Chapter 4 – Career Day
Location: Coruscant, the Imperial City, Level 1256
Time: 4 Years Before the Battle of Yavin, 1 Month After the Attack on the Imperial Checkpoint
It got easier. Assuring the successful exodus of the undercity's denizens, that is, sheltering them to safety by engaging the Imperials in daring raids. He had it down to a science now, and he was surprised the Imps hadn't caught on to the true reason behind his attacks. To them, it was a lone Givin randomly attacking their checkpoints on Level 1256, with alleged ties to the Rebel Alliance, and that was the way Dex liked it. Since helping his Togruta friend reach safety on the surface, Dex had repeated the same rescue missions for other aliens and succeeded five times. It was, as he decided, his calling, his reason for existing in this galaxy.
However, it couldn't be gun battles and vigilantism all the time, not even he had the energy for that. Today was Dex's off day, and he knew just what to do with it. He'd sold some military grade tech from some of the stormtroopers he'd blasted, and had a decent stack of credits to his name. Most of it he would donate to the more unfortunate denizens of these parts, but he felt he had earned some well deserved R&R, and was headed to one of the many bar districts on Level 1256.
As Dex approached the district, which was situated on a massive steel balcony three stories above the street, the smell of stale swill filled his nostrils. The undercity got the worst of a lot of the things the galaxy had to offer, and alcohol was no different, only the nastiest drinks made their way this deep into the planet's crust, and for the record, Dex was fine with it. His species was practically built to handle the extremities, exposure to the vacuum of space among other things. His tolerance to alcohol and its bitter, sometimes toxic qualities, meant his standards weren't as high as a human's.
After climbing the creaky, dingy metal stairs to the bar district, Dex made his way to the closest cantina, The Watering Hole, its name obnoxiously bright on the neon sign above the door. Someone had not so cleverly written "Hell" in front of "Hole" on the sign, an anonymous, thankless comedian no doubt. Before he entered, however, Dex couldn't help but notice something. Some of the patrons were outside, conversing with one another, all with drinks in hand. In fact, everyone on this floor either had a drink, or were on their way to or from an establishment, everyone except one. A Devaronian stood alone, leaning up against the metal railing that overlooked the street below. This red skinned being, with horns resembling a devil, was looking intently at Dex, only to look away when Dex noticed.
It may have been Dex's off day, but he was never truly able to let his guard down, especially when he noticed the piece in the Devaronian's jacket, a small holdout blaster pistol, very illegal. Dex pretended he didn't notice the lone gunman and entered The Watering Hole. A thick cloud of hookah smoke blasted him in the face as he entered the small establishment, which was almost completely jam packed with aliens from a dozen different worlds. He made his way to the main bar area, politely squeezing past the many beings who filled the bar floor area.
"Whatcha havin'?" the Duros bartender asked.
"Surprise me." Dex said as he laid the appropriate amount of credits down.
As the bartender got to work on his own choice of booze, Dex took a look around the bar to see if there were any other shady characters. Well, perhaps that wasn't the proper term, considering this place was full of the unsavory type. He was on the lookout for any potential threats, like the guy out front, guys with staring problems and pistols bigger than their brains. He didn't see any, and that was the way he liked it.
"Umbaran Shadow Whiskey." the Duros said as he placed a cup of a dark liquid in front of Dex.
"Good choice, thanks mate." Dex said as he downed the drink in one quick motion, the bartender's eyes widening in surprise,"What's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost." Dex said with a grin.
With that, the shocked Duros moved on to the next customer, leaving the satisfied Givin alone to continue enjoying his day off. As the liquor traveled down his throat, he could feel himself beginning to become one with the seediness of his surroundings, even if this type of blending in only took place in his head, it couldn't hurt. Well, maybe a little.
Before Dex could ask for a second round, he couldn't help but notice three more patrons all enter at the same time, three tall humans who weren't subtle in the slightest as they looked all around the bar and focused their attention on Dex. Like the Devaronian outside, they quickly looked away once he noticed, but now they outnumbered him, they didn't have to play it safe anymore. What could they possibly want with him? They weren't dressed like the typical slum dwellers, even the humans who resided here looked like vagrants, not like these guys. Rather, they looked like people who were trying too hard to look homeless without actually being homeless. They were still groomed, their faces clear of any dirt and debris. Outsiders, and they were interested in Dex.
The three of them split up, one sat at the bar perpendicular to Dex, one stood by the entrance, and the third took a seat at an empty table a few feet behind Dex. Covering as much ground as possible, smart, the best way to set up an ambush or prevent one's escape. He had to assume these goons were armed and that they probably weren't against the idea of collateral damage, of which there'd be a lot of if a firefight was to erupt in the middle of a busy bar.
Dex sat for a few moments, waiting for one of the men to make the first move, but none of them did anything other than try to disguise the fact that they were watching him very closely. He knew if he was quick, he could take out one of them before the others could react, but he wasn't confident he could take out the others so quickly. Besides, just because they were keeping an eye on him didn't mean they deserved dirt naps, not yet at least.
Dex turned and looked at the goon situated at the table behind him. This one, a young human with short blond hair and green eyes, focused his gaze on a stain on the table, trying to pick away at it in a pathetic attempt to fool Dex of the man's true intentions.
"You got a problem, short stuff?" Dex asked bluntly.
"Huh?" the man said in shock.
"You and your two friends are gonna get in trouble if you keep throwing those looks this way." the Givin replied as he stood up.
"You're calling it a night already?" the bartender asked.
"Yeah, it's getting a bit crowded..." Dex said, "Go ahead and serve these guys, gives 'em something to do other than stare all the goddamn time."
With that, Dex started for the front entrance, sliding his way past the numerous patrons, expecting blaster shots to go off at any moment, but they never did. Now the three humans were making no effort to hide their surveillance, giving blank glares to Dex as he made his hasty retreat from the establishment. The human guarding the door took a step back, allowing the Givin to pass by in peace.
"Much appreciated." Dex said as he looked at the human from head to toe, then walked outside.
It was beginning to rain again, the putrid water that smelled of the body odor of a thousand beings pelted Dex as he crossed the threshold of the doorway. His eyes immediately locked onto the Devaronian, who was still standing near the railing, but was now facing Dex directly, grinning and staring directly at him. Before Dex could speak up, he noticed that on the rooftops of numerous buildings nearby, more similarly dressed goons stood motionless and glared in Dex's direction. There were six that he could see, but for all he knew, there were even more of them lurking nearby.
The worst part, the upper deck of this bar district was now completely devoid of anyone else other than Dex and the Devaronian, as if the devilish thug had cleared them out just for this moment.
"What is this?" Dex asked.
The Devaronian didn't acknowledge Dex's question, replying only with a motion of his hand, signaling the Givin to keep walking. He knew he was vastly outnumbered, and had little choice other than to obey the guy's silent demand. Dex was able to keep his heart rate as normal as possible, and found the it challenging to resist the urge to draw his blaster, but knew that the odds weren't in his favor, he had to count on the thought of at least one of those rooftop goons being a good enough shot to nail him right between the eyes.
Reaching the ground level, Dex knew he only had one advantage, he knew these streets, this was his jungle. Like the Imps, these weirdos might have the numbers and training, but this wasn't their element, and that had to count for something. He picked up the pace, racing through the alleys, twists and turns seemingly at random, plotting out his course as he went, but was stunned, first figuratively as another goon stepped out in front of him, and then second, literally, as the man fired a shot at Dex, striking him in the chest, a non-lethal but very intense shot that dropped Dex to the cold, soaking ground.
Crashing to the ground was the least painful part of the ordeal. This stun shot was of a much more potent output, sending horrible electrical shocks radiating through Dex's limbs, stiffening them to the point of paralysis. He felt as though all the air had been sucked from his lungs, ironic considering his species' ability to resist even the vacuum of space, but he didn't have time to appreciate the irony. He only had it in him to lie still and groan in pain as he looked up at his assailant, who was soon joined by numerous others just like him.
"Man, how has he not been caught already?" one of the goons asked.
"Maybe coming here after him was a waste of time," the shooter added, "I mean look at him."
With each passing second, Dex was able to slowly regain control of his body, though fighting against his own stiffened body was both difficult and excruciating. As he tried to raise his hand up in defense, the Devaronian from earlier stepped into view, looking down at Dex, with the look he could only compare to the same one a spice spider would have after catching its prey.
"I promise you it was worth the trip," the Devaronian said without taking his eyes off Dex, "He's exactly what we need. Can you hear me? Don't tell me Bevel's stun shot fried your ears too."
"My hearing's fine, psycho, I just really wanna know what the hell's going on." Dex said as he tried his best to get up.
"You might wanna stay sitting for a moment." Bevel cautioned.
"You know who we are?" one of the goons asked.
"If I had to guess... I'd say you're bounty hunters, hired by the Empire to take me out." Dex guessed.
"If we were with the Empire, you'd already be dead." one of the thugs said.
"I don't get it." Dex admitted.
"I thought Givins were supposed to be smart." Bevel said.
"This one's full of surprises, isn't he?" the Devaronian asked, "Name's Sergeant Russcalai Bilkomel, we're with the Rebel Alliance."
"Today's your lucky day, Ghost, you've got a new job." one of the goons said with a smile.
"You come work for us, get away from this godforsaken shithole." Bevel added.
"I don't know if you noticed, but my job has been to do exactly that, but for other people, not myself." Dex said.
"Not anymore, friend." Russ said, "You see, we heard about how you were quick to try and frame your actions to make them look like raids from the Alliance. I get that, hell, it's what I would do if I were in your position. Thing is, we don't like taking credit for other people's work."
"So instead of giving me a cease and desist, so to speak..." Dex began, "You corner me in an alley, shoot me with a stungun and threaten me. Message received, sorry!"
"Are you going to let us explain ourselves?" one of the Rebels asked.
"Your activities have already caught the Empire's eye..." Russ began "They know your name, what you look like, and now they're trying to zero in on your strategy and location. If we were able to track you down, they won't be far behind. You don't have to come with us, but it'd be in both of our best interests."
"We took a big risk, coming here to the Imperial Capital, so you better feel special." a Rebel added.
"Yeah, I feel real honored," Dex said, "Getting ambushed in an alley by a bunch of weirdos really makes you feel that way."
"We wanted to show you that you're not invincible like you think you are." Bevel said.
"All it takes is one screwup, one little slip in your plan, and you're dead..." Russ said, "But it doesn't have to be that way. Come with us, make a difference in the bigger picture."
"What about the people I'll be leaving behind?" Dex asked.
"They've been inspired by your initiative." Russ said, "We've been looking into other vigilantes who've popped up since your little crusade. I think Coruscant will have plenty of heroes to go around in your absence. The Ghost is destined for something greater than just the streets of the Coruscant underworld, this is your chance to get away from it all, really make a difference for people who have lost all hope."
It was a lot to take in. Dex knew what his parents would have wanted him to do, they knew he was destined for something like this, but Coruscant was all he knew. It wasn't much of a home, but it was his whole world, everything else seemed so out of reach, it was unfathomable to him. He liked to think that if given the chance, he would jump at the opportunity to leave this planet and its rotten underworld, but he did have that chance, he could have always snuck by alongside the other escapees, gotten offworld alongside them, but he never did. Something compelled him to stay behind, and he wasn't sure why. Perhaps the thought of something else out there frightened him, maybe it was easier to cope with your surroundings if there was no way out. Was it wrong?
"What would you have me do in your rebellion?" Dex asked.
"Once you've proven that you can handle yourself in combat, after a few missions, you could continue your work, escorting people to safety, away from the Empire." Russ said.
"I know what I'd choose." Bevel said.
"It's not your decision though," Russ admitted, "You don't have to come with us, Dex, but this is a one time offer, no take backs. If you decide not to come with us, you will never be able to contact the Rebel Alliance again, and we will not come to your aid when the Imperials capture you, which they will."
"We'll be at Rat's Tavern, you know where it is," one of the goons said, "if you try anything funny, it won't be the Empire that takes you out."
"You have twelve hours, then we leave for good." Russ said as he and the Rebels walked off.
Dex sat on the dull, cobblestone road, still being doused by the light rain, staring blankly ahead at an abandoned mechanic's garage, pondering the choice he'd been given. Ten seconds felt like an eternity, his whole world had changed in a matter of minutes, it seemed everything that had happened had led to this exact moment for a reason. He knew it was an important choice. He knew what the right thing to do was, but it didn't make it any easier. He looked over at the Rebels, who were still walking away down the alley, not speaking a word to each other.
"Hey!" Dex shouted as he stood up.
The Rebels all stopped and turned around to face the Givin. Russ, the fiendish looking Devaronian, could hardly hide his grin, knowing what was coming.
"I'm in." Dex said with a grin of his own, sealing his fate.