Just a few things first: This story began May 2008 and borrows from video-games and movies. It is set during the Clone Wars (and began before I'd even heard of the cartoon). Original characters thus far include: Sarin Silvern - picture Zooey Deschanel, and Sage - picture a rugged Christian Bale.
This is a fraction of a style that tickles my fancy - trashy, sci-fi, action, fantasy, drama, and humour, all in an eclectic and no doubt lopsided mix. Thus I write informally, for enjoyment, with a grain of salt, for amusement, and not for candid, straight-backed crtiticism. And I'm done with comments for a long time. I hate comments, actually. Go figure.
1. Crashing Geonosis
Sarin couldn't remember landing her starspeeder on Geonosis, but she must have crashed pretty hard for the swarm of natives she attracted. Perhaps it had been the asteroid field, which she had cleared of a few small rocks on her way down, hampering her engines from a smoother landing. Denting a few asteroids could do that. The natives did swarm her and lug her out of the wreckage, for which she was at first grateful. Until they whacked her upside the head and she dropped her saber into the ruined ship, her consciousness floating with it. She recalled being dragged into some facility, through darkened corridors and some whirring machine rooms and finally deposited into a cell. By that time her head had stopped spinning and had decided to abandon all gravitational pull. She heaved and threw up all over one of the bugs before they'd activated a force cage. Some time must have passed in cleaning the thing up, because when Sarin next woke up a couple bugs were trying to communicate.
The force cage flickered, charring her boots. The three insectoid creatures before her continued their interrogation, but their clicking was unintelligible to their prisoner. In frustration, one of the creatures began to jam the controls of the cage with its claws. Clumsy, random jabs translated to precise and purposeful patterns. Sarin worried a moment the creature would accidentally kill her by imploding the cage, but the next moment a jolt of electricity coursed through her body and she wilted, vision edged with buzzing darkness. The bugs seemed to be arguing from far away. Another current ripped through her, wrenching a scream.
Click, clickety click… The clicks were fading. Sarin's throat had gone hoarse. The duracrete floor felt remarkably cool. She drifted.
When Sarin came to again, she was no longer in a force cage. The three bugs were gone, and she was sprawled on the steel floor of a vast chamber. Her boots, to her relief, had not been removed, and she was still in full, albeit unrecognizably muddy and tattered, Jedi garb. The boots contained the last trick she couldn't hide up a sleeve. Her footsteps echoed as she rose and approached a door. The room wavered into focus. Her arms ached dully when she tugged at the disabled motion sensor. Locked.
Click, click…
Sarin jumped. A bug was approaching her. This one had big spidery wings. Backing away slowly, Sarin was surprised to hear it speak what resembled Basic, interwoven with various clicks.
"We regret your click bad reception, we thought click you a Republic spy." The bug's voice was hoarse but intelligible. Dry. "We see click now your sign on the blaster we took – you are representative of Bakta, click yes?"
Thinking fast, Sarin wouldn't look a gift cannok in the mouth. She didn't fancy her face bitten off, anyway. "Baktoid weapons automata sent me here…" she said smoothly, playing up her confusion, "I don't understand why you hurt me…" she fluttered her eyelashes innocently for effect, though perhaps the gesture was lost on the bug.
"Your ship was not click registered with Geonosian-click-docking station eight."
"My company presumed you would recognize your supplier," Sarin sniffed, adopting a role. The bug's suspicions had been too true for comfort. "They sent me here to inspect your facilities for any droid malfunction. Upon landing I was ambushed and imprisoned and interrogated. I can assure you the company will be hearing of this." Perhaps her voice had been rising too dramatically. This time the bug was wilting before her and not the opposite. It seemed what passed for hypersensitive ears on the bug's head could not stand higher frequencies. Sarin smiled maliciously.
"We prepare to take full liability," conceded the bug, his accent deepening in fright. "Our client will arrive soon for important gathering of politics and business – you speak to him about expenses then. He meet with Archduke Poggle first. You ready to tour factory sublevels now? I am Eorlax, the translator to Basic. You are?"
"Sarin," she said without thinking, then added, "call me Bronze."
The bug's clicky tongue wouldn't wrap around the name Sarin, anyway. If it possessed a tongue. Sarin didn't care to find out.
"Slernini... Bronze. I gave you kolto while you slept. Take it with our apologies," Eorlax offered Sarin a small, worn-leather shoulder bag, brimming with carefully wrapped packs of kolto. "We begin now, then we can tour cantina for lunch, yes? And meet with our client if he have time."
A Geonosian with a sense of humor? The gods forefend. Sarin injected some kolto, the healing juice invigorating her weary muscles, and followed the bug, lofty that, despite the loss of her starship, she'd acquire some valuable intelligence on the CIS. Thoughts of this mysterious client could wait until she'd sufficient reason not to run out on him. Getting off the planet seemed a good idea after the welcome she'd received, but this opportunity was too good to pass up. Intel on the CIS was hard to come by. Then again, lately, so was a cup of caffa.
The factory was immense. The walkways zoomed them past equally furious assembly lines which seemed to vomit droids. There were mining droids, assembly droids, battle droids… the latter far outnumbered any other. The scale of the order indicated some vast wealth behind the client – Sarin's suspicions of a CIS-funded droid army were evidently confirmed, and she didn't fancy meeting with any CIS operative masquerading as a client to prove her theories.
They were riding through a quieter portion of the factory, a sprawling underground complex Sarin recognized as a power base, Eorlax clicking away about the bugs' brilliance in mechanics and repairs in malfunctioning circuitry.
"So there have been no significant disturbances that would cause the droids to react violently? No triggering any protocols?" Sarin fished, in her best faux-inspector voice.
"No, no problems technically… though we did have a thief try to sneak in… foolish human claimed to be a Jedi, so we stop him from doing real damage, lock him up, ask him some questions," Eorlax clicked on oblivious to Sarin's glare, "He say nothing, so we now wait for client to dispose of him how he wants. Our client gets priority for click spies or thieves."
"I see… so my welcome was not unique. I can see why your tourism is thriving," Sarin commented. "Very well, most things seem to be in order, though I think I could have Baktoid appropriate you some more funds for security. I'll need to see where this thief snuck in, though."
Eorlax perked up at the mention of funds. "Good, good. Now we go lunch in cantina, then I take you to question thief and then the client if he is not busy."
Sarin had never had a bug hit on her before, but she was damned sure Eorlax was cutting it close. After a third cup of caffa ("I don't drink anything stronger on business trips, giggle") and a portion of the muck the factory droids served the few Geonosian maintenance workers, Sarin was fed up with wheedling the bug. With very little coercion, Sarin persuaded Eorlax to let her speak with their prisoner.
"I do need to find out how he got in. A security breach is a serious concern; my company may compensate any presumed losses." Mention of funds never failed to intrigue anyone. Eorlax didn't disappoint. Another high-speed walkway and three factory terminals later, they were at the entrance to what looked suspiciously like a dungeon.