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Starkiller
He, Ahsoka, and Rex talk in the cockpit of the Shadow. Starkiller stands, leaning against the wall, watching his sitting companions. Ahsoka has her arms crossed, her eyes narrowed and refusing to meet Starkiller's.
"That went well, sir," Rex says.
"If by 'well', you mean a body in the streets!" Ahsoka says. "Then yes, that went very well."
Starkiller sighs. "It was an accident." His companions both raise eyebrows. He continues, "He had a gun, I just meant to knock him down. I didn't mean to throw him through the window."
Rex nods. Ahsoka softens, her eyes finally meet his. He can see sympathy and regret reflected back at him. He clears his throat and looks away.
"Though not intended, it may work in our favor, sir," Rex says.
"How so?" Ahsoka says.
"The public nature of it," Rex says, "is very powerful. The people know what we've done-"
"Murdered a man?" Ahsoka cuts him off.
Rex sits forward in his chair. "We removed a monster. Do you know what that man enjoyed?" Ahsoka gulps, but doesn't say anything. "It turns out, he had a taste for children, among other things. The people are glad, and the rest of his associates are scared. Some have vanished, gone to ground."
"We've got them on the run?" Starkiller says.
"It appears so, sir."
Ahsoka sighs. "What's our next move then?"
They all go silent, each no doubt pondering options.
"There are a lot of targets," Rex says. "Hard to choose a top priority."
Ahsoka's eyes perk up as she smiles. "Listen to the people," she says. "Let them pick our next target."
Starkiller grins, Ahsoka smirks at him.
That's brilliant.
Rex glances at the holo display of the blockade in orbit.
"We'll get there," Starkiller says. "One day at a time."
Ahsoka and Rex both nod.
"If there's nothing else," Starkiller says. "We should think about dinner." As if on queue, Ahsoka's stomach growls. "Ah, I see you approve."
"Shut up!" she says, cheeks flushed, but smiling wide.
(******)
Ahsoka
She lays awake in her sleeping quarters. The bed is comfy, but it offers her no comfort. The events of the day play in her mind over and over. They could have died- they nearly did die. And that man, monster though he was, dead, thrown from a building. The jedi would not look kindly on these actions, and what's worse; it feels right. This universe is so different from the one she knows. The lines are blurred, the jedi code she'd lived by seems inadequate to handle this problem; gangsters, slavers, mercenaries, bounty hunters, tyrants, the list goes on and on.
The jedi were never meant to be soldiers, she reminds herself. Just peacekeepers.
What they're doing now, liberating a people from its 'lawful' power; it would be far outside the jedi's purview, and probably forbidden. That's why these outer rim planets had been allowed to operate this way even in the prime of the Republic, even though it should have been the jedi's moral obligation to help.
She tosses and turns, trying to breathe easy, but her questions of morality and the code aren't what's truly keeping her awake. No, it's loss. All her friends, everyone she'd ever known, her whole universe is gone. There is nothing left now, but Rex. How can it be that they are the last remnants? Surely there are more somewhere out there.
There must be.
She would simply have to find them. But first she must help Starkiller free this planet.
Starkiller. . .
What an enigmatic man he is.
He appears to be at war with himself at nearly all times, always carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. But there are times when he seems so sure of himself and what he's doing. Times when he seems peaceful, like he's forgotten the pain of his past. She wishes he could be that way more often, and perhaps someday he will be.
She rolls over again, adjusts her pillow. She groans and adjusts it again. She feels hot and throws the covers off. Then feels cold and pulls them back up. She rolls onto her side and curls up. She rolls onto her back and stretches out. Her mind refuses to quiet down. She growls and throws the covers off as she sits up, feeling stiff and slow.
"Ugh."
She gets out of bed and leaves her quarters, heading down the corridor to the galley. The hatch opens in front of her with a whoosh. She steps through the threshold to find that the galley is already occupied.
"You're up late," Starkiller says from the other side of the counter that separates the cooking area and the eating area.
"Couldn't sleep," she says.
"A lot of that going around."
He motions to the counter, and she sits down.
"What can I get you?" he says.
"Warm milk?"
He nods and starts digging in the fridge. He emerges with a glass bottle of milk, sets it on the counter, then ducks down for a pan. He puts the pan on the stove, pours the milk into it, then puts the milk away. He lights the burner and stirs the milk with a whisk, then grabs out two mugs. She feels like she should say something, but can't think of anything.
"You did good work today," he says.
"Thank you," she says.
He stirs the milk some more, then turns back to her. "I mean it. If not for you, I'd either be dead or-" he cuts himself off and goes back to stirring.
She remembers stopping him from killing the bounty hunter.
"It was nothing," she says.
"Not to me," he says. He turns back around, his eyes grab hold of hers and won't let go. "Thank you."
She tries to will her cheeks not flush, but fails. She shrugs nervously.
"You're welcome," she says.
He nods and goes back to the milk. She releases a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, and shakes her head at herself. She shouldn't let herself get this tired.
Fatigue does strange things to me, she thinks.
Long moments pass in silence, then he pours the finally warm milk into the mugs. He grabs a jar of something from the fridge and unscrews the lid, then spoons some into his mug. It's an amber colored syrup of some kind.
"You want some?" he says.
"What is it?" she says.
"I don't know," he says. "But it tastes good."
She nods a yes, and he scoops some into her mug, then hands it to her with the spoon still in, letting her stir it the rest of the way herself.
He takes a sip. "Do you know how hard it is to get milk here?"
She shakes her head no. Hadn't thought of that.
"Ask Rex," he says. "He'll tell you all about how hard it was."
She laughs and finishes stirring her milk, placing the spoon aside and raising the mug to her lips. She takes a small sip. Warm, sweet, and a tad salty. He was right, it is good. She takes a good swallow and savors the warmth as it travels down her throat and through her chest. She smiles and lets out a satisfied sigh.
"Good?" he says.
She nods a yes. "Very."
He nods and takes a few more sips. He leans against the oven, holding the mug in his right hand, his face as unreadable as ever. The silence stretches on though it's not so awkward as before. His presence is comforting in a way, and not feeling obligated to fill an imaginary void with needless chatter is relaxing and pleasant.
He breathes easily, looking relaxed as well.
She finishes off her mug, and puts it down on the counter.
"Thanks," she says.
He nods with a small smile. How she wishes she could read his face. He takes her dish, places it in the sink with his own.
"Better get to bed," he says. "Big day tomorrow."
"Right," she says. "Finding our next target. One step closer to freeing Tatooine."
He nods, then rounds the counter heading for the door. "And one step closer to getting you back to the jedi."
She watches him exit the galley, then sighs. She'd almost forgotten about returning to the order to resume her training. Why does the thought disturb her now?
Before she was frozen in carbonite, she had always intended to return to the jedi someday, somehow complete her training. She was traveling when it happened. Someone screamed, she rushed to provide aid. Suddenly she was surrounded. The last thing she remembers is getting hit by multiple stunblasts. It's ironic, getting captured and frozen in carbonite saved her life from Order 66.
She pushes up from the counter and makes her way back to her quarters. She drags herself over to the bed and drops onto it. Her conversation with Starkiller replays in her mind, and she falls asleep with images of a certain former sith lord running through her mind.
(******)
Starkiller
He waits in an alley between two tall buildings. Finding their next target had been easy. The bar owner Marta had told Rex all they needed to know; a rodian by the name of Laadu. He's behind the protection rackets, forcing everyone to pay him or else. If they can't pay, he's a big fan of finding other means of payment— for him and his posse. The people hate them. Removing them would go a long way for Starkiller and his friends. Laadu has been hiding out since Toong fell to his death; camping out in a club with all his muscle. He thinks no one will touch him in his club, thinks he's safe.
He's wrong.
Wearing a dark cloak over his armor, Starkiller raises his hood to hide his face. People of all different lifeforms wait in a large crowd outside the club, all hoping to get in. Two bouncers watch the door, one a wookie, the other a gamorrean.
Loud music pounds in Starkiller's ears and he exits the alley. He strides past the crowd, ignoring their dirty looks. He knows the bouncers will make him reveal his face. He knows what they'll do once they see him. He walks right up to the wookie. It crosses its arms and gives an order in its indescribable language. Starkiller knows it wants him to drop his hood. He waits. The gamorrean on the other side of the entrance is getting curious. It hobbles over and squeals a few orders at Starkiller.
He grins and drops his hood. The wookie starts to raise a blaster-
Starkiller blasts him with a burst of energy, sending him flying into the wall. He drops off the wall and lands in a pile of dust. The crowd lets out a collective gasp. Starkiller is on the gamorrean before it has a chance to react, kicking it in the face, then wrapping his arms around its neck to choke it unconscious. The wookie starts to rise and Starkiller throws the gamorrean right at it. It slams into the wookie like a missile, knocking him out. The crowd stands, stunned.
Starkiller turns around to face them. "Go home."
Seconds pass, then people start hurrying away. Starkiller puts his hood back up and marches through the entrance. The music grows louder, blocking out all other sound. The darkness is thick, only broken by quick flashes, strobes, and sweeping laser lights. Bodies line each wall of the corridor; people smoking or doing drugs, making out; all drinking. He passes them by, reaching the edge of the corridor. The club opens up before him to a massive dancefloor with multiple layers. On the left and the right are stairs leading to higher levels.
The music pounds hard and the lights sweep faster. No one notices him as he makes his way to the right, up the stairs. The second level has has another dancefloor in the center with a tall stage where different species of girls dance, and on the left of the platform is a bar. He continues on up the stairs until he reaches the third level. There's a small dancefloor just off the stairs, then a fair sized sitting area with long couches in perfect view of the dancing girls just slightly below.
Beyond them, on the far side of the room is a series of curved booths with tables in the middle of them and a pole in the center of each table for more up close and personal viewing. He moves through the dancefloor, scanning for Laadu, not finding him. He reaches the balcony and looks down, scanning the lower levels. A half naked, blue Twi'lek girl leans back against her pole, looking up at Starkiller. She gives him a wink and sways to the tempo of the song.
"This is not a sightseeing mission!" Ahsoka says through the comm in his ear.
He nearly flinches at the sound of her voice and scowls.
"I was scanning the lower levels," he grumbles.
"Uh-huh," Her voice is dripping with sarcasm. "Sure you were."
His face flushes and anger starts boiling in him. He's not used to this kind of place, and he's not used to being teased. He's starting to regret using the Shadow to hack into the security cameras, so Ahsoka and Rex could track his progress. He's sure Laadu is not on the lower levels. He takes a calming breath and turns toward the more private area. A few of the booths are occupied by groups, each with a dancer. An then there's Laadu, the only rodian in the room, right in the center booth where he can see both the dancers below and the two dancers he has sharing his table.
Sitting beside him is three armored humans with shoulder holsters. The back wall is lined with armored people holding assault rifles.
"It's gonna be messy," Ahsoka says.
Starkiller smirks and goes straight for the table. Halfway across in the dancefloor, a guard emerges from the dancing crowd and steps in front of him, putting his hand on Starkiller's chest.
"Private party," he says.
Starkiller grabs his arm and twists, wrenching it up high, then slams his knee into the guard's exposed ribs. Gasps ring out around him. He drops the arm then slams his fist into the guard's jaw, knocking him out. People scream and flee the dancefloor, leaving Starkiller standing by himself, shoulders squared, head tilted slightly forward, hiding his identity behind the cowl of his cloak. The guards on the wall and at the table hesitate, frozen. Starkiller drops his hood, revealing his face.
The guards gasp and go for their weapons. He marches toward the table, draws his lightsaber and ignites it, loving the hum it makes as it moves through the air. Laadu curses loudly and tries desperately to get up, but he's pinned by men on his left and right. The dancers on the table jump down, running away screaming. The guards start firing. Green beams fly at him and he bats them away without effort, still moving ahead steadily. The guards lining the wall bring their weapons to bear.
Starkiller reaches his left arm out toward an empty booth, ripping it out of the ground and letting it hover. While blocking bolts with the saber, he throws the table at the guards on the wall. More screams, more chaos, more blaster fire. The guards left standing run for cover. Laadu still tries to flee his table. Starkiller keeps closing the distance when he senses a disturbance.
"Behind you!" Ahsoka shouts.
He can feel it, dozens of guards coming up the stairs behind him. He gets an idea and grins. He reaches out with his free hand, still blocking bolts with his lightsaber, then with his mind, he takes hold of Laadu's booth, ripping it out of the ground and hurling it toward the stairs. The guards reach the landing just the booth and table careens into them. Starkiller turns behind him, stomping toward the wreckage where Laadu lays in a heap of bodies.
The guards now in cover start firing. He all but ignores them, blocking their bolts without looking as he strides toward Laadu. He reaches him and lifts him off the ground with his mind, and lowers him over his shoulder. He turns back towards the guards who have now stopped firing. They look to each other, not knowing what to do. Starkiller raises his saber as a salute, then walks down the stairs until he reaches ground level.
With Laadu over his shoulder, he walks out of the club. He walks across the street and back to the alley. He throws Laadu over over the back of the waiting speeder bike. He goes through his pockets, throwing his weapons into a nearby dumpster and pocketing his cash and coin. He ties him up, secures him on the back of the bike.
"You better hurry," Ahsoka says. "Authorities are mobilizing."
"Understood," Starkiller says.
He hops on the bike and starts it with a kick. It roars to life and he hammers down the throttle, power-sliding out of the alley, then straightening out and speeding up more. Laadu wakes up and starts screaming bloody murder. Starkiller smirks and punches the accelerator even more. Everything blurs on the outsides of his vision, gravity tries to rip him off the back of the bike, and his guts try to escape through his back. He weaves around slow moving speeders, then slams the brakes to take a quick corner into a narrow alley. He speeds up, the alley walls passing a mere foot from either side of the bike. Laadu screams even louder.
Keeping all his focus on the road ahead, Starkiller threads the needle through the alley and emerges out the other side.
"Good," Ahsoka says. "You've slipped the net."
He slows a bit, winding through heavy traffic.
"Now what?" Ahsoka says.
Starkiller wishes he knew.
Author's Note
Hey, everyone! I want to think you all for the amazing support you've shown the story, even after all this time of inactivity. Drama hit, then health issues spread through my family. Writing became a very difficult thing for me. But that's all behind me now (I dearly hope so.) And I'm hoping to get more updates up quick.
I wanna thank my reviewers. Sorry I didn't have time to thank you each personally. And I wanna thank everyone who has read. You are all awesome!
Well, it's finally here: Part Ten. What did you think? My prose has grown a bit since my last update, I hope you enjoyed it!
Thanks again. I hope life finds you all well.
Until next time.
Mojo