Hatchling Prologue
Suggested Theme:
Main Theme- Making of Cyborg by Kenji Kawai
Nat Thanisson has always hated nature. Whenever his brother took him planetside, he prayed that they would make it into a seedy cantina or a greasy diner before any dirt or disease-carrying insect could touch him. He was so happy that his childhood was largely spent in his brother's deathtrap of a ship and behind the sterile walls of the Academy.
So why in the Seven Sith Hells would he go on a week-long camping trip on some forest-forsaken planet?
Simple, it's because his friend pressured him into it.
As a child, the closest thing to companionship that he had was his brother, but his brother was sixteen years older than him and would rather talk about his sexual misadventures and fairly violent time as a pirate than talk about the programming in navicomputers or whatever the Hell normal children talk about.
So when he entered the Academy, he excitedly imagined a friend who liked all the things he liked (programming, hacking, greasy food) and hated all the things he hated (nature, animals, the New Republic), but then he came across a startling truth:
He was very terrible at making friends.
He was not shy, just introverted. He knew how to work under pressure and get the job done; for Force's sake, he had to hack into the New Republic's HoloNet account to secure clearance codes for his brother or else he was going to be arrested for treason, and that was when he was nine.
Unfortunately, after a childhood of being vigilant and waking up more times with a blaster to his face than he cared to remember, it was very challenging for him to relax with his classmates. Granted, his classmates were just as serious as him when it came to learning, but they knew each other from their childhoods spent on Imperial ships or rundown estates and could talk about those shitty times of eating nothing but ration bars or being punished by their perfection-demanding family.
He did not have that experience.
He came from an Imperial background likely nearly every one of his classmates, but he wasn't raised by old Imperials who became makeshift leaders during the hectic beginnings of the First Order. His parents died in a tragic traffic accident when they were taking him on a picnic for his first birthday. His brother, who was a privateer for the First Order at the time, became his guardian at the age of seventeen. His brother quit the dangerous life of being a privateer, which was somehow more volatile than his years as a pirate, and became a bounty hunter and the occasional smuggler.
There was always food on the table, and apparently a table was luxury to some of his classmates, and his brother wasn't an abusive, coldhearted bastard. Sure, his brother could act like a royal prick at times, but at least he didn't rely on Nat to avenge the family's honor. Hells, his brother wasn't even honorable in any sense of the word, but that was mostly because his clients and targets would use every dirty trick at their disposal.
It also didn't help that Nat's knowledge of Galactic Empire society could be summed up as fuck all before entering the Academy. So, he couldn't exactly talk about the prestigious parties his parents threw back in the heyday of the Empire. And he couldn't exactly talk about his parents because the only thing he knew about his father was that his last name was good enough to gain admission into the Academy, while his mother was a calculating woman who abandoned her first son for her career. He will always be ashamed of her, no matter what good she did for the Empire and the subsequent First Order.
It also didn't help that his fighting style was considered too roguish to his refined teachers and classmates, but at least he wasn't bullied because who wants to take on a kid that can make you swallow your own front teeth?
He spent nearly six years being friendless at the Academy. His only consolation was that his brother wasn't the type to ask if he made any new friends. In his brother's world, there were only three types of people: his baby brother, girlfriends, and marks.
But lo and behold, during the spring semester of his Intermediate Game Theory Combat class, he finally met his nearly-ideal friend. Her name was Gunn Yage; she liked all the things he liked (programming, hacking, and greasy chips) and hated all things he hated (animals and the New Republic)…minus one teensy thing.
She loved nature.
His ten-year-old-self would've considered this a deal breaker, but the sixteen-year-old wanted a companion. Also, she hacked into a TIE fighter and controlled it with her pad; she wasn't caught and she also promised to teach him her trick on one condition:
He has to come along with her and her friends to Bakura for a week-long camping trip.
He hates nature and he knows that Bakura has a bunch of forests, which means he'll have to look at trees, walk on dirt, and most likely get bitten by a thousand insects. If he was a badass like his brother, he would've refused and then cursed her out for suggesting something so inane.
But no, he's Nat Thanisson, a computer wunderkind desperate for companionship and knowledge on how to successfully hack a TIE fighter. At best, he won't get horribly maimed by nature and will gain a friend and learn one of her secrets. At worst, he'll have to call his brother for a ride and then watch him kick Gunn's and her friends' asses.
It's only a week of stupid nature, but I can endure this. And besides, what can possibly go wrong?
"Thanisson, isn't this place gorgeous?" Gunn practically purrs out like the revving of their shuttle's engine. He sees a sea of pine trees and well-trodden dirt paths; a breeze blows through the pine trees, making the green needle branches sway like a cantina dancer. He can smell the clean smoke of faraway campfires and hears the far-off roaring of a waterfall. It is nature at its finest.
And he already fucking hates it.
"You are correct." He hates nature, but it would be stupid of him if he didn't admit that this place looks picturesque and perfectly unassuming. Almost like Gunn in her civvies. She has on a tan jacket over a tight, black crop top and tight, black pants. Her boots crunches the pebbles beneath her feet; those same boots nearly broke his collarbone during their final exam for combat.
"Thanisson, do you always have to sound like a droid?" Jae Akura sniggers like he's telling a private joke. For all Nat knows, Akura probably mocks him behind his back at school. They do not share any classes together, but Nat is quite familiar with the rumors that Akura likes to have multiple girlfriends. He'd believe it; Akura has a confident air about him, even with his stupid hairstyle of having his black hair split down the middle, and has tan, bulging muscles that makes anyone turn their heads in his direction. Especially when he's wearing a tight, black shirt and equally tight, black pants.
"Storm, do you always have to sound like a dick?" Tev Rimon retorts with a lackadaisical grin on his easygoing face. Nat doesn't share any classes with him either, but he likes him. Rimon reminds him of his brother; they even share the same style of goatee.
"Crasher, Storm, you realize that the Captain will kill you both if you ruin this trip? Good, then shut it." Brodie Coburn gruffly warns them. Again, Nat doesn't share any classes with him, and he's secretly grateful for this. Coburn is a hulking giant of muscle; he's the kind of person that Nat knows would give his brother trouble and perhaps a broken jaw with one punch.
"At ease, Cannon." Gunn teasingly orders. Nat feels out of the place at the easy camaraderie between the four. But then again, they all are training to be pilots and share almost all of their classes together. Gunn is the only one out of the four them who is taking classes in command; she has aspirations of being more than just a pilot, hence her nickname.
"So….how long to the c-campsite?" Pfassk, wait to sound like a meek rent-boy! Nat could almost slap himself for his stutter. He doesn't normally stutter, but he is sandwiched between Coburn and Akura. Two people who could actually beat the crap out of him before he can get a punch in. Most of the students in Nat's classes are built like him; muscular enough to pass their combat tests but probably aren't going to see any actual combat.
"It's about a thirty minute walk, but I heard about this haunted shrine that's a little ways from the campsite. So, up for a little unscheduled detour?" Gunn flashes him a perfectly, pearly white smile. Nat does not want to go to a haunted shrine; he's not superstitious, but he's seen enough holofilms to know what happens to a bunch of idiot teenagers who go to anywhere remotely haunted. They die.
That being said, he does not want to chicken out. He knows that most of them, and perhaps even Gunn, expect him to give an excuse or logically explain why they shouldn't waste valuable daylight going to a place that might be crawling with crazed cultists.
"Sure, why not?" And with that, he's pretty certain that he just sealed his own fate with those words.
It takes them forty-five minutes to get there. And by the time they got there, Nat just wanted to keel over and die. His cheeks are burning, not from embarrassment at nearly falling flat on his face three times on the way over here, but because the sun hates him. He knows that he applied enough sunblock on the shuttle to ensure his pale skin ample protection from the evil rays of the sun. Apparently, the lotion wasn't strong enough and now his cheeks are red as bloody Darth Maul.
"Wow, Cherry Cheeks, congrats on still being alive. Really thought you were going to crack your skull open after your last fall." Nat is very grateful that his cheeks are already red because now he's feeling embarrassment. Of course Storm would be the one to pay attention to his falls.
"Thanisson isn't training to be a pilot or a trooper, so endurance is not required of him." Coburn states flatly. Nat knows that Coburn isn't being mean; he's just stating a simple fact in an unflattering way.
"Kriff, this place sure has some creepy crow statues." He thought the shrine would be like most shrines he seen where they're about the size of a 'fresher; this one is almost the size of a small cottage, but it certainly didn't look like a small cottage. It's a pyramid made of black stones; the black stones remind him of a black hole sucking the light of the universe. The only hint of color on the pyramid are the two stripes of red running down the pyramid like tears of blood.
"Actually, those are ravens. Ravens are bigger than crows and tend to travel in pairs rather in flocks. Also, crows make a cawing sound, while ravens make low, croaking sounds." Immediately, all four of them give him a very poignant look.
"Nerd." Of course, Akura is the one who says it. Nat chooses not to give him any attention and stares at the statues. There are two statues, both are life-sized and 65 centimeters tall, and they are black stone ravens flanking the sides of the pyramids like sentinels. Nat can understand why Rimon finds the statues creepy; it's the amount of detail on making the feathers, the beak, and the eyes, look so real like the statues might actually be alive.
"Aside from the lifelike statues, how is this place haunted? I don't see any bones hanging around here. Nor do I see a sign that says: 'Blood offerings only.'" Nat is sort of disappointed by this so-called haunted shrine. Sure, it looks like a set from a B-list horror holo, but there's nothing really scary about it. There's no ghostly whisperings, no old witches screaming that they're going to die, and even the statues aren't moving their stone eyes like living paintings in haunted mansions.
"Well, the brochure claimed—is that pyramidion moving?" Gunn points up at the top of the pyramid. The black stone at the top is shifting like a beast awakening after its thousand year-long slumber. Wings unfurl from the top and reveal the jutting, black beak of a raven. The raven spreads out his nearly two meter-long wings like its daring any of the humans to come closer. His black eyes are shifting, evaluating the humans before him like a killer searching a crowd for his next victim.
"I don't think crows are supposed to be that big." Akura's comment comes out as a whisper like he's almost afraid that the bird will attack him if he speaks any louder. Nat almost smiles at Akura's fear. This is why Nat doesn't considers birds to be animals. Animals are usually fur-covered, slobbery things that like to make him sneeze or scratch at his legs.
"Raven." Coburn grunts out almost quietly. He too clearly doesn't want to hold the raven's attention.
"Should we just leave, Captain?" Rimon softly asks. His honey-brown eyes are looking at Gunn for orders.
"It's just a stupid bird." Gunn remarks loudly. The raven immediately swivels his head towards and narrows his black eyes. She crouches down and picks up a black, smooth pebble with the intention of hurling it at the raven.
"Wonk-wonk!" Nat calls to the raven. Bird calling is a hobby of his and a surprisingly useful one when he used it to signal to his brother that a mark was close by. The raven immediately turns his attention to Nat.
"Wonk-wonk!" Nat steps closer this time and sees the talons of the raven, almost seven centimeters in length. They also look sharp enough to leave deep scratches on human flesh, particularly the face. Like Gunn's flawless face.
"Wonk-wonk!" The raven finally moves; he flaps his wings and takes off. For a second, Nat believes the raven is actually going to leave. He soars high for half a second and then swoops down like he is about to catch his prey, but he then decides to tumble mid-fall. But then he climbs up again, and this is when Nat decides to look away, confident that the raven is now gone.
"What is it—LOOK OUT!" Nat is damn certain that he has lost partial hearing in his right ear thanks to Akura. He sees the rest of the group quickly scramble away from the pyramid and he's at a loss to why they would do this.
And then he turns his attention back to the pyramid and sees a black mass with very sharp claws hurtling towards him.
Not the eyes, not the eyes! Nat feels his body freeze in place like some invisible chains keeping him from instinctually running away. He closes his eyes, hoping that he won't need facial reconstruction surgery.
"Wonk!" Nat believes this might be the last sound he hears before inevitably being clawed to death by a raven. He feels the claws sink into his shoulder like a love bite. It hurts but not as agonizingly as he imagined.
"Wonk!" And Nat feels like he has lost partial hearing in his left ear now. Then, he feels the claws tightening on his boney left shoulder. He finally turns his head and opens his eyes to see the raven perched on his left shoulder.
The raven's curved beak, like a hook blackened by rust, gently taps him on the nose. The raven does not peck him, nip at him, or bite him. The raven continues to tap on his nose, a bit harder than before, like he is pestering Nat for reciprocation. Nat awkwardly responds with bumping the tip of his snub nose with the curved beak of the raven.
"Wonk." The raven's call doesn't sound angry to Nat; it sounds oddly soft. Well, as soft as a raven's voice can be. The raven ceases his tapping and decides to use his beak to reach for a strand, wild blond lock. Nat inwardly curses himself for not using hair gel; he didn't even bother to bring any on this trip because he thought nature, like rain or wind, was just going to ruin his hair.
"Please, don't pull on it." Nat brokenly whispers. The raven puts the wild strand behind Nat's round ear. Then, the raven pulls back and stares into his eyes.
"D-Do you want me to pet you?" The raven does not nod like a brainless parrot, but he does soften his grip on Nat's throbbing shoulder. Nat takes that as a yes and uses his left hand to gently stroke the raven's head; the raven lets out a pleased trill.
This is kind of cute. Nat feels like a blushing schoolgirl for thinking that. Then, again, he's wearing a magenta-plaid shirt with matching pants; if his hair was longer then he might actually look like a schoolgirl.
The raven unhooks himself from Nat's shoulder and takes off. This time the raven repeats its dance from earlier but chooses to leave instead of latch onto Nat's abused shoulder again. The raven becomes a small dark star on the horizon.
"Did you just get hit on by a bird?" Rimon snorts as he asks. Nat ignores him and keeps his attention on the fading presence of the raven.
"You need to get that wound dressed." Coburn finally speaks up. Nat looks at his left shoulder and sees eight tears left behind by the raven. The scratches are welling with blood and stinging madly.
"Please, tell me one of you brought a med kit." Silence elapses. Nat sighs and hopes that the wound doesn't get infected.
"Cheer up, fresh air and sunshine should do the trick." Gunn claps him on the back with a grin on her face. The rest of the group begin to grin at one another. Nat just sighs again.
"Let's just get to the campsite." Nat trudges lifelessly from the shrine with the others following suit.
No one sees the raven makes his return to the pyramid. Nor do they see that the raven is sporting red eyes.
It is nightfall by the time they reach the campsite, and Nat, once again, is ready to keel over and die. He, at least, isn't hungry since they stopped about five times on the way over here to snack and drink (honestly, he had better beer at cantinas) like the teenagers that they are. Sadly, Akura became even more of a vocal asshole as the result from all the drinking. Thankfully, Corde and Rimon have no problem making him shut up.
Six more days till freedom! Nat nearly cries out. His shoulder is stinging like crazy; it doesn't help that Akura, on their third stop and after half a bottle of Csilla vodka, decided to dump the other half of his bottle of vodka on his wound, claiming that vodka makes great disinfectant. It was extremely satisfying watching Gunn deck the cocky bastard.
Nat turns his head to watch Gunn set up his tent. She's so kindhearted, and smart, and has a mean right hook! He hears Akura grumbling about the bruise on his chiseled jaw. Why don't you put some vodka on that, Storm? Nat is grinning.
"Yo, Nat, go get me some water from the well. I really need something to wash out the ashy taste of Mustafar whiskey." Rimon gently requests as he's pitching his tent. He throws his canteen at Nat and he fumbles it before catching it. Nat wants to groan; he really doesn't have the energy to climb up a hill, which seems like a miniature mountain to him, and haul a bucket of water back to camp. However, he is literally doing nothing but catching his breath, while everyone else, including Akura, is doing something like Coburn chopping up about a week's worth of firewood.
"Okay." He hears himself grumble like when his brother would order him to get his computer parts off the table. He hauls himself up from the grass and begins his ten-minute trek to the well. On Bakura, there are enough wells on the planet to ensure that even the dimmest tourist won't die from dehydration.
The well looks ancient with its crumbling stones and thatch roof; he wonders if this well is as old as the shrine and if the water is clean. Well, I hope this doesn't give Rimon dysentery. Nat goes to the ancient crank and begins to wind up the bucket. He immediately hates this well because every time he lets go of the crank to give his sore arms a break, the crank would immediately unwind and the bucket would lower.
"Kriff this!" Nat almost kicks the well out of frustration. But he continues his nettlesome task, until, finally after five minutes, he finally has the bucket of water and sets it on the well's ledge. He reaches by his feet to grab Rimon's canteen.
"Wonk!" Nat jumps away from the well and looks up to see a raven perched on the roof. He has red eyes.
"Wait, are you the same raven from before? Your talons do look familiar. Please, don't attack my shoulder again; I don't think I can handle another vodka shower." He is so glad that Akura, Rimon, Coburn, and even Gunn are not here to see him talking to a raven. He probably looks like some pathetic, lonely kid talking to a bird. The raven's red eyes bore into him; Nat wonders if he somehow pissed off the raven by speaking.
"O-Okay, I'll just go fill the canteen and leave." He nervously approaches the well, but then the raven unfurls his wings and opens his beak like he might let out a piercing wail. Nat hastily moves back, clearly afraid of being attacked. He feels his back hit something solid like a durasteel wall. The wall wraps its cool arms around his waist.
Nat stupidly cranes his head back to get a look at the wall. He sees red eyes, eyes as red as the raven's, boring into him. There's a white face with long black hair and black paint on the jaw and across the eyes. Nat is at a loss for words; he's desperately trying to think of something to say, perhaps even his final words.
I accept thee…
Nat stirs and winces at the bright flash of lights, the sight of red behind his closed lids. He bemoans the light hitting his fragile eyes; it takes him a minute to adjust to the light. He sees the pyramid from the shrine. He sees the ever-present raven sentinels watching him without a flicker of life in their eyes.
What the frak? Nat almost curses aloud when he finally focuses on his own body. He sees gray dust coating his skin like some kind of ritualistic paint. There are curves and swirls on his skin from the paint that make a silhouette of a demonic raven. The only place that the ashy paint doesn't cover is his groin, which he desperately wishes he had something other than his hands to cover, and his feet.
"Oh." Nat rasps out in surprise; his throat feels raw and coppery. His surprise comes from what he finds wrapped around his left ankle: a bracelet. It is a silver chain that wraps around his thin ankle and connects to his index and middle toes. It is inlaid with teardrops of rubies and diamonds, or at least with phony gemstones that look like those precious jewels, and it ends with a particularly fat ruby on top of his toes.
"How the pfassk did I get all the way over here?" He coughs and swears to himself that he won't speak aloud anymore. Hells, it feels like I spent a whole night practicing speeches for Public Speaking again! He hated that class but it was required for those looking to command their own ship someday; the only good that came from the class made him realize that he doesn't want to be a General if it meant he had to make bi-weekly speeches.
Aside from the soreness of his throat, his body feels well-rested and limber. He gets up from the steps of the pyramid and heads back to camp. On his way there, he has two realizations. The first is that he has never been more grateful to the universe for not coming across anyone on his nearly fifty-minute trek. The second is that he's pretty certain he's just been cruelly pranked.
Akura is the prime suspect that comes to mind. After all, Akura has been an ass to him since the trip started and he seems like the type to do stupid pranks. However, he highly doubts someone as "manly" as Akura would go as far as to strip a guy of his clothes and paint him with what looks like firewood ash. Neither Rimon nor Coburn seem the type to do this. Gunn could be part of this prank; she likes pranks, as evident by her hijacking a TIE fighter, and she would be the only one in the group to have that kind of jewelry.
But why would she do this? Gunn has hurt him before but that was for combat class, and she even apologized to him after class. She's not naturally mean-spirited, unless he counted the time she punched some upperclassmen named Umano in the face for no apparent reason, and it's not like he had a fight with her to warrant this sort of mischief.
I'll get my answer when I reach camp. It takes him ten more minutes to reach camp. When he gets there, he sees that all of the tents are gone. He also sees bottles of beer and vodka strewn about like dirty laundry and he sees Coburn's hill of chopped firewood for the fire pit. He sees his brown bag with his comlink and clothes in the fire pit. Finally, he sees red.
THOSE DICKS! Nat has to cover his mouth to prevent himself from screaming. He rushes over to the fire pit and pulls out his bag; he rummages through the front pocket and finds his comlink. He immediately calls up his brother.
"You owe me fifty credits." Cade's husky voice cheerlessly greets him. Before going on the camping trip, he and his brother made a bet. Cade bet that he wouldn't last the week and his so-called "friends" would abandon him, and he was absolutely right.
"Shut it, swashbuckler, and get me off this Force-forsaken hellhole!" Nat practically growls into his comlink, almost regretting exhausting his already sore throat. He literally hears his older brother's smug smile on the other end.
"Give me about two hours, surely, it wouldn't kill you to survive another two hours in the wilderness, would it, Ossus?" Nat bristles at his ill-earned nickname. He decides to shut his comlink off without saying another word in protest. He puts his comlink back in his bag and decides to head to the nearby well.
Frak nature, frak Cade, frak Akura, frak Rimon, frak Coburn, and frak Gunn! Nat colorfully curses out in his mind while making his way to the well. When he reaches the well, he feels a sense of déjà vu come over him. He knows he was here before; he remembers coming here to fill up Rimon's canteen. He remembers how much his arms ached from trying to haul up the bucket.
Did something else happen? Something must've happened because I don't remember walking all the way back to the shrine. How long was I out? He takes out his comlink and checks for today's date. His eyes widen in surprise when he sees that today's date is actually one of three days later.
What happened to me? Did someone drug my beer or something? Maybe, after putting those stupid scribbles on me, they thought I died, panicked, and dumped my body on the shrine. That seems like something someone as stupid as Akura would do! Nat makes up his mind to try and forget about all this. He believes that in a couple of years he'll look back and shake his head at how stupidly trusting he was. Until then, he washes off the ash-paint and takes off the anklet. He almost tosses the anklet into the well out of childish spite.
You need to keep this. Nat jumps away from the well and looks around for the source of the voice. He sees nothing but grass and tall pines. He decides to put the anklet in his bag.
It's probably going to be the nicest piece of jewelry I'll ever get to keep. Nat rationalizes. After he puts on some clean underwear and his clothes, he heads back to the camp. He doesn't even look up to see a raven sporting red eyes hovering over him.
I'll come back for thee.
Author's Comments- Oh, Thanisson, even in this life ravens aren't good for you. I was tempted to name him Jojen after the actor's Game of Thrones character, but I decided against it because it seemed to on the nose. Instead, Nat Thanisson comes from Nat Skywalker the brother of Kol Skywalker who is the father of Cade Skywalker. Speaking of Cade, this Cade in the story is actually Cade Skywalker but he is actually known as Cade Corde and he's Thanisson's older half-brother and he's no way related to the Skywalker lineage in this story and in my headcanon.
Also, Darth Nihl is Nihl Ren in this story and in my headcanon. I figured recycling and then tweaking characters from the debunked Expanded Universe would be much simpler than generating my own OCs. However, I would like to formerly apologize to those who are strict adherents to the Expanded Universe, particularly of Star Wars: Legacy, because I'm going to take those characters and mostly fuck them up from your certain point of view.
Also, here's a link to Thanisson's foot jewelry: .