You know about Kal Skirata, Mij Gilamar, and Rav Bralor. But what of the other Mandalorians? These are their stories.
The Tale of Jun Hokan
Stepping into the small room, Jun Hokan fingered his intricate knife made of beskar. Meetings with Hutts usually involved violence, and more often than not it started before the contract was even accepted.
Jun was dressed in green-and-tan beskar’gam, and a gun belt with two WESTAR-34 blasters filling its holsters rested on his waist. In addition, a matching WESTAR-35 was slung over his shoulder and around his jetpack. Jun, however, preferred his knife to any other weapon. It had gotten him through more issues than any of his three blasters.
Jun took another step, sweeping the room with a gaze. A Houk bodyguard stood against one wall, and Gammoreans were spaced throughout the room, axes in hand. Taking literal center stage of the room was a trio of Mirialan females, their green skin covered–scarcely–in tight leather.
Jun examined the bodyguards. DL-22 pistols. DH-17 carbines. Vibroknives. Light armorweave vests. Amateurs.
Then Jun turned his attention to the Hutt. Known as Durga, this Hutt had a strange black birthmark over his right eye in the shape of a scar. As Jun approached, two Gammoreans and the Houk came toward him, but Durga raised his hand.
The Hutt rumbled something in his language, and a silver protocol droid translated, “Let him pass. The Mandalorian is here of His Great Obesity’s desire.”
Jun struggled not to chuckle at the nickname, because he knew size was actually attractive to Hutts, and the bigger the Hutt, the more attractive. So he merely stepped past the Houk, thankful for his helmet and its concealing visor.
The Hutt said something again, to which the droid translated, “The Great Durga bids you welcome, and desires you to remove your helmet.”
Jun nodded and removed it, looking briefly at the brown-and-green design and the T-visor that was traditional in Mandalorian culture. Then he held it under his left arm, leaving his right free to reach for his knife.
Jun rubbed his shaved head, feeling the scar that ran from his left ear to his jaw. The scar he had earned fighting alongside Jaster Mereel in the Civil War.
“My job, Great Durga?” he asked.
Durga chuckled. “Your job,” began the droid, “will be to track another of Great Durga’s bounty hunters, who had the audacity to demand more than his share of payment when the job was done. He shot one of Durga’s highest bodyguards and fled.”
“You got a holo of the guy?” Jun asked.
The Houk stepped forward and activated a small holo. The bounty hunter was a Duros, with blue skin and red eyes. He wore a broad-brimmed hat and a trenchcoat. In custom leather quick-draw holsters, he had custom LL-30 pistols.
“His name,” the droid said, “is Cad Bane.”
Jun didn’t know how, but he had been swindled into staying for dinner. The Mirialan dancers had begun putting on “personal” shows, which Jun studiously ignored–or at least, tried to.
Instead, his thoughts were turned to Galidraan. The fact that he hadn’t been there was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing, because he would have been killed had he been there–all Mandalorians there save Jango Fett had.
A curse, because his wife had been there.
His wife, the woman he’d married and had a son with, had died by the hand of a Jedi. She had fought alongside Jango to the end, but in the end a Jedi had cut her down.
And he had been left alone with his son.
Eventually, even his son had left–grown to adulthood and married himself. Jun was proud of his son–but he missed him.
One of the Mirialans saw him sitting alone and began swaying her way over. She stood behind him and ran her hand across his cheek before sitting on his lap, her back pressed against his chest. She sat so her chest was directly below his chin–if he looked down to get a bite of his food…he’d get an eyeful as well as a mouthful.
He glanced at her and raised an eyebrow, and she gave him a lascivious smile. He was tempted–oh, so very tempted–to look down. But the memories of his wife were still too painful.
The Mirialan stuck out her lip in a pout that made her somehow even more attractive, and she leaned in close, brushing her lips across his cheek. Jun’s entire body shuddered.
He was saved when his comlink beeped. The dancer stood, disappointed, and walked away. Jun stood and pulled out his comlink.
“Hokan,” he said.
“Hokan, it’s Skirata.”
Jun smiled a little. Munin Skirata was one of his best friends. Walking over to a private corner of the dining room, Jun answered.
“How’s it going, ner vod?”
“Good, Jun. A couple of us got a job battling a group of anti-government enemies on Yag’Dhul. You want to join us?”
Jun chuckled. “Wish I could, old friend. But I’ve got a job. A really dangerous one.”
“Oh? Who’s the target?”
Munin paused. “Tion’ad hukaat’kama?” Who’s watching your back?
“No one, vod. I’m doing this one solo.”
Jun could imagine Munin shaking his head. “Good luck, Jun.”
“Thanks. Ret’urcye mhi.” Goodbye.
Thankful to be away from Durga’s palace, Jun flew his personal fighter into hyperspace. After he’d hung up his comlink, the Mirialan had assumed he was available, and had tried advancing on him again–and again and again.
Jun flew his ship faster. The sooner he was away from that place, the better. Jun knew Cad Bane was considered the second-best bounty hunter out there–losing only to Jango Fett. And since Jango had been missing since Galidraan, Cad Bane was by default the best.
So Cad Bane would be taking on the biggest bounty currently out there.
Jun turned on his ship computer.
“Computer, find the biggest bounty out there.”
“Confirmed,” said the automated voice. “Largest sum currently on the head of a sentient is for seven hundred thousand credits.”
“Whose head is it on, and who placed it?”
The computer hummed. “The bounty is on a man named Hityamun Kris.”
Jun knew the name. Hityamun Kris had once been a Mandalorian–as young as they came, in fact. He was only half Jango’s age. At the age of twelve, he had left the clans when Jaster Mereel had been killed. Ever since, he had been a street kid, finding jobs where he could.
But that had been years ago. Kris must have been almost twenty by now. Jun had heard rumors about him–a bounty hunter on the rise, some said. Others insisted that Kris was a bodyguard to a Black Sun Vigo. Either way, the price on his head was huge. And Cad Bane was just the man to take it.
“So,” Jun said aloud. “I track down Kris, convince him not to fight, and wait for Cad Bane to show up so I can take him down.”
The computer beeped. “Why not just take Kris’ bounty?”
“He was once a Mandalorian,” Jun said. “I don’t hunt my own people.”
Jun stood on Nar Shaddaa, watching the traffic with care. He had heard Hitch Kris would be running an errand for a Vigo today. Time to go.
Jun lowered his helmet’s rangefinder and focused on one specific speeder. The sleek black vehicle sped across the skyline and landed at a building Jun knew was an office. He raised his rangefinder and took off.
Breaking down the back door of the office, Jun walked in carefully, one blaster raised. Two security officers, on a Weequay and the other human, charged at him, and he shot them both down.
Then he charged into the main office. Inside stood Hitch Kris and a human male in a business suit. Near the door were two bodyguards wearing Mandalorian armor. Both of them raised their rifles.
Hitch’s eyes widened. “Mandalorian,” he said.
“Hityamun Kris,” Jun replied. “I’m here to warn you. There’s a large sum of credits on your head, and I believe Cad Bane may try to collect.”
Kris reached for his blaster, and for a moment Jun was afraid he would fire. But the man walked to him instead.
“I can handle myself,” he said.
Kris was wearing his Mandalorian armor, save for the helmet, which was slung behind his belt. His jumpsuit was gray, with light blue armor plates.
“Come on,” Jun said.
Abruptly there was the howl of a sniper shot, and the man in the business suit collapsed. Jun pulled out his second pistol and looked around. One of Kris’ bodyguards stood in front of the man, while the other scanned the area.
Then the window shattered, and a white-skinned woman with red hair leapt in. She wore a sleeveless red jumpsuit and brown vest and boots, and at her sides hung a pair of pistols. She was holding a red-bladed lightsaber.
“Aurra Sing,” Jun said.
The bounty hunter sheathed her lightsaber and pulled out one of her blasters, training it on Kris. Too late, the ex-Mandalorian reached for his helmet, but Sing fired. One of the bodyguards leapt forward and took the shot on his throat.
Jun fired his blasters. Sing leapt aside and pulled out her other pistol, firing back. Jun kicked over the desk and ducked behind it. Kris and his remaining bodyguard joined him, and together the three fired on Sing.
Despite being outnumbered, the bounty hunter was controlling the battle–and winning. Then, too suddenly to register, a blue stun bolt shot from the door and slammed into Sing. She collapsed, and Jun looked up to see an IG-86 assassin droid standing there. Jun raised an eyebrow. Why would an assassin droid fire on stun, unless–?
And then a rain of blaster bolts slammed into the droid, breaking it to pieces. Then Cad Bane entered the room.
“I may be able to use Sing later,” Bane hissed. “But those droids are a decicred a dozen.”
Jun grinned under his helmet. His target had arrived. Drawing his knife, Jun leapt forward. Bane fired his pistols, but Jun used his jetpack to maneuver around the blasts.
Then he landed in front of Bane and lunged with his knife. The Duros ducked and dropped his pistols, at the same time rolling aside to grab a vibroblade from a sheath on the dead bodyguard.
Jun lunged, stabbing the knife out in front of him. Bane’s slightly longer blade blocked the blow, but Jun was faster, and his knife was already low, going for Bane’s gut. The bounty hunter rolled back and slashed, and Jun reversed his grip on the knife, holding it backhand.
Bane slashed, and Jun blocked. The backhand grip was easy to attack with, giving him greater speed and an easier block. But Bane was unpredictable. Jun would need to use all his tricks to win this one.
“You’re good, Mandalorian,” said Bane. “Too bad you’re not Jango Fett. I’d like to meet my match.”
Jun snarled and feinted left. Bane started an overhand slash, but Jun rolled aside and slashed out, and his blade cut through Bane’s trenchcoat, tunic, and shirt. Blue blood spurted everywhere, and Jun realized he’d accidentally hit what was, for a Duros, a vital organ.
“Nice job,” Kris noted. “You here to collect the bounty on me, too?”
“No,” Jun said. “You may not be of the clans, but you once were. I won’t betray that.” He saluted with his finger. “Stay safe. Three deadly bounty hunters took a shot at you at once. I’m sure you’re not out of danger yet.”
Kris nodded, then turned to his bodyguard. “Let’s go,” he said.
And Jun left to collect his bounty.