//------------------------------// // First Blood // Story: Scum and Villainy // by The Mountaineer Brony //------------------------------// Tempest spent about a year doing odd jobs around Mandalore- mostly repairing ships and providing her services as a bodyguard -to save up enough money to acquire a vessel of her own. Sheryl, whom she now considered a close friend, was kind enough to help her with the first payment; a refurbished TZ-15 shuttle wasn't the most extraordinary craft on the market, but to Tempest, it was more than good enough. With what she had left over, she bought an astromech droid: R3-T6, or as Tempest affectionately nicknamed him, "Blinky." Together, the unicorn and her droid repaired and modified the shuttle, upgrading its weapons and engines, as well as giving it a paintjob and a new name. Tempest christened her craft the Broken Horn. It wasn't long after that that she was able to venture offworld and join the Bounty Hunter's Guild, a time-honored profession common among many Mandalorians, and was soon assigned with her first mark, hopefully the first of many that would bring wealth to her and her clan. Tag Burqari. 31 year-old Weequay male from Sriluur. Wanted for murder in two systems and first degree robbery in four. Tempest's first bounty certainly wasn't on the level of intergalactic notoriety, but she was eager to bring him to justice anyway. This was one of many bounties that had been posted by the Galactic Empire itself, so she knew they could be trusted to compensate her well. After some research on her target in the Imperial criminal registry, she found herself on a course to Celanon, following up a lead. Tempest's freighter dropped out of hyperspace with a jolt. "Let's put the ship down on these coordinates, Blinky." said the novel huntress as the green orb grew larger in front of her. She reached out one hoof to tap on the touchscreen in the console before returning it to the steering wheel, both of which had been modified to work with her unique forelimbs. "We'll see if our tip-off was correct." The R3 unit in the rear of the cockpit beeped an affirmative, accessing a control panel to help steady the ship while it entered the planet's atmosphere. Tempest was glad she had the droid around; though she considered herself a good enough pilot, any of the multitudinous tasks that the droid could handle to keep the ship running was one less Tempest had to worry about. If only she had a horn to focus her magic, she thought, then she might be a little more independent. The Broken Horn touched down on a small landing pad outside of a bustling little village. It was evening, and the street lights were starting to flick on. Dark clouds in the sky suggested rain was on the way. A faint breeze rustled the leaves of the sparse vegetation. Aliens of various species went about their daily business as Tempest made her way down the street, leaving Blinky to tend to the ship. Though she did attract some curious glances, as she was likely the first pony any of the villagers had ever seen, her shining Mandalorian armor and her trajectory towards the tavern kept them from lingering too long. They knew she must have been on the hunt. Tempest approached the doors of an unassuming building marked as a tavern. According to the tip she'd gotten from some other lowlife who allegedly had it out for the Weequay, he liked to frequent this establishment with his ill-gotten gains. Judging from the overall appearance of the place, Tempest could understand why: a small, dimly-lit dive on a backwater world with little Imperial presence, if any. What better place to spend money you had stolen? The hydraulic doors slid open as the dark unicorn trotted up to them. She attracted a few sidelong glances from some of the patrons sitting closest to the entrance, but otherwise, she wasn't of their concern. To be completely fair, thought Tempest, there were plenty of other species in here just as odd to her as she must seem to them... although, to be even more fair, most of them were drunk out of their minds. Quietly, she went up to the bar, having to rear and put her forehooves upon it to speak to the bartender. "What can I do fer ya?" asked the Abednedo, wiping his hands on a bar rag. "I'm looking for Tag Burqari." said Tempest, her stern voice heard clearly from behind her helmet. Suddenly, the humanoid sitting on the barstool nearest her raised his head and turned. He was wearing a red bandanna with a short braid escaping from underneath. His skin was brown and very wrinkly; he had small horns along his jawline and his yellowed teeth were showing in an ornery smile. Blue eyes gazed out from under a heavy, scarred brow. "You must be lookin' for me, then." he said, his voice heavily accented. Tempest turned to regard him. "I'm Tempest Shadow. I'm here to extradite you on behalf of the Bounty Hunter's Guild, on charges of murder and robbery. If you come peacefully back to my ship, I assure you that you and I will have no further inconvenience." Tag laughed, glancing Tempest up and down. "You're the one sent to come an' take me?" He tilted his head to try and get a better look at this unusual talking equine he had recently become acquainted with. He chuckled to himself upon noticing the jaing head on her flank. "You mus' be one o' them Mandalorians, ain't ya?" He scooted out the empty stool next to him. "'Ave a seat, mando! I'll buy y'a drink." Tempest was silent for a moment before jumping awkwardly atop the too-tall barstool. She figured she had her bounty under control, so she might as well pretend to humor him. With a quick word to the bartender, Tag ordered himself and Tempest a drink; tall glasses of a dark brown liquid slid down the bar to them. While the Weequay tucked into his beverage immediately, Tempest had no intention of touching hers, instead simply watching her bounty from behind her cold, unfeeling helmet. At last, the glass hit the bar once more, now about half empty. Tag sighed and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "You know, mando," he said, looking to her. "I was once like you. An idealist. Believin' in the rule o' right and stoppin' the bad guy. But the day came when I learned somethin'..." He stopped to take another drink. "I learned that the only rule out 'ere in this galaxy is the rule o' the strong. An' if you ain't strong, yer dead." He chuckled slightly, but Tempest just stared him down. "So wot if I did some robbin' an' killin'? That's just how it is in the Outer Rim. Only the strong survive out 'ere." Tag polished off the last of his drink and grinned at Tempest. "You Mandalorians should know all about that. Some o' you are no better, I'm sure." Tempest leaned closer to him. "Don't presume to see things through my eyes." she said grimly. "And don't presume to know the way of Mandalore. Men like you are cowards, and you deserve to be punished." "Oh is 'at so?" Tag replied, mentally sizing up this so-called bounty huntress. He figured he'd taken on stronger foes. "Don't suppose you've ever met a 'coward' like me, then." In one quick motion, coming almost too fast for the unicorn to process, Tag swung his arm forward, smashing the glass into the side of Tempest's head. The beskar helmet wasn't even scratched, but the cranium inside was momentarily dazed by the impact and sound of the shattering glass. Immediately afterwards, Tag made a beeline for the door, other patrons shouting in surprise and alarm. In a few seconds, Tempest had gathered herself, jumping from the barstool which fell to the floor behind her. She broke into a gallop after her quarry; it was always preferable to take a bounty peacefully and alive if at all possible, though it now seemed as though that option had become less likely. Outside, Tempest saw the Weequay running down the street into the village; when she called for him to stop, he whipped around, drawing his DL-18 blaster pistol. Though none could see it, Tempest's eyes widened in surprise. Tag's first shot narrowly missed her shoulder before the pony dove behind a nearby crate. "You won't take me today, mando!" As her opponent's continued shots pounded against her barricade, Tempest steadied her breathing, focusing for the task ahead. Gritting her teeth, she ignited her horn; sparks flew from the cracked and broken stub, just as they had since she was a child, but thanks to her training, Tempest had learned to conjure a faint magical aura. Concentrating on her shoulder holster, she slowly, delicately managed to draw her SE-14C and prepare it to fire. It took a lot of mental fortitude on Tempest's part to wield a blaster, and the pistol could even be seen to quiver slightly in the air as she levitated it. She carefully poked her head above the crate, leveling her blaster at her target. Tag's shots kept hitting the crate or whistling through the air above her, probably due to his inebriation. "Alright," thought Tempest "I'll hit him in the shoulder, maybe that will stagger him and buy me some time." As best as she could through her helmet, Tempest lined up her shot through one of the blaster's twin scopes. Her horn sparked more furiously as she tried to exert her magic against the gun's sturdy trigger. What she didn't expect, though, was a sudden surge of her horn's energy. The gun in wobbled in her grip, engulfed in a bright pinkish aura. The trigger squeezed off a shot. The blaster bolt sped through the air as a red flash of light. Being made of energy, it didn't drop due to gravity-- but the shaking of the gun did alter its course. Instead of boring into his shoulder, the laser struck its target directly in his chest, burning a hole through his skin, ribcage, and heart, and exiting invisibly out of his back, its energy spent. Tag Burqari gasped for breath. He staggered on his feet, dropping his blaster to the ground. His eyes rolled back in his head as he hit his knees, landing facedown on the Celonanian earth. Tempest dropped her own blaster as silent shock overtook her. She had killed for the first time. The Mandalorian was snapped out of her trance by the increasing noise around her. Townspeople were beginning to gather and wonder what had happened. Shaking herself back into reality, Tempest rushed forward to present proof of her bounty and describe what had happened to the local authorities. They would provide her with a coffin to transport said bounty to the nearest Imperial outpost. That evening, Tempest sat alone inside the Broken Horn. There was a plate of re-hydrated food before her, and her helmet sat on the table next to it. She ate slowly, almost begrudgingly; though it had been over a year since she'd left the world of her birth, she still desperately missed the food. From within the back of the ship, the grey astromech rolled forward, beeping some affirmative to its master. "Ah, good. Good job, Blinky." Tempest replied. The droid had reported that their "cargo" had been secured for the next morning's journey. With a quiet, almost sad-sounding coo, Blinky approached Tempest, asking her if she was as troubled as she looked. "Wh--no. I'm fine, I'll be fine. Thanks for your concern though, buddy." Tempest was only partially right. Though it had been long since she'd abandoned Equestrian society, her childhood values still ate at her inside. Though she had killed the criminal in self-defense, and by accident, a bit of guilt hung over her. The ponies of Equestria valued all life as sacred, and were hesitant to even punish all but the most heinous villains. It was an attitude that Tempest told herself was foolish--look what it had gotten them when the Separatists invaded--but still, it was an attitude instilled in her as a filly, and she found it hard to dispel after she had violated it. Blinky nudged himself up against Tempest's seat, for which she gently patted his dome. "Thanks, Blinky."