Star Wars: Broken Warriors
Author's Note:
Hello there, fellow Star Wars fan! Thank you for your interest in my newest story Star Wars: Broken Warriors. What you have here is a continuation of stories I've been writing over the past several years which follows a group of OCs (that started with two young best friends) that gradually came together in various circumstances under the shadow of the Galactic Empire, inevitably becoming entangled in the civil war against the Empire. Many, many events transpired over the course of these stories.
If you have been following my stories to this point, welcome back and thank you for sticking with it. If this is your first visit, a big welcome to you as well. Broken Warriors is both a follow-up and a side-story to my previous stories Star Wars: The Best Laid Plans and Star Wars: Darkness in the Light.
Broken Warriors centers around Rann Klepil, who was introduced in The Best Laid Plans Episode 3, and Den Berikko, who was introduced in Darkness in the Light. Since so much has happened leading up to this story I suggest you check them out, good for catching up or revisiting the history of my characters. Please go to my profile page and follow the links there to read them.
Before we start, I want to explicitly state that while the characters and situations presented in this story are my own, they reside within the realm of Star Wars, which was originally conceived by George Lucas and is currently owned by Lucasfilm/Disney. Thank you to Mr. Lucas for creating such a wonderful sandbox to play in.
So now... A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...
Chapter I
Pain. Indescribable pain. It was a pain so intense that it was blotted from her conscious memory. Still, it haunted her, re-manifested in occasional nightmares.
The last point where her memory was clear was being strapped to a table aboard an Imperial Star Destroyer. Over her stood a 2-1B droid. One such droid attended to her as a teenager convalescing aboard a MedStar after barely surviving the liberation of her homeworld at the end of the Clone Wars. But at this torture table sixteen years later, this particular droid was prominently emblazoned with an Imperial cogwheel emblem and one arm terminated with a nasty looking blaster. It pointed the barrel at her bare right foot, point blank. Then the searing pain began. And life as she knew it, ended.
At the point where flesh and bone met machine, Rann's right thigh burned terribly. From a small cabinet, she retrieved a dose of spice-derived pain killer. She had been warned of its addictive properties, but knew it wasn't some kind of phantom pain driven by a narcotic dependence on the drug. She still found it difficult to convince some people otherwise.
Rann took the medication and glared at her cybernetic leg, which was concealed by the single leg of her pant. She then looked at her real leg, exposed by the bikini-cut left pant leg, and gently rubbed it. Comforted by the warmth to the touch, she let out a soft sigh.
It has been almost four years since the destruction of the Empire's dreaded mega-weapon, the Death Star. It was a short-lived victory for the Alliance to Restore the Republic, but the conflict continued to spread throughout the galaxy as the demand for freedom from the Empire's tyrannical rule continued to rise. Some chose to seek out membership into the Alliance, and sometimes the Alliance sought out those who might wish to join.
Rann sat up from the bunk and walked up to the cockpit of the Skimmer. She sat down at the copilot's seat. "How's everything going, Den?" she asked with a smile.
He turned from the console to look at his lover. "Going very well, sweetheart." He stole a quick peck on her cheek. "We're right on schedule to Hyber."
The Skimmer, a customized GAT-12 Skipray Blastboat, sped through hyperspace to her destination. The planet Hyber lacked an abundance of useful resources to exploit for the war effort and wasn't near any strategic hyperspace routes, so the Empire left the planet's insignificant population alone.
Rann and Den joined the Alliance nearly three years ago. Before that, she was from a band of bounty hunters, and he a freelance smuggler. They met through a chance encounter and were caught up in a struggle against the Empire. After the ensuing events, the Rebel Alliance gained new manpower in the form of several former bounty hunters and one former smuggler.
An indicator flashed and chirped on Den's console, drawing his gaze away from Rann. "We're coming up on the Hyber system. Prepare to exit hyperspace." He threw the switch and the wormhole quickly dissipated into a view full of stars and the planet nearby.
Rann picked up a datapad and began reading through the intel data again. "So how much do we know about 'The Iron Gauntlet'?"
"That they hate the Empire and are good at it," Den answered with a smile. "What more do you need?"
"Cute," she answered as she swiped her finger across the screen. "They don't advertise themselves outside of attacking Imperial ships. They strike fast and are gone. Based on the group's movements, Alliance Intelligence could only suspect that they reside on or near Hyber." She looked up from the datapad. "Even if we can find The Iron Gauntlet before the Empire does, I don't know how we're supposed to convince them to join the Alliance."
"You didn't want this mission to be easy, did you? That'd make it boring."
She playfully slapped the datapad on his shoulder. "I left 'boring' many years ago."
"We'll see what the locals can tell us and go from there. Maybe we'll be lucky."
"You really think the Empire wouldn't bother with the place if an anti-Imperial guerrilla group was based there?"
Den shook his head. "If you don't believe we can find them, why'd you take this mission with me?"
"If you have to ask, you'll get a boot to the head."
Den looked at her, only to be met with a serious glare. "I love you too," Den said with a chuckle.
"That's what I thought," Rann returned with a satisfied nod.
The first thing the surface of Hyber revealed was a lack of substantial settlements. Den guided the Skimmer to land near the largest town he saw. Much of the planet surface appeared to be dominated by vast grasslands but significant vegetation and crops grew in and around the town. There wasn't an obvious spaceport, so they landed next to an open field at the edge of the settlement.
Even though there was no apparent Imperial presence, Rann and Den still left the Skimmer with blaster pistols on their belts. To not be prepared in terra incognita would be asking for trouble.
The first people they encountered were tending crops in the middle of a large nearby field of grain. The farmers stopped their work and stared silently at the newcomers.
Rann raised an open hand above her head. "Hello!" she called out. The farmers only continued to stare. Their facial expressions could not be determined from the distance.
Den raised an eyebrow. "What's their deal?"
"I dunno, but at least they're not hostile."
"Well, let's move along before they become hostile!"
The pair came to a well-worn dirt road that ran along a fenced-in field through which a herd of grazing nerfs lazily roamed.
Den stopped and rubbed his chin as he watched the large beasts. "Quite quaint, isn't it?"
"What does that mean?" Rann enquired as she turned back to face him.
"Nothing! I guess I haven't seen this much farmland in my travels."
Rann shook her head. "I suppose you wouldn't come across very many nerf herders in your line of work. Farmers wouldn't have the kind of money to cover a smuggler's going rate." She smiled smugly.
"Discreet couriers," he returned with a scowl.
Rann loved pushing Den's buttons. Outside of calling his former career 'smuggling', he had so few of them to play with. She took his left hand and they continued down the dirt road. While the synthskin covering his mechanical hand almost felt like real skin, there was no warmth to it. It took a while, but she was now used to the way it felt. The subtle limp imposed by her cybernetic leg was slightly exaggerated due to having to navigate the path's uneven surface.
After about a half hour of walking, Rann and Den came to the outskirts of what could only be the town proper. Very little appeared to be of a manufactured nature. The small buildings were built from various combinations of wood and stone. There were water wells scattered throughout. The streets that were paved were covered with cobblestone. The people, all human, wore clothing that was more of a utilitarian, basic design. Nothing was particularly stylish or made of more modern and expensive materials. The town almost seemed like it hadn't yet entered into the industrial age.
Not everything was totally primitive, however. Nerf-drawn carts rolled on wheels or floated on repulsorlift generators in roughly equal numbers. Low-tech combustion engine wheeled cars were the norm for faster transport, but not without the occasional landspeeder. A short distance away, Rann and Den spotted a building that rose above the rest toward the center of town topped by a small array of antennae and dishes that suggested a communications and sensor system.
Den pointed to that building. "Maybe we should start there first."
Rann nodded. "Sure. If anyone would know about the Iron Gauntlet group, someone there should." Her words were punctuated by a loud grumbling in her belly.
Den raised an eyebrow. "Maybe we should get something to eat first," he said.
"What makes you say that?" she asked, feigning ignorance.
Den playfully looked all over the place then leaned in to whisper, "I thought I heard a gastric disturbance in the Force!"
"Here's your gastric disturbance," she quickly answered as she gave him a strong jab in his gut. He responded with an exaggerated OOOF! that made her giggle. She caught something out of the corner of her eye and reflexively turned toward it, ready for a confrontation.
A few of the local villagers had stopped what they were doing and collectively stared at Rann and Den during their playful exchange.
Den cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed. "C'mon sweetie. Let's get some chow." He grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the onlookers.
The pair found a hole-in-the-wall restaurant a short distance away from the tall building and went inside. It was no more than a small kitchen area behind a wooden bar and four small tables with two chairs each. Three stools stood at the bar, one occupied by an older, balding man chatting with the cook, who was a woman with long graying hair and weathered face. The place was otherwise empty.
"I've learned that when a joint is empty, it means the food's terrible," Den jokingly whispered.
Rann only glared at him and stepped inside. He shrugged and followed her. The cook and patron both looked at the newcomers. They shared the same vague expression – hard to tell if they were suspicious or confused. Or both.
"Can I help yeh?" the cook asked in thickly-accented Basic.
"Well, we'd like to order some food," Rann answered.
"Neveh seen yeh 'round before," the old man said. "Yeh don' even soun' familieh."
Den leaned forward slightly. "We're not from around here, so I don't expect us to be familieh." He chuckled.
The patron stood up, nearly knocking his stool over in the process. "Yeh makin' fun of us?" His mouth curled downwards in contempt.
"Now, now Sam," the cook said, reaching her hand out to the old man, "Theh's no need feh yeh to get upset. These strangehs don' know what theh sayin'."
"These strangehs are a bit too strange feh me, Mila!" Sam said as he sat down hard on his stool. He glared at Den. "Where yeh from, then?"
Den pointed back out the door of the establishment. "We came from a village far over the snowy mountains."
Sam guffawed as he pointed in the same direction. "The ocean's that-a-way! Yeh wanna try again?"
Mila raised an eyebrow. "Alright, strangehs. Yeh obviously offworldahs. Who are yeh, really?"
"We're here looking for The Iron Gauntlet," Rann replied.
Suddenly, Mila gasped and Sam jumped up with balled fists. "What are yeh," the old man yelled, "filthy 'borgs?!"
Rann and Den took a step back in unison. Rann turned to Den, "How'd they-"
Den took her arm and started to step back outside. "No time Rann. I don't think we're welcome here."
Mila produced an antiquated slugthrower rifle from behind the bar and pointed it at Rann and Den. "Yeh stop right there, offworldahs. Don' give us any trouble and yeh be not harmed."
Rann reached down for her blaster, but Den stopped her. "Not now. Let's go."
As they turned to leave, they heard the characteristic percussive blast of a slugthrower shot. Mila fired at Rann's right leg, aiming to take her down non-lethally. Instead, the bullet tore a small hole in her pant leg at the thigh and ricocheted harmlessly off of the durasteel mechanisms. In an instant, Rann spun around, drew her blaster and fired at Mila, hitting her gun arm. The older woman shrieked as she dropped her rifle and grabbed her wound.
"Let's go!" Den yelled as he darted out the door. Rann quickly followed.
They could hear Sam holler out from the restaurant, "Alarm! Alarm!"
Rann and Den darted out of the restaurant before only to be completely surrounded by a circle of locals. A few of them displayed weapons. Nothing of the blaster variety, but still dangerous. All looked like they were ready to take down these newcomers who've apparently disturbed their peaceful day.
Den raised his hands. "Looks like it's time to stop." He noticed that Rann hesitated, her hand still hovering over her holstered blaster. He glared at her. "Rann!" She jerked her hands up over her head and breathed a gruff sigh of annoyance as the crowd cautiously approached them.