//------------------------------//
// A Complicated Profession, Pt. 1 
// Story: Scum and Villainy 
// by The Mountaineer Brony 
//------------------------------//

That night, Tempest had the dream again.





Fire.

Fire from the sky.

Land and trees and lives being incinerated around her.

The very atmosphere roared and rippled as burning blue energy blasts rained down from the beyond and gouged great craters into the planet below. The Storm King's airship moved at full speed, trying to weave its lumbering mass between the laser beams as they fell, narrowly dodging total annihilation. 

"Take evasive action! All hands to emergency stations!" the voice of the Storm King bellowed from the upper deck. "Tempest!"

Tempest Shadow stood in frightened awe as the energy blasts rushed by, blowing holes into the earth around them, tearing up trees, vaporizing ocean, and obliterating settlements.

"TEMPEST!"

The unicorn snapped out of her horrified reverie and turned to face her commander.

"Wake the hell up and go secure the forward rigging! Tell Grubber to batten down the hatches!"

With a sharp nod, Tempest galloped towards the front of the ship. The whole structure was swaying as the massive balloon holding it aloft was being blown back and forth by the turbulence generated as the lasers displaced air around it. Upon reaching the bow of the vessel, Tempest quickly took hold of the rope in her teeth, tying it more securely around its hitch. After repeating this for all the rigging, she stuck her head into a hatch below deck and called for Grubber.

"Grubber! Get topside! The Storm King wants those hatches battened!"

"I'm on it! I'm on it!" Said the diminutive honey badger as he stumbled towards the stairs. His characteristic lisp made him difficult to understand above the noise and terror going on around them. "This isn't lookin' so good, Commander! This ship isn't built for--"

Suddenly, Grubber was interrupted by a deafeningly loud noise and a great rocking of the ship. Tempest herself nearly fell over onto her side. One of the giant energy beams had grazed the airship's port side, tearing a hole in the balloon and shearing off part of the wooden gondola below. Fire began to spread across the deck as the great flagship rapidly lost altitude.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhh, we're gonna die, we're gonna die, WE'RE GONNA DIE!" Grubber began to panic as he rushed up the stairs, past Tempest, and onto the main deck. 

"All hands, brace for impact!" called the Storm King from the opposite end of the ship.

Tempest tried to run back up the deck of the collapsing ship, hoping to find relative safety in the main cabin, dodging barrels and crates as she went. But her hooves weren't quick enough.

She felt herself being lifted into the air before the impact came. Funny things happen when you're aboard a plummeting aircraft. In fact, Tempest didn't even feel any pain for a few seconds after hitting the deck again. It was only when she heard the thunderous crunch of the ship's timbers and the canvas of the deflating balloon fluttering above her did her body realize the tremendous pain it was in. Fortunately, she would be spared from the brunt of her misery by a falling hunk of wood striking her cranium and knocking her unconscious.

No more than a couple of minutes had passed before Tempest felt herself being shaken awake with little regard for her damaged body.

"Tempest?! Tempest! You gotta wake up! We need to move!" It was Grubber, rustling her with his little paws until she slowly revived. Other than mussed fur and a minor cut on his forehead, the honey badger seemed no worse for wear from the crash. Tempest slowly raised her head, though it pounded with pain and her vision was blurry, and looked at him.

"Ngh... Grubber? Wha-- ah!" She inhaled sharply, wincing as she felt her head and tried to find her words. "What's happening?"

With little consideration for her injuries, Grubber quickly pulled Tempest to her hooves, supporting her on his shoulder. "The ship's comin' apart, we need to MOVE!"

It was then that Tempest heard the creaking. A great lurching noise, louder than any creaking floorboard she'd ever heard. It sounded as though a massive redwood were tipping over onto her as the large section of the ship cried out in agony, breaking away. With but a moment's glance upward, Tempest and Grubber bolted from the wreckage as fast as their legs could carry them, the flaming hunk of airship sounding its death knell as it careened towards the scorched earth. The two of them just managed to escape certain death, riding the rush of debris out onto the open ground.

After the survivors had been extricated from the wreckage, those crewmen versed in first aid began to treat the countless injuries, their hospital a patch of empty ground on the barren plains, the airship burning away behind them. As she lay on the earth being carefully removed from her armor, Tempest began to realize the full extent of her pain. She wanted to pass out again, but instead grit her teeth through the aching, determined to come out of this nightmare a stronger pony.

As she expected with what mental clarity she had, Tempest had a concussion. Her inspection also revealed three injured ribs--two cracked, one broken--on her left side and various bloody scrapes and bruises across her body. Gravity had taken its toll for certain, but fortunately, the medical supplies had been salvaged from below deck, and Tempest was able to be bandaged up and given morphine.

Some time later, Tempest began to regain her senses, although her skull still pounded. She gently raised her head to inspect herself, and immediately realized she was more exposed than she was used to being. True, most ponies didn't wear clothes regularly, but Tempest did, and she, fittingly, felt naked as she lay there, tucking her tail between her legs. She saw the various bandages that had been affixed to her scrapes, some stained redder than others, as well as the tightly bound wrappings around her barrel, securing her injured ribs. It hurt her to breathe, but the morphine made it bearable. Tempest also laid eyes upon her Cutie Mark with a frown. She'd always hated it, the thing that kept her tethered to her past. That was another reason she wore clothes constantly: to not have to look at it.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Grubber approaching, carrying what appeared to be plates.

"Are you alright Temp-- I mean, Commander Tempest? They managed to recover a crate of rations, I figured you might be hungry."

Tempest wasn't sure if she could eat, but figured she'd need to keep her strength up. She motioned for Grubber to sit down beside her. The honey badger plopped himself upon the dirt and set the meal near the unicorn's mouth; a carrot, some bread, and what was probably applesauce. Carefully, and with gritted teeth, Tempest raised herself onto her stronger elbow to eat.

"Grubber... thank you for what you did back there." She said under her breath. Luna forbid anyone should hear Tempest Shadow express gratitude. "You saved my life. I owe you one."

"It's alright, Tempe-- Commander." He replied, making a meager sandwich to shove into his face. "I'm just glad you and I got out pretty much intact. A lot of others... didn't. Lots of bad, really bad injuries... lots of death, too..."

Tempest quietly munched on the carrot in thought. It could stand to be cleaner.

"How is the Storm King?" She asked after a while.

"Not good." Grubber replied, having already engulfed his food. "His fur is all singed, he's got a lot of cuts and scrapes, a broken horn, and he broke his left arm really bad. They were working pretty hard to stabilize him."

Tempest felt worry creep through her broken body. Admittedly, she didn't feel any particular affection for her employer, but she had joined him in the hopes of restoring her broken horn. Now, as he lay with his own body horribly beaten and broken, Tempest wondered if she would ever get her chance again, or if the Storm King even had the powers he boasted of.

The two sat in silence a while longer as Tempest ate and Grubber picked debris from his fur. The bread, Tempest decided, was old and stale, and the applesauce--it was definitely applesauce, despite its coloration--had an odd taste about it, but she ate them anyway, hoping it would nourish her. After some time, however, Tempest noticed that everyone else around the crash site was looking to the sky, even Grubber. Confused, she glanced skyward herself--and her jaw dropped.

Zooming overhead were sleek metal craft, blue and grey with prong-shaped wings. And they appeared to be taking interest in the crash site.





Tempest awoke with a start, bolting upright in her bed aboard the ship. Instinctively, she turned on the lights and glanced around. Her quarters were small and sparsely decorated, but she found no danger. Just her helmet staring back at her from across the room. 

She sighed and rolled back over. She feared the memory of that day would never leave her.





The next morning, Tempest, her droid, and their newly-acquired "cargo" departed in the direction of home, making for the posting agency on Concordia, one of Mandalore's moons. As she brought the ship down onto one of the office's many landing pads, she could see countless individuals of more species than she could have imagined milling about in and out of the building.

"Must be a busy day for bounty hunters." She thought. "Is that really why they're all here?"

As she lowered the landing ramp, Tempest directed Blinky to run a standard diagnostic on the ship while she was gone, to which the droid beeped happily in reply. After going around to retrieve her bounty's coffin from the cargo bay, the newly-minted Mandalorian made her way through the crowds and into the posting agency, the long silver box hovering alongside her as she pulled it.

Inside, the throngs were even more densely packed as hunters, smugglers, and lowlifes of every shape and size stood around talking, looking at bulletin boards, or inspecting each other's weaponry. It was a lot for Tempest to take in; the last time she was here, it hadn't been nearly as busy, but she knew where she was headed, so she pushed through the crowds, stoically pulling the casket behind her. Along the way, she passed a group of bounty hunters looking at job postings on a hovering board, accidentally bumping into one of them with her cargo. The afflicted hunter, a tall, yellowish Trandoshan in a jumpsuit, turned and growled at her; Tempest uttered a quick apology under her breath and kept moving.

Not long after, she reached a central terminal, manned by several Imperial officers. Approaching the only available window, she saw behind the counter a thin human male, probably in his forties. He wore the starched, impeccably clean grey uniform typical of Imperial officers, complete with a small-brimmed cap, black gloves, and several metallic lapel pins indicating his rank. His face was thin and somewhat gaunt, sporting an expression of weariness as he tapped away on a datapad, almost certainly not very happy to be here. 

But of course, his was the only window without anyone in line.

Tempest stepped up to the counter which, unfortunately, was too tall for her. Despite this, the officer spotted her in his peripheral vision and craned his neck to look at her. 

"Yes?" Already, his sophisticated Core World accent was apparent to her.

"I've come to collect the bounty on this man." Tempest's stern voice came through her helmet. She had learned Galactic Basic quite well, though she still talked to herself in her native tongue. She tapped a hoof on the coffin, causing its lid to become transparent and reveal the corpse inside.

"Tag Burqari." She continued. "I have the warrant here if you--"

The unicorn found herself cut off by a loud sigh. The Imperial was pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You didn't need to bring that here." He said with a slight air of disgust. "You can just come here, report your bounty, and we send a team to collect it from your ship."

"...Ah." Tempest replied, glancing briefly at the dead Weequay beside her. The officer turned, retrieving a comlink from his desk and flicking it on.

"Undertakers, please respond. We have a bounty hunter with a casket at the Platform Cresh terminal. Requesting immediate retrieval, thank you."

Though it wasn't visible to anyone else, except perhaps by her down-turned ears, Tempest felt embarrassed. She was brand new to this, how was she supposed to know what to do? Still maintaining his expression of disinterest, the officer turned back to the short quadruped before him, bringing up a new form on his datapad. 

"Name?" 

"Tempest Shadow."

Tempest detected a puff of air from the officer's nose. It would seem he found himself amused by Equestrian names.

"Place of extradition?"

"Celanon. 49° 55' 22.566'' North, 6° 17' 44.1168'' West."

"At least you're precise..." he muttered under his breath. "Date of extradition?"

"Yester-- a standard day ago." Tempest was still getting used to the concept of different planets having different day and year lengths. Fortunately, the standardized system, based on Coruscant, the Imperial capital, wasn't that different from Equus: 24 hours per day, 365 days per year, divided between 12 months.

"Collecting the bounty on one Tag Burqari... wanted for robbery and murder..." The officer continued muttering to himself as he filled out the digital form. Meanwhile, three white-armored Imperial stormtroopers had appeared to collect the coffin from Tempest. By the time they had left for the crematorium, the officer was done with his paperless paperwork.

"Go to the tellers over there and present your hunter's license." said the officer, jutting a gloved finger across the building "They'll settle your payment for you."

"Thank you." replied Tempest with a small nod. The officer simply waved her away with a noise of apathy.

The teller at said window was a black-plated RA-7 protocol droid, though again, the counter was a bit too high for Tempest's stature. The droid's face was expressionless, but still somehow appeared visibly confused when Tempest presented her bounty hunter's license clenched in her teeth, for which she allowed just the end of her snout to be shown.

"Imperial Peace-Keeping Certificate #79648617-- registered to Tempest Shadow." the droid read out in its buzzing digital voice. "Here to collect your recent bounty on Tag Burqari, I presume?"

"That would be correct." Replied the little huntress, receiving her ID card back. She wished her magic were focused enough to handle minor tasks like this without difficulty, but for now, she'd have to use her mouth. She was sure her clan would understand.

"Unfortunately," the droid continued "you will have to be rewarded the smaller of two bounties, as the target was not breathing when you brought him here. Would you like a direct transfer to your credit account?"

"If you can give me cash, I'll take it." Tempest still had wished she could have spared the crook's life, but she would have to accept that she didn't. Besides, even though it was the smaller bounty, 1,500 credits was nothing to balk at. After a few minutes, she was presented with a small metallic attaché case full of golden credit chips. She was still living hoof-to-mouth, and as such didn't have enough money to warrant a bank account; she kept what she had in a safe onboard her ship.

After stowing her money away, Tempest came back to look over the newer job postings, the crowds amid the office now beginning to disperse. Her eyes scanned the bulletin board, looking for something simple that she felt confident in handling. There were any number of jobs available, but one in particular grabbed the unicorn's attention. It wasn't an Imperial posting, but one from a crime lord named Drek Vilrein, whom the Empire apparently recognized as a legitimate business partner.

"Seeking capable bounty hunters to protect cargo en route to Manaan..." Tempest read the notice to herself. "Must be willing to work with other hunters and split a profit of 50,000 credits?!" Even if she had to split it between herself and multiple hunters, Tempest still couldn't allow something this lucrative to be passed up-- especially for something as simple as protecting cargo. She finished reading the post as she downloaded the commission info onto her gauntlet. 

"Report to the Black Sun headquarters on Ord Mantell."





The voyage was long, as Tempest had expected, taking a few days even in hyperspace, though finally, the Broken Horn had dropped out of its jump, emerging just beyond the planet. The shuttle soared past Quantxi, the junkyard moon, its pollution easily evident from far away, before entering the atmosphere of Ord Mantell itself, a temperate blue-green world with many biomes across its surface. The Black Sun compound wasn't hard to locate: the main building rose like a grim obelisk from among the shanty towns surrounding it. The many landing pads about the base contained a collection of Black Sun ships, as well as some more unique ones that must have belonged to other bounty hunters.

After presenting her copy of the job posting and being allowed entrance into the compound, Tempest was led into a large bay meant for staging cargo. Inside, four other hunters stood mingling: a tall, gaunt, almost skeletal-looking being with sunken eyes and a perpetual look of anguish, a short creature with a pig-like face accompanied by a blackish, beaten-up droid, and a humanoid in leather armor and an orange helmet, leaning on a pike. Tempest couldn't identify the aliens, but the droid she recognized as a repurposed Separatist droid, a BX Commando, one of many kinds that ravaged her homeworld. She instinctively kept her distance from it.

It wasn't long before the door at the head of the cargo bay opened, out stepping a protocol droid announcing the arrival of Drek Vilrein, who followed shortly after. The crime lord was a human, shorter than some of the hunters but not diminutive. His face was angular, with a thin nose and narrow jawline bearing black stubble. His hair was swept back and messy, but he seemed to have wanted it that way. His skin was warm-toned and seemed to glow under the light. He wore an ankle-length, fur-lined coat that had seen better days over a plain shirt, bandolier, and heavy pants with countless pockets.

"I see my brave hunters have arrived." He said, throwing his arms wide. "I'm sure you will serve Black Sun well." The hunters collectively turned to face him. 

"So you're the one who wants some cargo moved?" asked the porcine hunter in a gruff, accented voice.

"Technically, that would be my employer." Vilrein replied. "He had some other business to attend to, so here I am. And here you all are."

The droid placed a datapad into the man's hand, and he perused the names and information of his hunters.

"Harun Mekol," said Drek, glancing at the pale, skeletal alien "one of the few bounty hunters among the Givin, but with an intellectual prowess few other species can match."

The short hunter stepped forward with a snort, as if waiting for the crime lord to toot his horn.

"The formidable pair of Bulgo Woog and RA-ZR!" Their employer seemed to lean into his announcement, giving the Ugnaught the hype man he was looking for. "34 total kills to their name and wanted in 12 systems! I'm sure two hunters of their caliber will bring something useful to this mission."

Spinning on his heels, Drek Vilrein turned to face the helmeted being, who stepped forward and spoke in a language Tempest didn't know-- not that it mattered, since the speech scrambler in his helmet produced a buzzing voice that would've been hard to decipher anyhow.

"The infamous Boushh, here to add to his list of successes, I see." The crime lord and bounty hunter shared a nod. "I'm sure we've all heard tell of your track record."

Finally, the man turned towards the last hunter. There was a pause, one that felt longer to Tempest than to anyone else.

"And lastly, one 'Tempest Shadow.' New to the business, I see." Vilrein took a moment to survey the creature standing before him, an odd, armored quadruped calling itself a bounty hunter. The others regarded Tempest somewhat unusually as well; Bulgo gave an amused snort upon learning her name.

"Well," their employer continued without missing too many beats "I'm sure this will be the beginning of an illustrious career." Once more he turned, trotting out to the middle of the group. 

"The Black Sun is lucky to have you all for this job." he said. "We've had issues running our goods to Manaan in the past; a certain band of pirates like to ambush our convoys, dragging them out of hyperspace and looting them. But I'm sure you all won't let that happen." Drek gestured to his protocol droid, who placed a holographic projector in front of them. The bluish light cast up a large image of a freight liner, a massive ship meant for hauling cargo.

"The five of you will take this unmarked ship, along with its consignment, along our smuggling routes to Manaan. We've taken a number of precautions to ensure you are not discovered, but should those pirates cause you trouble, the ship's auto-defenses will trigger to help you protect the cargo bay." The hologram zoomed inside the ship as he spoke, showing the layout of the bay and the locations of auto-turrets and blast doors throughout.

"What exactly are we hauling?" Tempest found herself asking. She winced a little as the other hunters turned their eyes on her, but their employer didn't seem fazed by the question. 

"Mining equipment." replied the human. "Our operations on Manaan have opened a new seam of ore beneath the planet's waves. They'll need these supplies to extract it." The hologram faded away as a large bay door across the room opened. The crime lord extended his hand in its direction, revealing the aforementioned cargo ship. 

"Barring any further questions," he said with a smile "your consignment awaits."