»»—- Violent Delights —-««

One simply cannot engage in barbarous action
without becoming a barbarian ...
one cannot defend human values by calculated
and unprovoked violence
without doing mortal damage to the values
one is trying to defend.

J. William Fulbright, The Arrogance of Power

Chapter Three: The Lunar Feast

"Nír?" Hek sang from the corridor, whacking the door again with the palm of her hand. Her stomping feet and strength were camouflaged by her slender form.

Valyr rubbed her temple, exhaling deeply. She took the moment to herself; one final, precious second to prepare for her friend's company. Then she brushed her dress down, pushed a coiled curl behind her ear and reached for the doorhandle. Everything in her room was neat. Not a frame hung haphazardly, nor the duvet lay creased.

"One moment!" Her wardrobe was closed. The secret leaning within it was hers alone. Valyr opened the door, sweeping up Hek in a squealing embrace. "You look wonderous."

"And you, rather benevolent," she grinned, raising a wicked eyebrow. They swept out of her chamber and down the corridor. The iridescent clutch in Valyr's hand was cold. Within it was an inconspicuous pen which hid a blade inside.

"Isn't it freeing?" Hek ran a hand through her sleek hair. It rippled over her shoulders and down her back, glistening in the evening light. "I scarcely remember what it was like at home when I was allowed it down all the time."

"I prefer it hidden," Valyr admitted. "Keeps patients away. The stalkers."

"Oh," Hek gushed. "I love the chase."

"It's frivolous. Who has time to fraternise?" They rounded a corner, entering a darkened hallway where lanterns hung on the rafters and servers presented them with flutes of wine. "When the world is always… so hateful?" She took a glass, holding it under her nose.

Hek sipped hers. "Well, that is not benevolent of you. Was your time with Frode not pleasant?"

"He wanted me to leave so he could have a chat with his Father."

"Ah. You know, you never speak of yours. Touchy subject?"

"Definitely not. I'm glad to have escaped. My parents were-are putridly overbearing." Holding her head high, she looked down at the other guests walking towards the entrance hall. For a few moments, she held her teeth tightly together and held her glass with distaste. Hek pulled her curious gaze away from her, staring in wonder at the Lunar decorations coming into view.

Valyr reached for a floating crescent moon. It was silky to touch, shimmering at the sensation of her fingers. "What are we celebrating again?" she followed Hek towards the main hall.

"We are not celebrating." Hek pointed to the gathering of rich guests. "They are."

With a huff of discontent, she stared. "I forgot we were child-minders."

"They can't control their anger or their money. It's a celebration of the Anthan's moons. All twenty-seven of them. It's a shame they don't throw a separate party for each one."

"Ball gown shopping is quite pleasing," Valyr smiled, bumping Hek's shoulder.

"We'll definitely need to find you a pair of new shoes," she grabbed Valyr's skirts and lifted them to reveal boots. "You should be arrested."

Valyr pretended to punch her shoulder. "Maybe it'll be us two heading to the infirmary instead."

Hek pushed her back, snorting, "don't tempt me."

Mykes strolled between the champagne socialists, greeting and offering drinks to them. The head of the Healing Sanctuary caught Valyr's eye and beckoned them over. With a pale hand, he presented the two women. His purple eyes were bright with excitement. "As I have reassured, we have the best healers in the galaxy under our wing, Senator."

The rickety man nodded, ruffling his silk overcoat as he reached for Valyr. "Nír OP-4," she took the hand of the superior, bowing her head respectfully. "Eternal blessings to you, Senator."

The man pressed a thumb into her palm, "and you, angel," he simmered.

With a bow, the Myke dismissed them. "And we have your best interests at heart in case your offspring are involved in any… mishaps."

"Bastard children," the senator grumbled. "I'd have ejected them into space if I could." The Myke laughed heartily as Valyr and Hek shared a look, walking away.

"I've never met a family that is genuinely happy," Valyr said. "Not one."

"I suppose mine was… before my fifteenth brother was born half Qiraash. Took some pushing to get his ginormous cranium out of my mother."

"What did you Father do?"

"He stayed, albeit a part of him knew he hadn't help produce a kid with a big brain." Hek linked her arm with Valyr's as they reached the bar. "Fake happiness is the worst kind anyway."

The Themian barman offered them a menu. His rich purple robes and floor-length hair was startling against the white decorations. With eyes as dark as coal, he was alluringly attractive. He was a sentient species from the Inner Rim planet of Themis. They usually lived on their home-planet, under the rule of King Lumon. Valyr wondered if he was on the run as well.

She picked a fruit drink.

"That senator though," Hek said. "You let him hold onto your hand long enough. I nearly ripped his arm off pulling away."

"I have manners. Besides," Valyr raised an eyebrow, "no one touches me unless I want them to."

"And allowing him to assault your hand was acceptable?"

"It pays to have powerful friends."

"Pays to keep your lady garden under lock and key." Hek shivered. "Who knows what ghosts are crawling around the skin of his…"

"Hek…" Valyr shot her a testy look which the woman met with a repressed giggle. "Speaking of phantoms, didn't you promise Gon a dance?"

"Are you insinuating my lover is a menace?"

Valyr sipped her mocktail. "Am I?" she grinned.

"On the Gods," Hek rolled her eyes, shoving her wine in Valyr's hand. "You're the menace. Drink up and find yourself a lover." Valyr went to open her mouth but Hek flared her nostrils. "Definitely not the senator."

With that, Hek disappeared in a flurry of azure. Her hair billowed behind her. Valyr's amused smile slipped off her face. She suddenly felt very alone. Maybe returning to Frode's abysmal company wasn't such a bad idea.

As she leaned against the bar, she studied the guests. The orchestra hummed an ethereal tune, enchanting the listeners to dance amongst the floating stars. Several server droids wheezed between them, holding platters of flower-crackers. The lights dimmed.

Hek would've been fun to dance with. She would've laughed, urging Valyr to join in and be content for several minutes. The Senator swayed with a young Myke, whispering in her ear and spinning her gently. His hands were on her waist, not to low but in the crook of the Myke's waist.

Valyr let her free hand drift up her side, wishing for company. She glanced at the entryway and spotted a group of leather-clad men. They were glaring around the room with their fists clenched. That was the wrong type of company.

With an uncomfortable cough, she drained her glass of fruit and distractedly played with the rim of Hek's wine.

The ironclad hunters stomped into the crowd, disappearing for a short while. Valyr stared ahead, focusing on them as they popped between gaps. It was obvious they were on the hunt for something.

Her gaze drifted to the other side of the room. The colour drained from her face. A chilling breeze swept over her, sending goose bumps up her arms. She gripped the flute in her hand, threatening to break it into a thousand pieces. It was an angel of death; a bringer of the afterlife. It was a seal on the letter that was doom.

It was a Mandalorian.

Valyr hurried towards an archway out of the hall. Her shoes drummed on the ground as she began to sprint towards a corridor lined with a balcony. The floating decorations swished above her, startled by her pace and flurry.

A beep echoed far away. It was familiar and gut-wrenching.

Valyr shot a look behind her, hurrying around a corner and down the hall with her dress clutched in her hand.

Noises echoed from the room at the end of the corridor. Gasping, she shot a desperate look down the hall. She burst through an unlocked storage room and slammed it shut with her heart hammering against the roof of her chest.

Furious beeping crept closer to her.

And the moronic forthcoming of her attackers

"Here!" someone shouted. "Oi!"

"Who, in fuck, are you?"

Another stomped close to the door. "Might ask you the same question?"

"My chit is gonna explode," a man bellowed. "It's one of you bastards!"

The Western Sky Corridor

Din Djarin sauntered out of the hall and through the maze of psychedelic halls. The air was swamped with silver glitter, raining down upon the guests in a euphoric curtain. It reflected off his visor, creating a void of darkness for any onlooker.

The chit in his hand dully beeped. He found he was edging closer to the bounty as he turned a corner.

He held the chit up, watching the red light quicken and turned into another hallway. An uproar of shouting and squabbling caught his attention. He stood deathly still, unwavering in the middle of the space.

"What a fucking mess," he muttered, taking a loud step forward. The bounty hunters fell silent, still clutching one another, but turning to stare at the Mandalorian. All were putridly ugly and unkept. It appeared the Client was desperate for these two beings and was willing to send any scum after them. The scum never succeeded which was why he needed Din Djarin.

A proud and snotty smirk grew on his lips. "Have I interrupted?"

"'Ere for the bounty, ain't we?" one yakked. "'Urry along pretty boy."

"You can't see his face," the second sneered.

"Shut it, you!"

The third seethed, reeling back a fist. "You back off. This one here is mine."

Spitting his words, the first hunter held the second with his hands still. "It be mine." They erupted into a choir of grunting, growling and shouting. Din lost track of which hunter clutched which and whether one of them was the bounty he sought.

The chit bleeped quickly in his hand. "Which one of you fools am I after?" he demanded loudly.

"Not me!" they all cried. The bald man trapped between another's thighs huffed and puffed, his face bright red. "I lost my puck!" he cried, "I dropped it in the hall!"

"Liar," the hunter pressed his fingers into the man's eyeballs.

Screaming the potential bounty, clawed at his face. "I swear!"

There was a disturbing accumulation of grunts, growls and grumbles from behind the door. Valyr chewed her fingernail; biting down and spitting out a little piece. She didn't particularly want to stop the hunters murdering an innocent… hunter. Were they innocent? Valyr couldn't take the moral high ground with much; definitely not murder.

She exhaled, letting her head drop back so she could stare at the ceiling. Gum, wet tissue and liquid stained it. She ran her tongue along the front of her teeth.

Her smirk slipped from her face. She rubbed her eyes furiously until they began to water and sting. After a quick exhale, she shakily opened the door and stared out. Her eyes were wide, shimmering with tears and fear.

The men slumped against the floor, staring at her as she emerged. She peered at each of them fully. "What… what's happening?" she shivered. Each one watched her in brute fascination. From the bald, the plump, the bearded and the Mandalorian, she stared at each for several seconds and repeated herself.

The bald hunter scrambled to his feet. "Nothin', my lady. S'well. Just in a bit of a tustle, s'all." With a harsh swipe, another hunter smacked him in the face. It sent him crashing into the Mandalorian's side.

Din backhanded the man for his audacity.

"Be on your way, fair lady," the plump one offered, swinging a hand out and pointing towards the end of the corridor. Valyr bowed her head, wiping a tear away. She edged out of the storage room and against the wall. "Won't hurt ye'. Yer not involved," he said, scratching his open head wound.

"O-Of course," she played, "I'm sorry."

"Just bounty business," he continued. Valyr's eyes snapped up to the Mandalorian, who watched her silently and unabashedly. She apologised again, forcing her narrative on him and praying he was as pathetic as the others.

His race was legendary throughout the galaxy. She knew her luck was running out on Anthan Prime. An itch within her mind told her he was her downfall.

"Wait," he said, his voice cutting through her like a dagger crystallised with ice. She stepped back again and in turn, he moved forward. "Don't move," he took out his tracking fob. Their gathering stared at it as the red beep flashed. It was quick, like a drumbeat.

Valyr tilted her head, her eyes drifting up to the Mandalorian's face. In the darkness of his visor, she imagined a pair of greedy, unforgiving eyes. The faux fear slipped out of her expression as he took another step. And another. His steel boots shook the ground beneath her feet, sweeping up every inch of her façade until she was within touching distance.

The fob blared relentlessly. It screeched its answer, earning a gasp from the amateur hunters. They scrambled to their feet, half-conscious and prepared.

Din Djarin lowered the fob, tilting his head down at her. A knowing grin crept up Valyr's face. She raised a hand, mimicking the surrendering pose of a fool. In the second she knew the Mandalorian was allowing her to do so, she shoved a hand into her hair and whipped a needle from the curls.

Throwing it sideways, she shot the poisonous dart into the neck of one of the hunters. He fell back with a cry, slumping against the wall. The third hunter revealed a blaster, shoving it against Valyr's head.

Din grasped his own blaster, his Beskar steel future flashing as a memory. "They want her alive!" he snapped.

"I will kill her!" he snapped.

"You don't have the balls," Valyr spat. Throwing a leg out, she kicked the hunter in the shin. He buckled over, his gun shooting at the Mandalorian who stumbled back in surprise. With his hefty weight, the hunter fell forwards and slammed against Valyr. It knocked the breath from her lungs.

Her head collided with the concrete wall, earning a groan. The blurred vision made it difficult to distinguish where she was grappling as she scratched the hunter's face and chest. The silk dress was too constricting for her to lift her legs and jab a knee into his underside; preferably the thing between his thighs.

Din watched the hunter push a sweaty hand against Valyr's face, clamping her mouth. With the other hand, he pressed the end of the blast against her temple and seethed a string of curses. He clenched his fist, storming towards the hunter.

Valyr's vision stabilised. She stared up as the shining barrel, sensing its cold malice on her skin. Then, there was a crack. The weight from her legs was gone, as was the gun. It all lay a meter from her, having been punched off and into oblivion.

Valyr's head snapped back to the Mandalorian. She crawled to her feet and was a sick, pitiful smirk on her lips as she feigned courage.

Din breathed heavily from his enraged beating and watched her carefully through the electronic visor analysing every inch of the corridor. She was mundanely human; with an inhumane price on her head. The slight appearance suggested she hadn't feasted as well as any Anthan occupier should have; nor had she slept in many moons. The racing heartbeat flashed up on his monitor. He wouldn't have guessed she was on the verge of hyperventilating. The cool exterior was polished and refined.

"Come on then," she breathed. "Join the others in Hell, why don't you?"

"After I hand you in," he clenched his fist and dove, grabbing the blaster from the floor and fluidly raising it. Valyr had also sprung to action. With a sonic spear in her hands, she levelled with the Mandalorian and stared at him through the scope.

They shot in unison; in a sloppy, unprepared conundrum of battle. Din attempted to frighten her; craving the Beskar which came with her living form. The conjoined blasts of their shots sent a high-pitched screech through the hall, throwing Valyr off balance. Her shot ricocheted down the corridor.

Din ducked.

Clutching her ear, Valyr shot blindly at him and scampered away. She stumbled towards the door and shot again. Din's hard-faced armour caught both shots. They rippled through him, causing his falter and Valyr's escape. She burst through the archway and into the entrance hall.

Guests loitered. The music too loud and distracting for any of them to notice Valyr and Din's scrat. She tripped against a marble wall, feigning drunkenness and continued towards the gallery.

The Mandalorian was in wavering pursuit. He stormed out of the corridor and after Valyr, shoving his blaster away and hold his fists tightly. The guards chatted lazily against the walls, half-drunk but unbothered by his appearance. With a slurred whistle, they called out for Valyr's attention. She shot a hiss back, her eyes sliding to Din.

Venom flashed. He swore he saw her bare teeth and then scuttle around the corner like a snake, or underground creature pulled from hiding.

In steady pursuit, he followed.

The celebration had morphed into a slanderous catfight. Groups of guests huddled with one another, cursing and preparing to throw punches. Glass flutes lay broken, cracking beneath Din's boots. There was a vivid stench of burning wafting underneath his helmet.

"Mandalorian!" someone cried, rushing to him. The man took hold of his arm, gripping the armour tightly. Din stared down at him in disgusted annoyance. "I will pay you if you assassinate that woman over there," throwing a finger in the direction of a frail woman wearing a thick string of Perloz pearls. "She stole my inheritance fund!"

Another woman appeared, distracting the man, "she's his wife, you stupid git."

"She's a thief!"

Din wrenched his arm out of the man's grasp. "I'm not a slave. Especially to the rich."

A scream echoed from the middle of the hall. "The Senator's son!"

In the hostility of opposing gangs and underworld drug wars, the resort always transformed into a battlefield. Albeit small, the casualties were always guaranteed.

Valyr pushed through the raging crowd, bursting into a small clearing where the Senator gripped his son's limp body. Blood pooled from his abdomen. She rushed forward, her fingers pressing against his neck to find a weak pulse.

"He's alive," she said, her eyes darting up to several approaching officers. Hek shoved through the onlookers, holding her ballgown tightly. In the few seconds, Valyr had to spare, she analysed the boy quickly and accurately. "Puncture wound to the periumbilical region. Looks like an infraumbilical stab wound."

Word spread quickly. The off-duty medical officers flew a stretcher into the room, heaving the boy onto it. He gasped, shooting to consciousness and immediately began to cry. "It was the Hell's Angels!" he blubbered, throwing a bloody finger around the room. "It was them, Father!"

"He stole from us!" a deep voice cawed. Valyr scoffed, clambering to her feet. Her dress was ruined, quickly staining with the boy's blood. She should've expected it, but annoyance crossed her features as she followed the casualty.

Hek cursed under her breath, brushing up against her bare arm. "I was in the skytower with Gon," she said, envisioning the passionate affair. "I was about to climax!"

Valyr eyed the crowd, scanning the faces; the purple, blue and red bodies of guests. None of them were steel; silver and shining soldiers. Clenching her teeth, she took ahold of her skirts and fell into line beside the Senator.

In the roar of the crowd, a low beep echoed. The Mandalorian watched the healers swiftly ascend, soon to be dressed in white and unrecognisable. His gaze fell on the lilac dress as it dragged over the porcelain surface. His bounty held her skirts took high for a moment, flashing a pair of brown, lace boots.

Comments:

naria4 - aaah! thank you for reading! How did you find their first meeting. Its slightly peculiar and foreboding, but they will meet again! Happy reading xx

.2019 - thank you for commenting and enjoying the second chapter! I hope this has continued the fiction well! Happy reading xx