Star Wars: Hunter of Sith

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Having just recently seen The Force Awakens, I felt compelled to do a Star Wars fanfiction. However, this Fanfiction has nothing to do with the film, and as such does not contain spoilers. So please enjoy.

Raxus Prime, the nearly uninhabitable trash pit of the Galaxy, is said to be the place where all droids go to die. Very few live there, with its toxic rivers, fields of poisonous gas, and not to mention the droves of scrapped together droids that kill any living, and sometimes non living, thing in sight. Though that is where some choose, if you could call it that, to call home. Most, however, are bandits, that have to scavenge and kill to survive. Some are freelance and hunt alone, others group up and sometimes establish bases of operations.

One of such was a small base located on the top of a hill of droid parts. About ten to twelve people lived there, but in terms of Raxus Prime, that was a lot. None were there by choice. A few got stranded here on scavenging runs, a few crashes here, one was even sent down here in a pod, just so whoever sent him could be rid of him. Food and water were scarce, especially the clean stuff. They had to go out and make daily runs, most of which lasted the whole day, to get parts, food and water capsules, and other various things. A few were talking about making a ship with some of the parts they could find.

One of that group was a man named Garth Toron. A tall brown haired man with a rugged look and a deathly glare, he lived here most of his life, where he was dropped off by his parents when he was an adolescent boy. At that point, he had to learn how to survive, find food and water, and how to deal with the, "wildlife", if you could even call it that. He mostly stuck to himself and kept quiet, the planet limiting his social contact and quieting his childlike sense of wonder. The group found him wandering the wreckage on a scavenging run, and found him to be incredibly helpful. He was the only one with even an inkling of how to work that scrap parts on this planet, being smart enough with them to create a custom Mandalorian Set, that could filter toxins, was watertight, and included a jetpack, grappling hook, on hand flamethrower, and a black and red paint job with a black hood to top it off. Garth also built his own Protocol Droid, a custom unit he called A-X32, however he typically called him Alex, and he came with a built in arm blade and a custom programmed AI chip that included several old databases on hand to hand combat as well as several languages.

Garth was also the only one who knew how to build a ship, and this was the group's key to getting out of there. Though do to limited parts, finding a hyperdrive to get out of the system had proved to be even more difficult than they had first predicted. Most times they find one, it is broken beyond repair, and Garth cannot use it. Thus they search, seemingly endlessly, hoping to one day escape this endless nightmare of a planet.

Garth stood in his room, the walls so split and poorly made he felt that they could collapse at any moment, fixing Alex's internal processor, as it had received damage in a previous skirmish with a rogue bandit. The room contained a bed, a dresser, and a desk, at which he could work on smaller projects and tinker with small parts. Larger projects he took to the garage, such as the framework of the ship, and a recent combat drone he thought could protect the area while the group was out scavenging. As Garth closed the panel on Alex's back, and turned him on. "A-X32, online," his deep and robotic voice stated with utmost certainty. Garth stood up. "A-X32, run a check on your central processor." Alex's eyes flashed red, signaling an internal system check. "Internal processor working at full capacity," Alex stated. Garth nodded in satisfaction. "Activate internal personality matrix," Garth ordered. Alex stood still for a couple of seconds, his eyes flashing blue. After about a minute, his eyes flashed yellow. "Good day, sir," Alex said with courtesy. Garth smiled. "Glad to see that you are back, Alex."

"Of course sir. With your skill of repairing droids in the utmost of disrepair, I had faith in your ability to fix me." Garth patted him on the shoulder, his hollow metal frame clanging in response. "Go back to your normal duties, Alex. I need our supplies checked. It's been two days, and we need someone who can properly check it."

"Of course sir. I'll get right on it." Alex begins to walk out of the room. On his way out, he says, "Oh, pardon me Miss Miam!" As he says that, a slim Nautolan woman walks in. "Garth, I see you got Alex up and running again."

"Good to see you, Miam. It didn't take long. All I needed was to replace the processor."

"Well, good on ya. We need that protocol droid, he's the only thing keeping us organized!" Miam plays with her hair as she speaks. "I heard that Tyrian has some big announcement to make, and that we should all show up to the dining hall."

"Is it so important that he needs to cut into my time working on the combat drone?"

"Apparently so," Miam says with a sigh. "Let's just see what he wants. It couldn't possibly take that long."

"Knowing Tyrian, I wouldn't be surprised if it did."

Miam and Garth traveled downstairs to the dining hall, or so it was called. Really, it was just a crude arrangement of large prices of scrap metal that served as tables and chairs. And all they really "dined" was food packets, little packets full of powder that grow into bread when spread out through water. Finding even those was rare. Usually, the hall was just filled with a few people taking a snack break from work, but today, everyone was gathered up, and Tyrian, a scrawny Chiss with a knack for swindling rogue bandits of their valuables with his smooth tongue, was standing on a table above them. Tyrian was kind enough, but found it difficult to see the consequences of some of his more scandalous deals. Everyone was murmuring and chatting in confusion, until he spoke up. "Alright! Now that Garth is here, I'm ready to make my announcement!" He cleared his throat. "I have located an active and working hyperdrive!" The crowds murmurs grew. Garth was suspicious. "Yes! It is owned by a passerby group of mercenaries! If we can grab it from their ship, or maybe even the ship itself, we can get off this planet!" The people whispered in agreement. Garth spoke up. "And you are saying we just walk up to them and grab a hyperdrive right out of their ship? And even if we could accomplish it, then an innocent group of mercenaries would be stranded on this planet."

"Ah hah! Good thinking! But I've thought of that as well! You see, I was rummaging through some files of theirs on the computer, which you so graciously provided, I saw that they would be traveling to this planet to exterminate the Slayers. While they are taking out that thorn in our side, we can take the hyperdrive. But it won't do them any harm! Because I saw on their records that they will be picked up by a drop ship just after the mission, as to quickly escape from the planet should something bad suddenly come across them."

"And you are absolutely sure this will work?"

"I checked the ship they were taking. It's a large drop ship that is capable of hyperspace. There are 5 members of the team, and they should all be out on the mission, whereas we can take the ship!"

"We'll have to only take the hyperdrive. None of us know how to fly a ship, and I'll only know how to fly my ship because I personally designed the controls. Tyrian, if this fails and people get hurt, this is on you."

"Relax, it'll be fine!"

"You'd better hope so." Garth turned around and walked out of the dining hall, as whispers of strategies and tactics arose. He walked into this room and started putting on his Mandalorian armor. Just as he put the helmet on, Miam walked in. "Getting ready?"

"I need to be. If we are going to take that hyperdrive, we need the best equipment we can afford to use. Especially if something goes wrong."

"Tyrian has been wrong before…" She tugs at her hair once more and sits down. "You need to stop being so grumpy during those meetings. It gets everyone down."

"Kind of hard not to be on this gods-forsaken planet."

"We all find ways to try and be a little more cheery around people. I just hope you find yours as well." She smiles and leaves the room. Alex strolls in. "I've been informed of your plans to steal a hyperdrive sir. Would you require my assistance?"

"Well, we do need a precise laser cutter, so yes, we do. Just try not to get shot this time."

"Of course sir." Alex sits down at the desk and begins tinkering with random parts and sharpening his arm blade. And Garth began praying to whatever gods might be out there that no one might be hurt on this mission.