Salutations everyone !
Enjoy !
Thanks to jediavatar for his input, I'm so glad you liked high Firefly. And yes, the extent of Rukil's knowledge is somewhat a mystery, even in the game. Keep wondering...
disclaimer[10]
Chapter 10 : Well this sucks.
Yeah, it does. I warned you already, don't pull these faces at me. Not my fault.
The bright side of this place is that there are plenty of corpses to loot, and quite rich at that. Rakghouls are only interested in flesh, not material possessions. So that's a bonus.
The downside is...well, where do I begin ?
Each time you open a door there's a 78% chance it leads to a room filled with hungry mutants. One would wonder if they're actually waiting for you to do just that. If so, then Rakghouls may be more interesting than I first thought. Only a slightly Force-sensitive creature is able to foresee events like that.
Or they're just too dumb to activate the opening mecanism. Which raises more questions than it answers really. For example : who closed the doors ? How did they manage to survive this long ? How come they don't skin each other ? How did they kill those two people in the dead end we just passed, seeing as there's a door closing the access to said dead end ?
Why does their breath smell of blueberry ?
Yeah, I'm kind of in position to know. Not voluntarily of course. The one currently clinging to my shoulders and going for my jugular is creeping on my nerves, fast. I reluctantly headbutt him and take advantage of his momentarily distraction to snake the first metallic object from my belt.
It's a screwdriver. Nice. It'll take forever to clean, but it's sharp enough, so...
I plunge it in the mutant's eye as it lunges at me once again with a growl of rage. Then I punch it on the side of the head and kick it off. It crawls away, whimpering. Pathetic.
I watch with interest as Carth and Mission stand back to back, fending off three famished creatures. It's amusing.
«What do you think of that Chip ? I ask him conversationally.
-Commander Onasi isn't at ease in close quarters, Chip humors me. His manoeuvers are mostly basic Republic training, with a few customized dodging techniques. But really, what else to expect from a pilot ?
-And the Twi'lek ?
-Really, fly with a burning rear ? Am I the one to ask about street fighting ?
-Good point. Still, it's useful to have a second opinion on things, don't you agree ?
-I don't give opinions, merely facts and sometimes extrapolations of facts. However, I believe I understand what you mean.
-Perfect, just spit it out !
-Such impatience ! Well, what is there to say, she's got experience fighting these aberrations, see how she's capable of anticipating her opponent's moves. Like most Twi'lek, she doesn't lack mobility or suppleness and she handles her blade rather skillfully. Unlike you in that respect, you're such a brute.
-It works, doesn't it ?
-Unquestionably.
-Ow, that looked painful ! Did you see that claw slashing right through...
-I did. On the bright side, he may have to replace that jacket.
-You can say that again.
-Speaking of which, may I address you with a query ?
-Of course, what's on your mind ?
-Well...in every source I could find I read that friendship, or even fellowship, entailed mutual aid. And so I'm confronting this knowledge to the reality presented to me. Don't you see a contradiction here ?
-Is that your way of saying I should go and help them ? Because you can forget it, I've taken far too many risks already for a decade !
-It isn't, I'm merely yearning for understanding.
-Look, it's very simple, there's no fellowship whatsoever between me and them, much less friendship.
-Oh...that is acceptable. Another question then : when do you know there's fellowship between sentients ?
-You're never really sure what the others think, but honestly why bother with them. Basically you decide to consider that there is one or not and you act accordingly.
-So there are no objective criteria to define the relationship status among sentients ?
-Exactly.
-Why must you organics make everything so complicated.
-'Cause it's fun to mess with you non-organics, obviously.
-Don't 'obviously' me, mister, I'm no lesser being like most of your species !
-Sorry, it just slipped out.»
The end of combat marks also the end of our firendly banter. Mission's eagerness to go help her ball of fur bails me out of a You've-got-absolutely-no-morals-and-I'm-gonna-chan ge-it lecture from Professor Paranoid, for which I am extremely grateful.
Turn left, disable some mines, down the ladder, not this way, man what is this muck, watch out, more Rakghouls to kill, and finally we're there. The gamorrean part of the sewers. Easily recognizable by the two sniveling green-skinned guards wielding huge axes with a brute force. From behind a corner I take careful aim just as Mission does the same on the other side of the corridor. In the face preferably. It's much easier with Chip's pointers on my visor.
I nod and fire. Mission does too. None of them drops but both are stunned, more exactly blinded by our bolts. Carth jumps out and releases the shots he'd been charging so far. We finish them off easily. That's the thing with gamorreans : don't get close to them and you'll be fine.
Which can prove to be hard for certain people : gamorreans are usually far more endurant than humans. Myself excepted of course.
However, here, they have the upper hand : these corridors, while they can provide cover and opportunities for sneak attacks, are better suited for close combat. Fortunately we (well, when I say we...) have one thing that they don't. Brains.
«Do you know where their chief is ? I ask Mission.
-Um, I'm not sure...»she answers hesitantly.
So, no. That's bothersome. What options do we have ? Bringing the ceiling down on them ? While certainly a decisive and amusing solution, it won't help us much in accomplishing our goal. But then, seeing as Mission seems just as lost in the sewers as we are, it's painfully obvious that she isn't even sure of the route to the Vulkar base. Which means she isn't that useful to us after all. She might know some sort of password to get in there, but let's be realistic for a moment here : I can hack into pretty much anything, from a candy vending machine to the Jedi archives on Coruscant, so it shouldn't be a problem getting through whatever old-school mechanism may be barring the passage.
Which brings me to my next point : why are we even bothering with this ? I could just slit her throat, loot her things and be off feeling richer and rid of an annoying useless companion. It's very tempting.
I suspect it won't go well with Carth, though. He and his stupid morals. I'd never hear the end of it. He might even want to get rid of me, and his aim is frightingly accurate, as painful as it is to admit.
It'd be better to make it look like an accident. A moment when I'm conveniently distracted while she critically needs my help maybe ? Hm, delightful.
It'll have to be soon, before we find the Wookie. Until then, she's vulnerable. How though ? I don't know the layout of this place, nor how close we are. I believe the best chance is in the room of the chieftain : there will be a lot of gamorreans, they'll probably surround us easily, and then in the chaos, who knows what can happen ?
I'll have to make sure her stealth field generator doesn't work. Sounds like an assignment for Chip the Destroyer.
The question is, will I be able to slip out of it unharmed ? My leg still stings and I'm no match for the foul creatures in hand-to-hand. However, it might be distracting to try. Who knows, I may add another spectacular deed to my 'best of' list.
Alright, sounds like a plan. I inform Chip distractedly (by keyboard, not orally. I'm not as stupid as people think).
While I was plotting all of this, Mission and Carth managed to get into an argument.
«...want a lecture ? How's this : only bratty little children fly off the handle because of a simple comment ! Carth's shouting.
-I don't have to listen to you Carth ! Mission yells back. You ain't my father, though you're sure old enough to be ! So keep your comments in your wicked old head, 'cause I don't need 'em !
-And I sure as hell...»
Excellent, they're so engrossed in it that Chip has the perfect opportunity to short-circuit said field generator without any of them notcing. There, done, no-one even blinked at it. It's reparable of course, I wouldn't want to destroy potential loot, would I ?
Good, they're finished. Fuming, but quiet. Which may serve me after all : he won't be too upset over her 'tragic' death. I hope. I won't have him moping for the rest of this...'mission'.
We're good to go now, so onwards !
It must be here. The stench is even worse than usual, if you can believe it. My eyes are tearing up from the air alone, and you can actually see the cloud of smell. It's greenish. The door is bigger than most and the density of walking pigs has been increasing all the way here. I'm actually surprised they didn't realize they were under attack, what with our less-than-discreet approach. But gamorreans are mostly deaf anyway.
«Here's a fun fact, Chip quips happily. One third of the population of Coruscant believes that Exar Kun didn't exist, but that it was a Jedi decoy masking a political manoeuver. Would you believe that this proportion is only of one fifth on Naboo ?
-No kidding, I mumble distractedly.
-Indeed not ! he continues. Try to guess the reason. Come on, try it !
-Because there are more Jedi on Coruscant ?
-Er...maybe, yes, he concedes. Oddly enough, the page I was browsing through suddenly disappeared. I suspect there's poor connection down here.
-Well, who would've thought.»
He hums in my ear and quietens. I look back at my two 'companions'. A grin spreads on my face and I motion for Mission to come over. I draw my vibroblade and wait for her to do the same.
«We'll strike them down in the first seconds, I explain. Carth's no good with a sword so he'll have our backs. Right Carth ?
-Sure.
-Good. Now we have to take the chief as fast as possible so that they don't have a chance to recover. He'll probably be on the far end of the room so alacrity is the key here. Be careful.
-Got it» she smiles at me.
Little does she know, I don't actually care for her well-being.
The door opens and we rush inside. There's about twelve of them, one wearing more clothing and carrying a bigger axe. The chief.
I point him out to Mission and we fly over there. Mission's the first to arrive - as I intended - and slashes him across the chest. That doesn't go over well.
I'm intercepted by a handful of giant barbaric...things...(yeah, I'm running out of metaphors) effectively cutting me off of Mission. I delete her very presence in combat from my mind and concentrate on survival. Chip drowns the sound of Carth's firing by playing a musical background from a random arcade. Thanks bud. That sure lightens the atmosphere.
And motivates me.
I start spinning and slashing in every direction. Then I slip between two distracted gamorreans and shoot one in the back of the head. It grunts and turns around. But I'm already gone. I backstab it in the knee and it lets out a pained howl. I'm prevented from going at it again by two axes coming down at me. Very fast.
Fortunately Chip calculates an escape route even faster and I launch myself on my right. The weapons crash on my previous location, one frightingly close to my foot. Yes, I fell. If you laughed at that, I'll come to your house and flush you down the toilet. I'm not threatening, I'm just trying to plan what I'll do next. You wouldn't believe how bored I get.
Not now though. This is actually challenging ! I'm more dodging than doing any real damage for the moment, but that's alright, I won't tire very easily. I'm wondering how Mission is faring. Is she dead yet ?
No matter, I can stretch this out for a little longer. Just to be sure. Five gamorreans on me, that's quite enough for my taste. Dodge, dodge, jump, slide, parry, go for it ! I just stabbed one in the stomach, it went all the way through. Four to go.
And no blade. Mine is deeply imbedded in the corpse and I don't have the time to get it out. The dodging game has resumed, I have to get out of there. Chip points out an opening and I take it. However one of them elbows me in the process and the head.
Damn it !
I'm thrown to the ground and before my vision clears an enormous hand closes on my neck and lifts me.
It's squeezing ! I twist and flail about, trying to pry its fingers off, but it's holding tight ! I'm starting to suffocate. Finally I manage to get my hand on my boot where my knife is hidden. I stab it in the wrist and it lets go. I crash miserably. Chip plays a 'game over'. No need to be snide ! I roll out of the way and blink hard against the haziness. I shoot randomly at the big silhouette stomping in my direction. I can't make sense of any of the indications Chip's giving me through my visor.
One of my shots hits it but it merely grunts. Then a flurry of lights brings it down. Commander Onasi I presume. It was about time he manifested himself. I banish the rest of my daze and stand up to face my opponents. Three of them. I raise my gun and blast one in the eye.
«Nice shot, Chip concedes.
-Thank you for stating the obvious, I rebuke him.
-I was just being agreeable, he snaps.
-I know.»
No time for pleasantries, there's one more, so that's three slavers rushing at me with murder in the eyes. Suddenly, there's a desperate cry :
«Mission !»
I grin internally. Twi'lek down, let's hope she stays down. Indefinitely.
Which also means I don't have to hold back, now that she's presumably dead. After all, if she's still alive, I don't have any way to know, do I ? Maybe it didn't even occur to me.
So, grenades it is. One flash, three frags. That clears out the room pretty well, there's still the chieftain and two sidekicks. Pretty damaged at that. Nothing a couple of shots can't arrange.
We dispatch them fairly quickly, the big one took us longer and he awarded me of a nice bruise on the arm. Brute. But all things considered it ended to my satisfaction.
I try not to look too smug as I make my way to the blue bloodied mass of limbs that only shortly ago went by the name Mission. However as I'm closing in I notice she isn't dead yet. Agonizing ? I'm not even sure...
Drat, she's just pretending ! Ah, she's clever that one. Not clever as in me clever naturally, but more intelligent than the norm. Noone is safer than the dead, right ? Well, not always, for instance if we were at a science fare I'm not sure I'd be envying the dissection subjects. I'm not even particularly attracted by the prospect of being eaten by a Rakghoul. Surprising, I know. Anyway, in this case, it worked.
At least Carth won't nag me all the time. And I'm planning on getting rid of her as soon as possible.
Mission stands up carefully and flashes us an enormous smile. Carth lets out a relieved breath. I roll my eyes. It doesn't take much to impress a simpleton like him.
«I see you can move about without losing any body parts so let's hurry, shall we ?» I grumble impatiently.
She attempts to elbow me (playfully I suppose) but I step aside and discourage her from any more shows of unwanted affection by shooting her a look. Now, I know many characters, or even many real persons, pretend they have a look, which should be feared if their stories are to be believed.
Mine is arrogantly bored.
It has its effect on people, most noticably that they understand at least partially how uninterested I am in their pathetic little existences and they leave me alone. While seeming rightfully offended. Which is kind of the point. Pissing them off without actually doing anything. Beautiful, isn't it ?
Her smile turns into an uncomfortable one and she hurriedly turns back to Republic, then to the only door left unopened in the room. Fine, let her have it, I'm ransacking the place on my own.
For barbaric green meatbags they have quite a lot of money. Surprising. Well, I suppose slave hunting is a comfortable enough job. Especially on planets where it isn't forbidden. Like here.
So, more credits for me, and yet more credits for me, and nothing for the noble heroes rescuing the famished beast from Kashyyk. After all they wouldn't be heroes if they got anything in return for their heroic acts, would they ? I certainly am not complaining.
I snort at Carth's unability to understand a single word the Wookie is telling him. I of course am able to follow the entire conversation without even trying to overhear, but I won't brag about it right now.
On second thought, I will brag. Don't like, don't read, that's the rule. So I have this knack for learning languages, I can master the basics of a wholly new one in a month and give the locals a run for their money in about one and a half. Plus there's the fact that I can understand at least the intention of the one speaking to me without actually catching a single word. It's pretty handy especially in my line of work. Even if you wish sometimes that you couldn't. For example when you get laughed at for trying to eat one of the local so-called 'specialties'. If you hadn't understood anything the sadists who put you through this were saying, you wouldn't a) know what the meal is actually made of, b) feel like an idiot, and c) start a riot in the bar-slash-cantina-slash-restaurant-slash-wherever you're presently hanging out because you've been ripped-off.
But usually it's still very useful.
Suddenly there's silence. Bizarre. I look up only to be met by a furry pair of knees. Unfamiliar. Sure enough, there's a Wookie upper-body above said knees. Am I in trouble ?
«Hi, I say uncertainly. Zaalbar is it ?
-It is, he answers peacefully. I understand you're the one to thank for my rescue from a life of slavery. I am very grateful.
-I think you've got things mixed up, I shrug dismissively. She's the one who wanted to rescue you, I'm just here because we made a deal.
-You understand the language of my-
-Don't be so surprised, I cut him off. I'm hardly common folk.
-So I see, he comments cryptically. However I feel I must thank you nonetheless for my freedom. It is a very-
-I get it, it's a big deal among your people, but as I said, it was a trade, not out of the goodness of my heart. I still need to collect on it as a matter of fact.»
You might be wondering why I'm reluctant to accept his gratefulness. Thinking : «It can't hurt, can it ?» You'd be right, well, you'd be as right as an ordinary sentient being can be. I'm not trying to be insulting, I'm just...nevermind, I am being a git on purpose. Just an expriment to see if you'll take this from me and keep on reading. And how long it's going to last.
What was I saying again ? Oh yes, about the Wookie's thanks. You see, I know exactly where this is going. My travels have brought me to Kashyyk more than once and I know a lot about the Wookie culture. And the price for freedom is a little ritual called the 'life-debt'. It means pretty much what it says : a lifelong debt that the Wookie swears to the one who saved his sorry ass. It's also a great show of respect.
I don't want that. This bug flies solo. Aside from Chip naturally, but he comes with the package.
«You want to thank someone, thank Republic over there, I add. I know he doesn't understand a word, but he's much more 'honorable' than I am.»
That's right, I'm dumping my problems elsewhere. Something you need to learn if you're to succeed in life.
«This decision is not yours to make, he objects with a hint of annoyance. I am obliged by our customs to reciprocate the favour, and I must do this by swearing a life-debt to you.
-A life debt ? Mission exclaims, astonished. Are you sure Big Z ?
-Quite sure.
-Wow, Big Z swearing a life-debt to you, that's big !
-No, really ? And here I thought it was just a promise to buy me ice-cream one of these days.
-Do not joke about our sacred traditions !
-Relax, I'm not. I was merely implying that your blue sidekick here was being annoyingly and blatantly obvious. Isn't that right Mission ?
-Jerk !
-And there you have it. Now, what is it going to be ?»
I was right. Mission has been completely useless. Just as I predicted she forgot the way to the Vulkar base and when we finally got there she ony managed to open the force field that was blocking the way by punching in a code she had written on a scrap of paper. I would've gotten this off her corpse. Or I would've sliced through the damn field. Granted it's an old model on which the conventional spikes used to hack don't work, but spikes are for amateurs. All I need is a keyboard and possibly some tools. Chip helps too, in fact I prefer letting him do it, it's far quicker and neater that way.
Or I could have just shot it in the weakness over there and the whole thing would have shut down.
The issue is, I won't be rid of the teen that easily, because Zaalbar foolishly swore his damnable debt and there's no separating the pair.
Oh, and another reason I don't like her. It has to do with her memory again. How in space has she been able to forget that there's a gigantic Rancor guarding the entrance ! That's the kind of thing you don't forget even after having been beaten repeatedly upside the head with a sledgehammer ! It's inconcievable to be so scatterbrained !
«Any ideas ? I mutter while hiding behind a corner.
-We could just sneak past, Mission suggests.
-With what, one stealth field generator for the entire group ? Or maybe we could go disguised as particles of dust ?
-Well sorry, she says sarcastically.
-As well you should be.»
Naturally I could outrun him. Chip's supplied me with all the technical data about Rancors so I know very well I'm faster. But if the door over there is closed, then I won't have time to get it open in time. Besides noone else will be capable of such a prowess. What does that leave ? Killing it ? Easier said than done. Their skin is so thick I couldn't slice it with my mind ! No, the only way to put it down is to make it eat something really dangerous. Like explosives. I enjoy working with explosives. Sounds like a plan.
There's still the little question of how. Unless I booby-trap one of us and feed him to it...well I could kill two birds with a stone like that...appealing. Yet irrealisable. They're not that dumb.
I think.
Speaking of which, I'm wondering how a beast this size has been able to survive down here. It's completely trapped so unless it's being fed regularly it should've been starving. Naturally it's an excellent security measure but they could've just sealed the door. It woud've been cheaper for all involved.
If it isn't the Vulkars' idea, then I'm fearing natural selection is hard at work in there. Anyone stupid enough to take on a Rancor doesn't deserve to live.
Well, I'm saying that, but I'm planning to do the same. Hypocrisy ? Not at all. I'm just being realistic about it. And certainly not idiotic to the point of charging it while I'm still wounded and it's still awake. This kind of deeds is for Republic pawns. Patriotic preferably. At least their death is a little amusing to watch.
But that's beside the point.
Bottom line, I'm hitting the sack. Not here though, we spotted a relatively clean room a few paces back, that's where I'll be.
«Keep trying to wake you neurones from their age-old hibernation, guys ! You might just figure out something you missed so far !»
Zaalbar's dissatisfied growl makes me chuckle. I did warn him. I can picture Mission's twitching lekku with irritation, and Carth rolling his eyes. Masochists, the lot of them. The longer they'll stay, the longer I'll take shots of various prices at them. I'm just saying, nothing's actually binding them to me ! Well, that's not accurate where Zaalbar's concerned, considering...
My mind is running in circles again. It is time to power down.
I set up a nice nest in a quite dry corner, set up my motion detectors and naturally the traps sychronized with them and doze off to the melodious lullaby Chip's humming in my ear.
No, wait !
I sit upright once more : I haven't tended to my leg yet ! I swallow an anesthetic and sterilise my trusted knife. Meanwhile the rest of the group comes in. Fortunately they seem to get my drift and they don't try to talk me out of it. Excellent. I prepare to make the first cut when Carth's heavy footsteps come close.
«Need a hand ? he offers.
-No.
-You sure ?
-Quite.
-Have you done this before ? he asks dubiously.
-Yess, I hiss getting annoyed very fast.
-Okay.»
He thankfully goes back to the others, leaving me in peace. I plunge the blade in my flesh, using the guidelines Chip's displaying on my visor. I told you, he's reliable in all circumstances. And much more knowledgeable than I. Unsurprising considering he only has to scan though the pages of an encyclopedia to update his database. We humans have it harder. Heck, I had trouble with learning how to read ! Yeah, sure, laugh all you want, but try to find a school on a hellhole of a planet when you're a street kid with barely enough money to survive ! Well, when I say you have money...
Hum, anyway, that's not what I was talking about. Geez, I'm getting awfully sidetracked these days. So, I manage to pull out all of the shrapnels from the mine without butchering my poor limb too much, and close the wounds with kolto injections. You know, kolto, the miraculous healing...fluid...that is harvested on Manaan mostly. The one thing from the ocean I actually see worth in.
I take a deep relieved breath, lie down and close my eyes.
Odd. I don't have the same dream twice usually. Yet this time...
I'm on the spaceship again, facing the three Jedi dead set on killing me.
«You cannot win ! Bastila shouts. Not this time !»
Oh dear, am I to relive this all over again ?
Apparently so. I turn my back at them, look at the stars, they're beautiful, Bastila's pissed, blah blah blah.
«I want to see you dead !»
Ah, good. Something new. I raise my hands and wriggle my fingers. They're practically itching with anticipation. I sense the Jedi approaching from behind. They're unsettled. Morals. Is it alright to stab me in the back ? Questions...
The longer they'll wonder the more cookies there'll be for me. After all, I'm not here to kick their asses and be done with it. Oh no, I have a wholly different agenda. Gain time.
And eventually...
«Face us and fight ! one of the knights orders.
-Why, are you afraid to taint your spotless hands, Jedi ?» I sneer.
I slowly turn around, my long dark cape whirling behind me like a shadow. I so enjoy the drama. I distinctly see them fighting the urge to take a step back. There is no fear, my sweet bottom.
«Well, here I am» I open my arms invitingly.
It doesn't speak well of the Order to see that the bravest of them is the youngest one. Bastila lunges at me, lightsaber set in a classic attack stance. I dodge gracefully. She brings it down again, and I step aside. Finally the two others join the fight. Or try to. I wave them off, and by that I mean that they're sent flying away and rolling to the end of the room. I'm surprised they didn't see it coming, but then I've already cut down most of the Jedi elite forces. Well, I or somebody working for me. They're really scraping the bottom of the jar here.
I'm slightly impressed with Bastila's resistance though. For a freshly out Padawan she's quite tough. No match for me of course, but...Well, by resistance, I mean that she wasn't thrown so far. She's still sporting a nasty bruise on the brow. My bad ?
Oh oh. I'm sensing it coming. Darn, not so soon, I was only getting started !
I brace myself reflexively as a loud explosion rings out on the bridge.
There's pain. A lot of it.
And then I wake up.
Not sweaty, nor afraid, just, well...curious. As I take a look at my surroundings, I notice that they're all sound asleep, Carth stretched out to his full lengh and blaster held firmly in hand, and Mission cuddled to Zaalbar. I suppose it's warm in there. And really smelly. Bleurgh.
I won't move, I suspect I might get a bolt from Mister Twitchy for my efforts. So, thinking time.
I relax my body as my mind turns into itself. First layer. Smells from the environment, short-term memory. I'll need to collect data from the dream I just had and take it with me. I stumble upon a crazy idea that just popped out of nowhere. No manners, those impulses, really. I'll have to do something about that. Someday. I have more pressing matters at the moment. So, memory department, take a ticket and have a s-WHAT ? I OWN the place, what's this ? Mutiny ? No way in space, I'm not tolerating that.
There, much better. I have a special counter now. So, the recordings please. Thank you, wait not these you idiot, the DREAM, do I have to spell it out for you ! No, I don't remember how it's spelled, you're in charge of my memory you simpleton ! Yes, that's what I need. That's right, good day to you too.
Yess, I'm arguing with my own mind. Perfectly sane, thank you, why do you ask ?
Hm, I need to go deeper.
I concentrate and float further away from my surroundings. It's like taking the elevator to a basement. A high-tech basement naturally, so well-kept that even Mission couldn't lose anything. Especially valuable information (wink-wink nudge-nudge). No, I'm not over that. I probably won't be anytime soon. Vindictive, I told you. So, a computer-room with really awesome lights. You'd be surprised how a simple trick of light can change the atmosphere in a room. I insert the recordings in one of the machines and hit the play button.
I sit in the swivel chair in the center and stetch my legs out. The soft hum of electricity lulls me into a light sleep. I melt into the level, let my thoughts swirl about and make sense of themselves.
Ah, I feel so refreshed. So many possibilities, it's thrilling. I so love going in my mind. I have some more insight in my strange recurring dream too. I'm assuming it's some sort of memory. It has far too much detail to be the product of a subconscious mind. But whose memory ? Bastila's ? But then one : how whould I be able to get to it ? And two : why would she remember the scene in third person perspective ? Better yet : why am I in the body of the powerful guy ? Why do I feel kinship with him ? Was it me ?
Ridiculous. I remember everything I've ever done in my life, and this isn't one of them. Although...well, there's still the possibility of having been brainwashed, but why bother with giving me a new identity ?
I need more data.
However as in my 'dream' I was able to manipulate the Force, I may have retained that ability. I'll have to experiment on that. Preferably without being seen. It's always useful to hold a special little talent back, in case of emergency. Or a pressing need to backstab a 'buddy'.
My eyelids snap open and I take a look around. Zaalbar's still winning hands down the ongoing snoring contest. I straighten myself up and take out Chip. I explain to him my conclusions. He agrees with my assessment of the situation. Good. We then indulge in a friendly game of 'SpaceHunters'. It's a video game in case you're wondering. No, I won't explain. Suffice to say Chip wins but it was a close call.
By the time I'm done (playing and snooping around) they're awake. And very surprised - slightly shocked - when they find out their underwear have been switched. I must stifle a giggle at that. I've really outdone myself this time. Getting the Twi'lek panties on Onasi has been very challenging. I had to use some...err...unconventional methods to make him stay asleep, but it was worth it.
I'm realizing only now that telling you this...dare of mine...makes me appear like some sort of perverted individual. Well, I am, but I did it for the sole purpose of seeing if I could. Well, rather of proving that I could. Not...whatever your sick minds can come up with. Brr, it makes my skin crawl just thinking about it.
I get my kicks by showing off. And making my all too eager companions uncomfortable. There's a good chance they'll think twice before deciding to follow me again.
«HOPKICK !» Carth's scandalized shout makes me cringe.
I suppose I had it coming.
«Yes ? I aswer innocently.
-What the HELL !
-Language, Commander, I scold him. There are sensitive beings in this room. I don't want Chip turning coarse because of you.»
Carth's next outburst is interrupted when Mission slaps me hard on the left cheek.
«SON OF A BITCH ! she yells in my face.
-Probably so, however I hardly think it's relevant, do you ? I smirk.
-You...you...!
-That hurt by the way.»
I get another one on the right cheek this time. Ow.
«Ah, there it is. Compensating for a deficit in humor by unwarranted violence.
-Unwarranted ?! she goes off. You took my underwear !
-First of all, have you got any proof of that, and secondly, I don't see the problem. I replaced it, didn't I ?
-Yeah, but that's not the issue here !
-Then what is ?»
Oh, that purple is just hilarious. The deeply shocked scowl Carth's wearing isn't doing much better for my so far straight face.
«I suggest you put this matter behind you as we have much more pressing ones to attend to, I shrug dismissively. You may take the time to...restore normality beforehand if you wish.»
By the end of my line I'm barely keeping my laughter at bay, so I quickly get out of the room to let them sort it out. As long as I'm here I may as well go check out the Rancor.
«I hope you realize you just destroyed every ounce of trust your companions may have placed in you, Chip comments.
-Bah, they'll get over it. Hey, you have to admit, it was pretty funny.
-That it was. And yet I wonder if it was worth it. After all you still have to work with them, wouldn't it be reasonable then to make sure this co-operation is as painless as possible ?
-Probably.
-Then why did you do it regardless ?
-Because I could.
-...in your case, a fair argument. So, how do you propose we proceed with the great beast ?
-Well, we could try and blast it into meaningless chunks of meat, but I suppose we also may use the fact that it's currently snoring louder than a squad of banthas.
-Here is to hoping the Commander and the Brush's have abilities at stealth.»
Chip illustrates the toast with the sound of cheers and drinking. I silently agree. I sincerely hope we won't get caught. I make the most of their absence by deciding to go scout the door. Just in case it's blocked. We'd be in it deeply then. I let the meaning of 'it' to your imagination.
I'm tiptoeing right under its nose when a call rings out painfully in the sewers.
«HOPKICK, WHERE THE HE-»
I swear this name will be the death of me. Quite literally I'm afraid. I can picture very clearly the look of utter dismay on the culprit's face.
Because it's printed on mine as well.
Chip immediately calculates an escape route and I don't wait to see if the Rancor is actually awake - as far too many people tend to do, space only knows why - to dash off. I sadly consider the 32.6 % probability to sucessfully run off Chip displays on my visor.
For once I can't defy the laws of statistics.
I'm quickly caught in a vice-like and lifted off the ground. I try to wriggle out, to stab the fingers with my knife, to no avail. The skin is too thick. Chip informs me there's no way that he can generate a sufficiently powerful impulse to daze it. My vision is now filled with and enormous and stinking hole surrounded by, well, gigantic yellowish fangs. A tongue the size of a dolphin eagerly awaits the little treat I'm supposed to be.
I swear I'll be the most annoying thing it'll ever put in its mouth.
Damn it it's squeezing, my left arm is just about to break. I can feel it bending in a way it really wasn't supposed to be. And I can't get to my last grenade...much less arm it, aim and throw it in.
I desperately fumble in my utility belt, careful not to dislodge Chip. With any luck the case he's in will protect him from whatever acid rages in this thing's stomach. I'd like at least him to get out of this alive.
Regardless I still haven't given up. My fingers meet some plastic bag but right then I'm tossed into the mouth and it slips away. Down the throat.
It turns out it was my stock of...well...various pills. Which really shouldn't be taken all at once. Even when you're a two storages high mutant killing machine.
So here I am, desperately clinging to my knife embedded in the cheek of the monster, dodging its attempts at chewing me - and believe me it's much harder when some of the teeth are apparently randomly placed - when it suddenly jerks forward and opens the jaw. I don't even need Chip's spur to seize the opportunity. I slip out and land smoothly on my feet. I make off. I hear absolutely revolting gurgling behind me and the distinct sound of vomit hitting the ground, then a heavy thud followed by silence. I hide behind Zaalbar, then finally manage to find it in myself to look back.
The Rancor is no more. It spilled its guts out, and when I say that, I mean it's really, really messy. And very much dead. That's the important part.
The downside being that a) I'm still trembling with fear; b) My clothes are even stickier than before, not to mention my very beloved hair; c) My pills are gone, all of them ! Well, aside from those in my emergency box, but even so, I have enough nurishment for two days tops ! Alright, so it isn't so critical when antidotes are involved, after all I don't need one a day. Nevertheless I'm far from okay with this. What if I feel the Need again and I don't have anything to satisfy it ? What if I get bored !
No, I'm not an addict, well not to drugs anyway. I'm not exactly sure to what, I suppose it's something along the lines of adrenalin, but what I do know is that there's a kind of pills I make that help with that. I can't really afford a withdrawal in the current circumstances.
That being said I don't think adrenalin is going to be that rare in the following days. So hey, it's not that bad, is it ?
I'll have to actually eat food though. I didn't plan on that. I just know my allergies are going to act up.
Not my main issue right now. My legs are trembling so much I'm having trouble standing. As I try to calm down I let myself against the wall and slide down. I bury my face in my knees and breathe deeply.
«Congratulations, Chip announces cheerfully. You are now a full member of the small community of people who survived a Rancor attack ! You'd be surprised how dangerous-
-Chip, not now.
-But Firefly ! he whines. This is a fun fact !
-I don't care right now.
-Oh...tell me, are you upset about something ?
-Upset ? More like...rattled.
-Then un-rattle yourself so that you can appreciate the full extent of my research !
-Easier said than done you know.
-How so ? When I have a problem, all I have to do is un-do it and everything is fine again. Surely you organics have such an option as well ?
-We wish.
-I apologize dear friend but I must pity you.
-Don't get too comfortable doing that, will you ?
-Not to worry. Would you like some music as well ?
-Oh stars yes !»