’t be any different. He figures he might have to be a little more careful given the vagueness of the “extreme ways” in which the husband and son where killed. Whatever that means. It’s likely nothing to worry about. He’ll find out about that and more of Arsol later if he takes the job, so he puts that concern aside for now.
He rereads the last two sentences, turning them over and over in his head. Using beskar’gam while not being Mandalorian? It’s makes Jerrin draw his lip up in disgust. It's is worth more than Arsol probably will ever know or ever care to know. History, life, joy, and war live in it. It’s more than just a piece to protect the wearer. It’s the utmost honor to wear the same armor that your clan members wore generations ago. Their tome’tayl lives on as long as it is kept and passed down. It’s to be treated with respect and reverence. Taken care of. The fact that Arsol is out there running around wearing it leaves Jerrin feeling sick. It’s obscene even. It likely still belongs to a clan out there somewhere if he stole it.
He types out his response.
Jerrin: What’s the preferred status of the quarry at return?
Val: Dead or alive. Preferably alive, but dead will do just fine the client says.
Jerrin: And..
He looks up from the data pad and glances out his door, towards where the Marauder would be docked to his ship. He taps his left foot; the soft metallic sound disturbs the relative silence of his ship.
Jerrin: What of the others? They’re not a part of the guild.
Val: You can do this alone. Though if you want them, we can make arrangements for that. Or you can just list them as outside help in the event the bounty makes more trouble than he should. We should be able to slide that by for an instance.
Jerrin: Alright, fine. I’ll talk it over with the others when they get up. Is there anyone else who knows about this?
Val: Nah, you’re the first to know (:
Val: Meet me as soon as you can, yeah? You where I’m at. It’s been so long, and I miss your lovely face. And that grumpy one. We can go over the final details and acceptance in person.
Jerrin: You act as if I haven’t seen you in years. It’s only been a few months, Val.
Jerrin: But I’ll let you know when we head that way. We were going to stop somewhere for a few days, but now that you brought this up…
Val: Okay, but hurry. I can’t keep this up in the air for long.
Jerrin: I know. Bye bye, Val.
Val: Bye bye.
Jerrin sets the data pad back on the shelf and then flops back into bed. There’s still a few hours before the boys should wake up and Jerrin will be damned if he doesn’t manage to get more shut eye, even if he knows it will end up making him more tired when he wakes up next. He throws the quilt back over his body, all the way up to his chin and curls in on himself. A hand holds the charms on his necklace.
When he manages to finally fall asleep, his dreams are many. Series of images and actions play through his head too fast for him to try to focus in on one. It's not entirely restful to his dismay. When he does manage to finally home in on one, courtesy of his unconscious brain being picky about what it wants, he's at home. It’s winter and he’s a child taking care of goats in the barn and listening to the stories of his rock in the forest again.
-
Jerrin slowly wakes up to a soft knock. He stirs in bed for a moment before pulling the covers up around his head and turns away from the sound. He barely hears the sigh from the doorway as he quickly drifts back to sleep.
“Come on. You’ve slept enough.” A low voice says, closer to him now, likely standing by the bed.
Jerrin makes a weak noise in rebuttal. He tries to burrow himself further into the bed but there’s only so much he can do to hide.
“Come on,” a hand is on Jerrin’s shoulder and he tenses, body going still and locking. “Sorry,” the hand removes itself, “Sorry, I—”
“It’s fine,” Jerrin talks through a yawn and relaxes slowly, “Just a reflex.” A moment and then, “I’m still tired.”
“I know, you probably woke up and went back to sleep like you know you shouldn’t. Usually you’re up by now. We'll be out of hyperspace in a little less than two hours so, try to get up.”
Jerrin turns around in bed. He cracks open his eyes with a strenuous effort and looks up at the figure at the side of his bed. Wavy dark brown hair frames the half-tattooed face and the soft purple glow from the floor barely illuminates the dark eyes and raised eyebrow. A light from outside Jerrin’s room, likely the small lamp he keeps by his little reading nook in the cabin, backlights Hunter, shining gold at the very edges of his hair. Jerrin closes his eyes again and sighs.
“What time is it?” He asks.
“10:37.”
“Give me a few minutes.”
“If I give you a few minutes, you'll fall right back asleep.” Jerrin hears Hunter shift in front of him. He’s likely crossing his arms.
“And is that so bad?” Jerrin asks.
“Not necessarily, no,” Jerrin figures Hunter is talking through a tiny smile. “I would let you under other circumstances, but like I said, we'll be dropping out of hyperspace soon and you'll be needed.”
“Fine,” Jerrin sighs and opens his eyes once again.
“Great, I’ll go make some caf for you in the Marauder.” Hunter turns and leaves the room.
Jerrin sits up with a groan and rolls his neck. A few cracks loosen it up. He swings his legs over the side of the bed and toes his slippers on. They’re fuzzy and look like little brown tooka cats, courtesy of one Coruscanti department store and Wrecker, thank you very much. Wrecker had seen them and presented them to Jerrin with much nervousness while Jerrin was taking them out to buy some actual clothes. Luckily Jerrin had taken a liking to them right away which made Wrecker feel all the better. Tookas are rather lovely rascals after all. Jerrin throws on a cardigan and a pair of loose pants as he leaves his room and goes to the refresher to brush the knots out of his thick hair and splash water on his face. The tasks only take a few minutes before he’s out, heading towards the airlock on the deck below to pass through to the Marauder.
He passes by his small workstation, mostly comprised of little desk that pulls out from the wall, a chair, a mess of fabrics, needles, paint, brushes, and a half-painted canvas of whatever. It’s abstract. It tends to be the only thing Jerrin feels himself doing these days. A mess of different paints spread with a palette knife is cathartic and, if you play it right, it can turn out to be really beautiful.
He also passes by the small altar on a shelf for the Great Mother. A cloth dark red cloth is draped over the shelf and a carved wooden statuette stands at its center surrounded by a small offering of water and bread. Jerrin turns, tapping the top of his head then chest with his right hand and extends it out towards the statuette before taking the offerings up and placing them elsewhere. After, he makes to the ladder on the opposite wall. He climbs down it and walks through a door to the Marauder.
“Aww, look who’s up!” Wrecker shouts as he passes by with the gonk droid, bright, warm smile on his face. He waves with his free hand.
Jerrin shakes his head and heads up to the galley. Tech, Hunter, and Echo are there having what seems to be a late breakfast of…whatever ration packs they decided to open. Jerrin draws up the corner of his lip. They’re quick and easy meals but they do leave much to be desired. There’s only two meals that he can say he enjoys and they’re all out, since Wrecker and Crosshair enjoy those too. They’ll need a supply run soon.
“Please tell me there's something else for me to eat than those,” Jerrin points at them sitting at the table from where he’s leaning against the doorway.
“There should be a meiloorun for you over on the counter,” Echo says between bites. “And welcome to the land of the living, Jerrin.”
Jerrin makes a face at Echo and walks to retrieve the meiloorun and cut it up. “You’re acting like I slept until 14:00 or something.”
“It is pretty late.”
“It really isn’t.”
“Your caf is over here on the table,” Hunter says, voice slightly muffled by the food he’s chewing. “Made it just like you liked.”
“Ori’vor’e,” Jerrin shuffles in next to Tech with his bowl and reaches across the table for the mug. He takes a sip and smiles. “You really get it down don’t ya?” He takes another drink before setting the mug down and moving to the meiloorun.
“I try my best.”
Jerrin nods and looks at Tech who’s completely engrossed in something on his data pad.
“Anything interesting you reading there, Techy?” Jerrin nudges him with his elbow. Tech’s goggles are pushed up on his forehead, data pad close to his face in one hand and the other holds a spoon in the ration pack. There’s a slight furrow between his eyebrows.
“Just…” He begins, then doesn’t finish.
“Yeah?”
“Sorry,” Tech looks up at Jerrin, “I’m just trying to memorize some of these fungi on the planet we’re going to. There’s a lot of varieties that look similar and you know, it’s a big difference whether one will kill you or not."
“Like this mushroom,” he turns the data pad so Jerrin can see, “It’s colloquially called a ‘blue mourner’ because of the vibrant blue ooze dripping out of it. It’s safe despite how it looks. This other one called ‘ringo creeper’ will kill you within a few minutes. See, they both have that blue ooze, both are about the same size and body is about the same color. The difference is, on the ringo creeper, there’s tiny little rings near its base and there’s usually a few others growing from its stem. Though if you catch it early on enough, it’ll look just like the blue mourner.”
“Well…in that case, how do you know you’re going to eat one or the other if the creeper looks like the mourner early on?”
“I’d wager you’d gamble. Though it seems the people on the planet farm the blue mourners so they know it’s safe.”
“Good idea. Why are you looking so intently at these mushrooms? You planning on taking us on a little trip, Tech?” Jerrin asks, quirking the corner of his lip. Echo lefts out a huff of air and shakes his head.
“What?” Tech furrows his brows.
“You know, getting together to have a nice little bonding experience in the wilderness, potentially getting to see something so mind boggling or just all around chilling out with the pals. Music can be included or not.”
“I--,” Tech gives Jerrin a look, “No, that wasn’t my intention. I actually wanted to forage if we had time, but I suppose we could do that if you want instead.”
“No,” Hunter immediately says before Jerrin can reply.
“Killjoy.” Jerrin grumbles.
“Maybe another time,” Tech leans in and whispers in Jerrin’s ear. Jerrin pats his knee in acknowledgement.
The group finishes up their meals in relative silence, Tech flicking through another tab on the data pad to look up fish found in the reefs near where they’ll be staying and Jerrin looking over his shoulder to read. Jerrin ends up taking the rest of Echo’s caf and downing it in one go, earning concerned looks from both Echo and Hunter but they say nothing. Hunter gets up and gathers their trash to throw it in the small incinerator. Jerrin grabs up his bowl and their spoons and places them in the sink.
“Um,” Jerrin clears his throat after he gave the dishes a quick wash, “I have something to discuss. With everyone. If we could all meet in the common area, I’ll run it by you guys and see if you’re okay with it.” He puts his hands in the pockets of his cardigan and tilts his head towards the door, “I’ll go get Wrecker and Crosshair.” He turns around and heads out the door, barely missing the questioning looks from the other three.
Jerrin walks down the length of the Marauder, chewing his lip. If they don’t like the prospect of bounty hunting, well, he can just go by himself real quick. Hopefully the job wouldn’t take that long. A week at most. Even though it’s been a few years since his last hunt, he has full confidence that he’d be able to successfully complete it without little trouble. Learning a few things from the war and the jetiise had helped expand his skillset; he could now easily do things he barely could’ve beforehand and was able to combine a few practices and styles he’d seen few jetiise do. As much as the jetiise loved their ideals, something Jerrin first resented them for but now rather respected, it still held them back as a group in certain areas. Adaption, he felt, would be important for them now, considering how they came so close to destruction in the war. It was this adaption and syncretizing systems that Jerrin used to save himself and others countless times during the war. Something he felt confident in to make him a more than formidable enough hunter. Maybe he’ll be renown in time if he decides to fully go back to bounty hunting or spacing.
Jerrin lets his lip go and considers something else. This job should be familiar enough to the boys. They probably had multitudes of similar missions or at least something adjacent to bounty hunting. From what he knows, they often existed outside of the framework and machinations that the greater GAR followed. It wouldn’t be too hard for them to adapt to this.
Jerrin stops short and shakes his head, laughing quietly. Of course, they’d be comfortable with a job like this. Hell, Jerrin had done similar clean up missions with them immediately after the war. For force sakes, they went out to oppressive Separatist outposts to retrieve figure heads that still lashed out and tried to maintain power in their pocket of space. The only thing Jerrin didn’t enjoy about those jobs was one) there weren’t a lot of credits earned to his liking, two) there was always some report he’d have to write up after, and three) there were at least a few protocols he had to follow, even if the rest of the Bad Batch didn’t adhere to them much. They were limited at times with what they could do and had to follow orders given by the higher ups. Bounty hunting at least could give them the full leg room they needed as a team. More credits too. Though they would have to get within the guild soon if they wanted to continue after this. Jerrin and Val could probably make it slide this time around. Hopefully.
Jerrin continues walking back to the suite that holds their bunks and brings his hair to rest on one of his shoulders, tucking in a few loose strands behind his ear. He knocks on the wall by the open doorway before peering in. Crosshair is on his bunk on the far wall absentmindedly cleaning his rifle while reading something on his data pad that is propped up against his pillow. His short hair has a few grey tufts sticking up, making him look a smidgen more youthful. The stress lines don’t help much in way of making him look the age he should with the combination of his hair color. Jerrin tried to get him on a skincare routine like he did with the others, but he always turned up his nose at it, and even so when they did it as a little group activity. Though if Jerrin looks a little closer, there does seem to be a bit of improvement in a few key areas. Crosshair keeps at his work with his rifle and scrolling up on the data pad.
“Well, are you going to keep gawking or are you going to tell me what you want?” Crosshair’s dark eyes slide over to Jerrin who had put his hand up to knock again.
Jerrin drops his hand and steps in, walking over to Crosshair and looks up at him, “Well, you didn’t exactly acknowledge me now, did you?”
Crosshair rolls his eyes and sets his rifle down. He looks at Jerrin, expectant.
“We’re going to have a little group meeting so if you would, you know, get thine ass over yonder, I’d be real thankful.” Jerrin points his thumb over his shoulder.
“Did Hunter call for this?”
“No, actually. I did.”
“Oh? Well, then this must be a special occasion.” Crosshair says sarcastically. “I wouldn’t dream of missing it.” He hops down from his bunk and sets the piece of his rifle gently on his bunk.
“Shut up and just go,” Jerrin says without any bite and gives Crosshair a tired look.
“Going.” Crosshair walks out of the room. A moment later he shouts, “Hey, Wrecker! Get up here, Jerrin here apparently has something important to discuss.”
“Coming!”
Jerrin walks out of the room, fiddling with a loose strand of thread in his pocket. Wrecker sidles up to him and peers down at him.
“So, what’s this about?”
“You’ll find out in a minute, Wrecker.” Jerrin raises his eyebrow. Wrecker nods.
They come into the tiny common area on the Marauder. Jerrin doesn’t know why they love the small space so much when his ship offers a bit more room for the six of them to sit down and chat. Routine comfort, he supposes. Wrecker and Crosshair take their places on different crates on either side of a small, worn couch which Echo and Tech are already sitting on. Hunter is perched on its armrest. Jerrin takes his place in front of them and leans his body against a console, careful to not press any buttons, crossing his arms. He waits for Wrecker to get settled. Hunter sends Jerrin a questioning look. Crosshair pops a toothpick in his mouth.
“Alright. So,” Jerrin starts, “I have a proposition. Or rather Val has a proposition. It was offered to me earlier this morning, but I figured I could extend the offer to the rest of you.” Jerrin takes a breath. “Val has apparently taken up a bondsman position, amongst her various activities, and has let me know that there’s a recent bounty out there that could get me back into the swing of things. The thing is, she can’t keep the offer up in the air for me for long to make a decision before the client gets antsy and demands someone take the job or moves to work with another bondsman. I have about a standard day at best, two if the client is fine with waiting for an answer.”
“So that will cut into—” Tech begins.
“It’ll cut into the time we had planned out on Serenna, yes.” Jerrin juts in. Then he notices the look on Tech’s face, “Sorry,” he palms his face, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to cut you off there.”
“It’s fine.”
Jerrin feels his stomach unsettle briefly, but he removes his hand from his face and continues, “You don’t have to come with me. You can stay on Serenna for the time we planned and then some or we can meet somewhere when I’m finished with the hunt.”
“You think you’ll manage fine without us?” Hunter asks.
“Yeah? Sarge, you know hunting was my primary job before the war. I’m more than capable of taking care of a quarry and being back quickly.”
“Sure, but you’re with us now. And you know we do things as a group.”
Jerrin huffs, “Look, I don’t mind that. But I’d hate to cut into the little break we planned a while ago. This is sudden. I’d rather go get the job done quickly while you guys have a little down time. You deserve it.”
“Yeah? Well, tell us a little bit more about this job and we’ll make our decision, right?” Hunter tilts his head. The others nod.
“Ganging up on me, huh? Alright,” Jerrin shifts away from the console, “Val didn’t relay much over the ‘net, but the quarry is a Twi'lek named Hydo Arsol. He’s wanted for the murder of the client’s husband and son. Apparently he’s a criminal with a lovely background. The payment will be 40,000 credits upon his return, dead or alive, and—here’s a nice little catch—there’s extra earnings from five to ten thousand extra credits if the quarry is delivered in a timely fashion. Val really didn’t say how quick the client meant, but I’m sure the details will be gone over more thoroughly in person.” Jerrin shrugs. Hopefully its enough for them to make a decision on.
They share a few looks, nods, eyebrow raisings, gestures with each other. How they flawlessly make decisions without any vocals at times, Jerrin doesn’t know. He’s been trying to get the hang of it. Turns out Echo and Wrecker are pretty much the only ones Jerrin can do non-verbal communication with the highest success rate and even then, some things get lost. Talking with Echo fares a little better, given their history.
The group turns back and looks at Jerrin. A mischievous glint is in a few of their eyes. Echo and Wrecker are smiling. Tech is typing away on his pad.
“We’ll do it,” Hunter says, tilting his head.
“Are you sure?” Jerrin looks at all of them, one by one. “There’s not much to go off of really. You really don’t have to.”
“It’s fine, Jerrin. Sheesh. We’d probably get all fidgety after two days on Serenna anyways,” Echo rolls his eyes and then gives Jerrin a knowing smile. “You would too.”
“And it’s not like we’ve never been given missions with little details before,” Tech says, leaning forward with a finger in the air.
“There’s something else though, isn’t there?” Crosshair eyes Jerrin.
“It’s just a minor detail. One to give me incentive to take the job,” Jerrin waves a hand.
“And that is?”
Jerrin sighs. “Val told me Arsol uses Mandalorian armor and from what she found; nothing connects him to other Mandalorians. He likely stole it.”
Hunter’s eyebrows raise in concern, but before he opens his mouth to say something the ship beeps a few times to warn of the drop out of hyperspace.
“I’ll go get that,” Tech stands and starts walking with Wrecker to the cockpit, “Jerrin.” He nods at him. Jerrin nods back and heads to the cockpit of his own ship.
The drop out of hyperspace is smooth, barely rattling the ships that are docked together. A welcome surprise. Jerrin calls over on his headset and begins his undocking his from the Marauder.
Trying to land on Serenna while both ships are docked together isn’t a great idea, given how much bigger Jerrin’s ship is to the Marauder. The added bonus of how Tech likes to land as if the hounds of hell are lapping at his ankles makes Jerrin shiver and gives him more than enough reason to land his own ship by himself, a safe distance away. Jerrin flips switches and presses buttons in sequence and double checks that the air lock is shut. A small jolt followed by no insistent beeping lets him know that the undocking was successful.
Looking out of the transparisteel, Jerrin takes in view of Serenna as he guides his ship closer. It’s a beautiful, lush emerald and turquoise, shining in the light of its sun like a jewel. A few clouds pepper across the surface of the planet. The landmasses generally consist of volcanic islands of varying sizes. There is one large continent that wraps itself around the planet called Konma. Tech had said that most of the continent has barely been touched by any form of industrialization. Most towns and settlements seem to only pop up along the coastline or on the islands. The dense forests of Konma are considered sacred to the Serennians and while they can be visited, it’s under careful watch and kept untouched.
Looking at the plant, Jerrin feels his chest twist. He would’ve enjoyed watching the migration of the frellas in a few days off the coast of Caly, one of the major islands on the planet that they’re visiting. Would have loved giving the others more time to enjoy themselves. But something always pops up whenever Jerrin makes plans for things such as this. He sighs. Maybe another time. They could still try to do some things while on the planet. They had the rest of the day and while it wasn’t much to work with, they would find a way to make it work and enjoy their limited time.
When they’ve finally made it to their private landing pad on Caly, Jerrin letting Tech land first not out of politeness but caution, he gets up and changes into a pair of black shorts, a thin, pale blue long sleeved shirt, and sandals. Jerrin grabs his data pad from shelf after dressing and types out a message to Val.
Jerrin: We’re in. See you in about one standard day.