THE STRAY ━━ the mandalorian

ONE

"Strictly business, huh? Well, you're in luck," He rummages through his pockets before finding what he's looking for. "These are just in." He places several pucks on the table, labeling each as he goes.

"More bail-jumpers?" Naomi heaves a disappointed sigh. "C'mon Greef. These are all cheap."

"It's all I have," he states. "Take it or leave it."

A sigh, then another, as she leans forward to inspect each puck. Without a ship, the most she can do is one or two bounties at a time—slow business for the hungry hunter. The jobs that lay before her are hardly worth the effort, though. One wouldn't even win her enough credits to pay for the ride.

Just as she opens her mouth to complain, the door to the bar hisses open, drawing the hunter's attention. Her lips form a thin line when she glances over her shoulder.

Speak of the fucking devil.

The Mandalorian himself saunters up to their table, covered head to toe in worn beskar. He ignores the countless stares from surrounding patrons as his emotionless helmet trails on their boss.

"You're back," Greef remarks, leaning comfortably into the booth. "That was fast. Did you catch them all?"

Without saying a word, the Mandalorian places a handful of tracking fobs on the table, each one representing a different bounty. Naomi feels herself frown at the sight.

"Good. I'll begin the off-load," Greef tells him with a nod. He calls out to another guild member in Huttese, telling them to gather the bounties from Mando's ship. Naomi listens quietly and the frown on her face deepens.

Of course, he has his own ship. Asshole.

Her face is taut with envy as the Mandalorian unhooks the rifle from his back and slides into the booth next to her. He recognizes her as one of the many members of the guild, well known for her record timing (second to only himself). She stiffens at his sudden closeness as he towers next to her, armor alone taking up half the booth. She does her best to ignore it as she watches Greef reach into his pockets for payment.

"Those are imperial credits." The Mandalorian's gruff voice purrs through his helmet when Greef placed them on the table. Naomi feels the words reverberate through her chest as she sits practically shoulder to shoulder with the armored hunter.

"They still spend," Greef assures, pushing the credits forward. Mando isn't having it. His hands stay where they were, stubbornly resting on the table despite the payment that lays before him.

"I don't know if you've heard, but the Empire is gone," he persists. A quiet groan leaves Naomi as she rolls her eyes. If he doesn't take them, she will. She hates the empire but hey, money is money.

"It's all I've got," Greef says firmly. The Mandalorian, still not satisfied, reaches for his bounties.

Greef is quick to catch his wrist. "Save the theatrics," he says almost desperately. He seems to regret his decision when the Mandalorian looks up at him, helmet tilting in dangerously. "Fine..." Greef surrenders. "I can do Calamari Flan, but I can only pay half." He places three new credits on the table, thick and foggy blue. It's a rare currency in this sector and one Naomi would love to get her hands on. Her eyes narrow. Greef only paid her in imperial credits.

"You've been holding out on me, Greef."

The Mandalorian's helmet turns to her briefly before looking back to their employer. "Fine," is all he says before his gloved hand reaches out. The tension disperses as he pockets the money, seeming satisfied. "What's next?"

Greef sighs before gesturing to the pucks on the table. "As I was telling Miss Armana..." Naomi listens quietly as he lists the various bounties she was studying moments ago.