"Revenge is not a noble sentiment, but it is a human one." -Rudy Giuliani
-Starkiller-
Starkiller pushed himself back up with his fingers. The weights on his feet made his legs feel like rubber, and every muscle leading up from his finger tips to his toes hurt, but he disregarded the burning sensation and continued to do one-handed upside-down pushups. With his eyes closed, he focused on simple meditation.
An exercise such as this was nearly impossible for a normal person, and was extraordinarily difficult for even the most athletic, dexteritous, and acrobatic weight lifter. Starkiller considered himself athletic and arobatic, but he also had the Force on his side. This exercise was not just meant to train his muscles or sense of balance while on one hand or his concetrantion from having blood rushing to his head, but also his ability to fuel all of the before-mentioned parts of his body and mind with the Force.
His training in the Force was balanced across many areas specializing in combat and assassination. He had techniques in using shadows, lightning, and momentum, but where he truly specialized more than all of this was augmentation and enhancement. He was on the border of being an older teen or young adult, and he could keep up with the greatest of Jedi Masters many times his age, experience, and strength, purely because he had a body that used the Force to make up for that.
Using momentum techniques such as Pull and Push or Hold/Grip were great at all, lightning was lethal and flashy, and shadow was stealthy, but all of it had a simple weakness: The user was mortal. Starkiller was flesh and bone as much as everyone else. The Force was unlimited but the user was weak.
He needed to move faster, swing harder, and have the dexterity to spin on a dime if he was going to keep up with Vader's expectations. If anything, it was specifically because Vader was focused entirely on augmentation and momentum techniques that Starkiller would naturally follow. Vader was a middle-aged man inside of a suit of armor that BARELY kept him alive one moment from the next, yet he was faster than speeders, could block hundreds of laser bolts almost simultaneously, and had the punch of a truck. Vader used the Force to augment his body to the point that he could go above and beyond what could be expected for his condition.
Starkiller felt the Force build within him, and he let it fester. The Dark Side coiled within him like a snake, and he kept it down tight. Tighter and tighter it spun, it burned, it yearned to be free, and it built up strength in doing so. Starkiller let it build, then it released it slowly… not outward, but rather inward. He let it wash over his body like a wet vapor. His cells filled with burning energy, hardened, and his mind sharpened to the point that the world slowed around him and he could focus on every part of his body at once.
With one slow, fluid motion, he bent his fingers and his elbow until his nose touched the metal flooring. He kept his back straight and bent his knees while lowering his legs at the waist. All of his balance was on five fingers as he curled into the shape of a shrimp. Then slowly he reversed the whole thing until he was straight as a rod. Sweat poured off him from this one motion and he felt his limbs shake.
He started to do the motion a second time when a chime from the intercom interrupted his concentration. IT was PROXY. "Master, we have a ship nearby and are being hailed. Shall I answer?"
Starkiller sighed and let himself fall. He collapsed onto the floor. He enjoyed the feeling of a cold metallic floor on his sweaty bare chest.
"Master?"
"Yes, PROXY. I'm on my way." Starkiller answered. "Just… give me a moment."
Kota said something. It sounded distant throught the intercom. (Most likely sitting on his barstool.) "You didn't go and push yourself too hard from boredom, did ya' boy?"
Starkiller tried to get up and argue, but winced when his body protested. "Maybe."
Kota growled in aggravation. "Don't make yourself useless in your drive to overcome some invisible obstacle!... Now get your ass up here."
"Aren't you supposed to be drunk by now?" Starkiller shot back. He forced his aching body to get up and put his Harbinger armor and clothes on. He grabbed his helmet from the intable and nudged Jowwarr. The Wookie had been sleeping in the corner. The big guy just grumbled sleepily, looked up at him with one eye, and nodded before following a few seconds later.
Starkiller hesitated just before reaching the bridge. If they had established comms already, it might have a visual. Just to be safe, he donned the helmet of the Harbinger and entered. There was no visual, it turned out, but he kept the helmet on anyway. It sounded like they would be in business.
He made sure to kick Kota's legs as he passed. The old man was sprawled across the passage way. The chair on which Kota sat on spun in the process and the old man barely managed to slam his hand down to stop his momentum and keep from having his face planted into a panel. "Well, aren't you in a good mood."
"You needed to wake up." Starkiller smiled under his helmet. Even without eyes, Kota managed to mimic the motion of rolling his eyes.
Surprisingly, there were no bottles of alchohol. "Well, this is a first. No booze?"
"I have it hidden in a secret compartment. Don't you worry." Kota smirked. He nodded in PROXY's direction.
"Right, PROXY. Establish comms."
"On it, Master!"
"Would you like to do the talking, old man?"
"Sure. Wouldn't want their first contact to be a young man with no hair on his..." Kota coughed into his hand. Jowwarr burst out in laughter.
Starkiller had the distinct impression he was being insulted, but didn't understand the reference.
PROXY put its hand up, gaining their attention, and counted down with its fingers from five to 0. "Are you reading me?" The person on the other end of the comm asked.
So they didn't have a visual. That was pleasant. Starkiller removed his helmet.
After a brief silence, Kota stepped forward and leaned against PROXY's pilot seat. "We are reading you loud and clear. I am-"
"You will follow us. You will cut off all transmissions. You will lower power to a minimum and turn off both reflective shields and weapons." The person on the other end stated abruptly.
Starkiller bristled. He shook his head no, then remembered Kota can't see it. Thankfully, he didn't have to. Kota didn't like it any better than he did.
"And just why would I do that?"
"Loser wants to speak with you."
Without further ado, the transmission was cut, and their 'friend' turned the ship around and slowly moved away. It stopped at a far enough distance, at such a slow pace, as to say 'Follow'.
"I don't like this." Starkiller said.
Kota frowned, but didn't respond. Starkiller asked, "What?"
"Did you notice the accent?"
"What accent?"
"Well, probably not something you would notice, but when you have my years, its little things like that which u pick up. People have accents based on the culture in which they grew up, the language they learned most, and their species." Kota pointed to the terminal. "That person had a clear Mandalorian accent, human, and spoke very clear basic. People who speak predominantly Mando'a have thicker consonants."
"What does it mean? A mandlorian privateer?"
Kota rubbed his chin in thought. "Makes sense, but then why speak predominatntly Basic?..." He shook his head. "I'm thinking too hard. PROXY, have us follow. Match their speed and path."
PROXY turned its head to Starkiller, and he nodded his consent. "Aye, sir!"
Kota returned to his barstool and put his feet up on the table. Starkiller pulled up a chair and sat across from him. "Old man, if something has you concerned, I want to hear it." Kota frowned. "Even if it is unlikely, I want to be prepared."
Kota sighed, but nodded. "The odds are likely we are looking at a Mandalorian who is in business with pirates or the hutts, I wouldn't even dispute the idea of a freedom fighter against the Empire. Another chance is that we are looking at a clone."
"A clone?" Starkiller wondered.
"The Imperial army is still comprised almost entirely of clones either left over from the Clone Wars, or a new batch. Every batch is more flawed than the previous, but the last I checked they are still being strained from the same Mandalorian DNA." Kota hummed in thought. "Though, it has been nearly twenty years, odds are they found another DNA to base the program on. Either way, the most prominent Mandlorian-types to have an accent like that are stormtroopers and Mando'a that worked in the Core worlds."
Starkiller didn't like it, but he also wasn't sure what this meant. "Bad?"
Kota shook his head. "I don't think so. Stormtrooper or not, they are privateers. I'm just over thinking things."
Starkiller turned his eyes to the front window and watched as they flew. Their 'friend' lead them on slowly through deep space. They had met in a very dense area. Once they were clear, they were provided coordinates to do a small Warp jump to a location nearby. By galactic terms, it was nothing more than taking one step. In deep space terms, where there are asteroids, black holes, wild space life, explosive nebulas, and the like, it was diving into the deeps.
Their 'friend' went into hyperspace first. PROXY confirmed they traveled the same trajectory they had ordered them to do. Kota said, "Do it. Keep your finger's crossed, boy."
"Jowwarr, cross your fingers for me." Starkiller ordered his Wookie. He smirked to see the Wookie already was. "Okay, fine. While we're all doing it." He went ahead and crossed his fingers. "PROXY, join in, its one giant finger-crossing."
PROXY did so, but commented, "Ah, yes. The crossing of appendages. An attempt at turning fate in your favor through ignorant means."
"I think it just called you stupid, old man."
Kota grunted.
They entered hyperspace and exited seconds later to find themselves outside the cluster of asteroids. Instead they found themselves near the wreckage of what was an unidentifable Capital ship. Orbiting the wreckage was an old Clone-wars era Acclamator-class assault ship with a couple corvettes hovering around it.
"Master, we have received landing instructions to enter the wreckage." PROXY stated.
"How bad does it look out there?" Kota asked. Starkiller explained what he saw and Kota nodded. "He's done well for himself. To have an Acclamator is no small thing, but to have his homebase be the wreckage of a capital ship… be prepared, boy. This isn't just some nameless pirate."
Starkiller smirked. 'Good', he thought. 'I can't be bothered to waste my time with weaklings.'
"Master?" PROXY asked.
"Go ahead." Starkiller replied.
"Entering the wreckage now." PROXY confirmed.
Starkiller watched as they passed the Acclamator and entered the wreckage of the capital ship. It was truly massive. Starkiller used an Imperial ship comparible to a corvette and was incredibly wide and tall for its bulk, and his ship was still only 1/2 the height of a single hyper-drive engine of the massive leviathan. Capital ships often had between five and seven hyper-drive engines.
"PROXY," Starkiller said. "Stay with the ship. Use the persona of the Inquisitor again to hide your identity as a droid. Protect the ship."
"Understood."
"Old man, do you think it would be possible to steal their own guns?"
"What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking that if things go bad, we wreck them. If we steal one of the guns from the wreckage, we should be able to make the Accalamator flee while we run."
Kota shook his head. "Your logic is flawed. Those same guns can just as easily be used on us."
Starkiller frowned. True, that thought hadn't occurred to him. "Then we just run after I do as much damage as I can."
"Let us hope it doesn't come to that." Kota whispered.
PROXY landed the ship, and Starkiller put on the persona of Harbinger. His mask fit around his skull and he covered himself in a hooded robe. Kota rose, stumbled, and held himself steady with a hand against the wall. Harbinger stared at him. "Can you walk? How drunk are you?"
Kota shot a glare at him, "I'm fine."
"Then let's go." Harbinger left the bridge. Jowwarr picked up his shields and followed. The door lowered and Harbinger found a number of pirates waiting for them with weapons at the ready. Jowwarr snapped into position in front of him with his shields up, but the pirates didn't fire. Instead another pirate, unarmed, walked through the crowd and stopped just before the ramp leading up to Harbinger's vessel. Kota stumbled his way behind them and stopped after bumping into him.
"What's the hold up?" Kota asked.
Harbinger shushed him, but otherwise didn't respond. He closely watched everyone. If they intended to attack him here isntead of out in open space thinking it would make it easier, they were dead wrong. However, he also had the impression this was just a precaution.
All the same, it was unnerving. Harbinger had spent his life in the mindset of being unseen. Witnesses are a liability and are to die. For him to be the center of attention in front of so many potential enemies was uncomfortable. However, he did not allow this discomfort to show. He kept his face pointing to the unarmed one, as he had the impression this one was a guy of importance.
Turns out he was right, "Loser is expecting you." The man said. "If you will follow me, Jedi."
The man turned and walked away, and Harbinger motioned for Jowwarr to stand down as they followed. He took Kota by the sleeve and tugged him along, and Kota transittioned to following by holding onto the young man's shoulder.
So they assumed Harbinger was a Jedi. A part of him burned at the thought. He was not a traitor, he was not a criminal. He was the one betrayed and was retalliating. There was a massive difference. Yet he felt it would be unwise to argue the sentiment. They had been broadcasting themselves to gain the attention of these pirates with the idea that they were Jedi, and so Jedi they would be. If questioned, then Harbinger would admit he was rather a Sith in league with a Jedi Master, and if they were to be having a problem or well-wishes with him, then it should be directed to Kota.
If these people wanted to assume he was a Jedi, he would let them, until that detail turns into a problem. A bolt of lightning should prove otherwise.
Their guide silently lead them along. Harbinger felt insulted they didn't think him worthy of being guarded. He could just kill the guide and disappear.
"Relax, boy. You are coiled up like a snake." Kota whispered.
Harbinger closed his eyes and did a brief breathing exercise. He was a bit tense. He wasn't scared, but his instincts were prepared for anything and the lack of precautions being made against them now were giving him a bad feeling.
The guide took them to an elevator and they entered in. Harbinger kept his senses on the alert. Would they blow him up within this iron cage?
The elevator opened two floors later, no danger.
The guide explained, "We have now entered the tram station. Capital ships such as these are so large that it requires a train system to access different sections. We will take one for a short trip to where the bridge is located."
"Understood." Harbinger said. "However, I am curious… if the tram system is functional, what other part of this capital ship is functional?"
The guide stopped before a small group of pirates standing guard at a terminal, and they hit keys to unlock a train. The door opened and the guide showed them in. "I am not at liberty to say how much of the ship is functional, but I am sure you saw for yourself the damage."
"In other words, some systems work, and some don't. I have to guess which are which." Harbinger translated.
The guide smiled, and said nothing. The door closed and the tram set off. Harbinger surveyed the tram, the guide, and the surroundings. The tram itself was empty, so possibly held explosives or was being lined up for a sniper shot. The outside of the tram track was wide enough, and had enough ramps and bridges under which they moved, to allow snipers or anyone with torpedo launchers. The guide himself was unarmed and completely relaxed, making him either skilled, insolent, or dumb.
Again, nothing happened.
The tram screeched to a halt two stations later, and the words 'Bridge' appeared on the overhead projector. The guide showed them out. Next was another elevator to another floor three floors above, followed by another much larger one with thirty floor options. This proved to be the final one was they were on the bridge level. The bridge level included accommodations for the VIP's, its own assortment of escape pods, and then the bridge room itself at the end of the long hall.
Still nothing happened, and Harbinger felt each moment of nothing taking a shot at him or trying to blow him up leave him progressively unnerved. There wasn't even very many guards anywhere! Half of the pirates he had seen thus far had all been in the hanger!
The bridge door opened for the guide. He showed them in, but Harbinger's eyes was on the man in the middle. He was very clearly different. Not that he was physically imposing, if anything, he couldn't see any part of his body. The man was covered in yellowish armor from head to toe, and had a cloak similar to that of what he himself wore. The man locked his gaze on Harbinger's mask, and Harbinger smirked. It was interesting to see a person who was as much hidden behind a mask as himself.
"With your lack of precaution, it is a wonder you are still in business." Harbinger commented.
"I could very well say the same about you, but then, I am myself the one with all the cards." Loser countered smoothly. "You broadcasted yourself openly to me to gain my attention, and so you did. However, it was also foolhardy. The Empire pays well for tips on Jedi." He pulled up a datapad. "In fact, as of 900 CT (Coruscant Time), a confirmed tip is 498,365 credits."
"Is that all?" Kota asked. He sounded down.
"Don't sound so depressed, that's just the tip. Your bounty before you were labeled dead was in the millions."
Harbinger grit his teeth. The man was right. He did have all the cards. One anonymous tip and his whole operation was in jeopardy. It was foolish to let Kota emit that broadcast, regardless of the old man's belief they could escape. Harbinger was fine with taking risks, but he didn't like the idea of being at a disadvantage.
Kota whistled with a wide smile, "That's more like it."
Harbinger wanted to smack him. For his part, Loser chuckled, "Well, you must excuse my confusion. The first I heard of you and your group was a corvette full of bodies. I can't have that, it's bad for business, but then… they were just idiots who wanted to usurp me." He stopped chuckling. "You wanted my attention, now you have it."
-Lord Vader-
-Nar Shadaa-
Lord Vader lifted his opponent up through the Force. The man struggled against him and grabbed at his neck as if held by hands, but there was nothing he could do. There were no hands. This was the Force.
"Where is the Jedi you harbor?" Vader demanded.
The man in Vader's grasp was a rebel terrorist. It was one of many small isolated groups split off from the gangs. The others from the group had been easy enough to kill, and Vader left this one for questioning. Vader didn't know his name or history, it didn't matter. There were rumors of a Jedi operating on Nar Shadaa, and he had no intention of letting it slip by.
The tip had come from Grand Moff Tarkin. The clue of a Jedi having moved to Kashyyk namely, and the clue lead them to assume it was a Jedi working for the Hutts. Or perhaps a Sith. Either way, it was a source of Force-users that could rival Vader, and was a traitorous scum.
The man in his grasp struggled to breathe. It would hardly do to have him answer without a windpipe, so Vader released his grip just enough for the man to be able to talk. Rather than squeeze his neck, he shoved the man down into the floor.
"Here is how this will work. You will tell me what you know, and I will kill you. If you don't, then I will take it from you, and I assure you the process is… unpleasent. Then I will kill you." To emphasis his point, Vader placed his hand over the man's head and roughly pierced into his mind. The man screamed in pain and agony, and Vader left as quickly as he had entered. He could take the memories, but then it would have a danger of not finding the correct ones before the man died.
"Okay! Okay! I'll tell you!" The man yelled.
Vader released his grip on the man ever so slightly.
The man took a moment to catch his breathe. "Okay, I'll tell you how to find the Jedi…"
"I'm listening." Vader stated in lessening patience.
"What you do is… you go to local pharmacy down the street… find a pretty thing named Jin, and ask for something called 'Viagra', then you use it to GO **** YOURSELF!" The man yelled. "WHAT THE HELL MAKES YOU THINK I'M GOING TO TELL YOU JACK AFTER WHAT YOU DID TO MY-"
Vader slammed his boot down on the man's hand. Between the weight, the metal, and his Force-augmentation, the man's hand was crushed. Suffice to say, he screamed.
"So, the hard way it is then." Vader lifted the man up by his neck and held his windpipe closed to quiet his screams. He entered the man's mind.
Unfortunately he didn't find anything about Jedi or Sith, but he did find something… interesting.
"'Whiskers', hmm." Vader murmured. Something to look into. Apparently it was a research project of some sort, and for some reason the memory was associated with his thoughts of Jedi and Sith. The man was breathing, but his mind was broken. He was nothing more than a drooling corpse that didn't know it was dead yet. Vader dropped him and departed.
Vader pulled up his gauntlet and transmitted a message to Tarkin. "I need the location of another band, preferably one that knows things. I have no desire to waste my time with these rebels."
-Harbinger-
-In conference with Loser-
"I'm in." Loser stated.
Harbinger stopped in mid-sentence and found himself opening and closing his mouth like a fish. He had expected a lot of things, but for him to barely get started in talking, and already the man was volunteering.
From Kota's slack jaw, he wasn't expecting it either.
"Pardon?" Haringer asked.
"I said I want in." Loser repeated, then he explained. "Some Jedi goes around looking for me, and you expect me to assume you don't have a reason? No. Either there is a problem with me or you want my help. Which is it?"
Harbinger still felt unsure what to make of it. The man was responding too easily. It was a fair assumption, but then his drive to join them… without knowing a single detail. It sent up a lot of flags in his mind.
Harbinger had intended to make a case, appease to his greed with bigger fish to go after, and, if that didn't work, just force him into submission. These people were pirates. He held no reservations that they would not join if forced. Later he would earn their loyalty, but the first step would have been ugly.
But for Loser to just jump in, without knowing a single detail, without knowing what he was jumping into, and making it seem logical, completely blew Harbinger's mind. He could practically feel the hamster wheel in his head coming to a halt because said hamster had to stop and stare.
"I-" Harbinger cleared his throat. "I am seeking allies."
"Great, lovely." Loser rubbed his hands together. "So who we gonna save?"
Harbinger could only stare.
"Uh…" Loser hesitated. "You are a Jedi Master, are you not?"
"Yes." Kota answered.
"And Jedi help people, yes?"
"Yes."
"Depends on who you ask." Harbinger whispered. He knew Jedi to be different then their old reputation. The Jedi had proven themselves criminals, not the loving kind they claimed to be.
"Then why are you confused?"
Kota stepped forward, "Pardon me, but it is very unusual for a pirate-"
"Smuggler." Loser corrected.
"-to jump in on a bandwagon without knowing the destination. You have no idea what we have planned, what our goals are, or how it may involve you, and you just volunteer?... And what do you mean smuggler?"
"I'm a smuggler. I do privateer work, but the mainstay of my business is smuggling." Loser chuckled.
"Never heard of you." Kota replied with concern.
Loser thrust out his chest in pride. "Then that just means I am good at my job. Smugglers with reputations are amateurs. Like that Han fellow…" Loser returned to the previous question, "But then, I guess it might be odd for you. Sorry about that, I've just been chomping at the bit to work for a Jedi! And one falls right into my lap no less! I haven't been this excited in years." He rubs his gloved hands together. "So, what do you want from me?"
Harbinger glanced to Kota and saw his concerned expression. Harbinger felt a bit more relaxed about the sudden volunteering, but it still did not make sense and left him uncomfortable. The guy was either a nut or just very… unusual.
Harbinger put his hand on Kota's shoulder and pulled back ever slightly. Kota got the message and stepped back as Harbinger stepped forward. This got Loser's attention, and Harbinger saw him direct his eyes fiercely on him. Thus far his attention had mostly been on Jedi Master Rahm Kota.
Harbinger said, "First, before I answer your question, I must ask one of my own. Specifically why are you so interested in working with a Jedi?"
Harbinger had the impression his reason was very personal if he was to react this way. Sick relative perhaps?
While Loser's face was hidden behind a metalic mask, Harbinger felt his composure darken heavily, and the man's eyes fell in memory. Briefly, he scanned the room. This made Harbinger curious. After a moment, Loser contented himself with those assembled, as if what he was about to say was secret on a personal level. He sighed.
"If it is that much of a concern to you, then I will answer." He reached up and removed his mask. What Harbinger saw made him cringe. Behind the mask, he had no skin. It was burned off. He had no lips and no cheeks so his teeth were openly revealed. "My name is Loser, but my designation at birth was E16-742. I served in the Clone Wars under a Jedi Master… I am a clone."
-Loser-
-Years Ago-
The war had gone on for what seemed a life time to Loser. Coincidentally it was the very thing he was born for.
What made it bearable was the company. Him, his brothers, their Jedi General. They were a close knit group. You had to be when each other was all you had. Turns out, the planet they had been sent to engage the enemy on was a peculiar one. While technology functioned fine, there was something about the atmosphere that ruined communication of all kinds. Short range and long range communication couldn't function. They had to resort to smoke signals and flags.
"How long do you think before the Republic remembers we are here?" Loser asked.
Him and his buddies sat in their foxhole. Their guns were strapped to their shoulders, and everything was quiet. They allowed themselves enough relaxation to talk. They were just outside basecamp after all.
"We have been here for years, Loser." One of his squad, and friends, replied. "Don't think they will remember anytime soon."
"You didn't go and touch the comm array did you?" Another teased Loser.
Loser huffed. "I told you that wasn't my fault."
"Hey, lay off the kid." Their captain said. "Its not the comm's fault it can't work here. We all know that." The captain burst out in a grin. "Now, if you went and touched the grenade stash, that would be epic. It would be a big show."
"Hey!" Loser barked.
They burst out in laughter. "One touch and BOOM!" They joked.
Loser had a reputation for screwing up. He tried proposing to a girl once while on vacation early on in the war. He got run over by a steed that wasn't even native to the planet. He tried again and got hit by an asteroid. He throws a grenade, and it bounces off the enemy's face to come back at him. The only reason he hadn't died was he managed to throw it again. His rifles and pistols regurally go off without warning. His armor belts snap lose and a few times it had resulted in his pants falling. He has never won a single round of poker, dice, or luck related games. He manages to get a good hand, and his rival gets a royal flush straight. He rolls a six and there is an earthquake that causes it to roll to a one.
His nickname as well earned.
In the end, the Jedi Master had decided to station him primarily in inventory. He was good with numbers and calculation and keeping track of things. While his military prowess was comedic, his ability to manage a large scale inventory, keep track of every package, and keep them fully stocked and able to function even without supplies coming from the Republic, more than made up for it.
Without access to space travel they had to resort to trading regurally with the locals. They destroyed, sabatageud, and stole from the Confederacy factory and used that as trade. They had the option to destroy the factory completely, but their Jedi Master, Elestria, had a better idea. The enemy commander was dead. The droids were without direction. They were wild. They could destroy it, or, leave it to the locals to reprogram and use for their own defense. In the meantime the clone army would be stationed there and assist the locals.
And wait.
"I just wish we could get out of here eventually… its boring." Loser complained.
"Buck up, soldier." A voice replied. "Its not that bad. Enjoy the peace while it lasts."
Loser looked up to find their Jedi Master looking down on them. Elestria was a woman, and had all the traits expected of a good one. Gentle, compassionate, beautiful. He would even say sexy, but that would be sexual harassment, and she had long ago shown she only saw them all as friends and comrades.
"Y-yes maam." He stammered. His helmet kept his heavy blush from showing.
She smiled and moved on, having said a word or two to them. A commander could only spare so much time with each person. Didn't mean he didn't stare though. That ass…
"Don't touch that, Loser." His captain whispered in his earmic. "One touch and she'll break."
Loser tensed and turned away. "I-I don't know what you mean!" They laughed, and he put his head down in humiliation. It was that obvious wasn't it?
Well, it was hard not to. They were a group of a few hundred men and the only female he knew was their commander. The locals were aliens.
Damnit he needed a vacation…
Why were they even in a foxhole… the enemy was largely pacified. There were a few wild droids out there, but at this point it was mostly a formatility. It was about familiarity. Clones knew foxholes as well as any other home.
They had been here years, and that ended with the arrival of a new ship overhead.
They were all excited. The ship looked Republic although a bit different. It had a heavy greyish, predatory, tone to it, but the design was recognizable to an extent. Transports landed nearby and the battalian, Elestria, and some of the locals, assembled to greet them. Out popped clones wearing armor of an unusual design, and officers with shirts of a different design as well. They looked more sharp.
Loser didn't hear what was said, as he was in the back, but it looked heated. The man had some problem with them, and especially the sight of the Jedi. He yelled and pointed at her, and the weird clones raised their weapons. A full out battle sparked, as Loser and his comrades defended her, and each other.
There was little explanation. All Loser would learn is that the Jedi were considered terrorists, and they had failed to do their function at some point. It was all very confusing, they had no idea what these 'Imperials' were talking about.
They managed to fight back for a while, but then it rained hell. The enemy fired on them from orbit. Loser was knocked out by the shockwaves. When he came to, he found himself alone and broken. He had been burned by radiation to the point he couldn't recognize himself. The Empire trash that had opened fire on them had taken him and tried to reprocess him into being a clone like all the new ones batched out.
Loser grieved, and he resisted. When he was shoved into battle against Jedi, he would not open fire. He would not fight them. They beat him, and he defied them. They told him he was defective, and they were right. He no longer felt any compulsion to obey.
-Starkiller/Harbinger-
-Present-
Starkiller listened, and in a sense his feelings were mixed.
Were the man's tale right, then it was almost too easy. Starkiller had the sense that the Force was, almost literally, blessing his quest. He had always believed that Dark Side was his ally, and therefore the Force, but never had he felt as though assets were literally falling into his lap as much as this moment.
Were the man's tale wrong, then it was a kind of pathetic attempt at lieing and getting in league with him. Too pathetic and desperate really.
Harbinger put up a finger, "Will you excuse us a moment?"
"Certainly."
Harbinger leaned in close to Kota to avoid being listened in on, and while Kota stiffened very briefly with the sudden physical contact that came with it, he relaxed and didn't resist. "Do you sense him lieing?" He asked.
"No." Kota whispered back. "His feelings appear genuine, as is your distrust."
"Is it that obvious?"
"Understandable. However the feeling I am getting from him is that this opportunity is too good to be true, just as much as you think it is. He wants to work under a Jedi and to do some good, and he has been betrayed and sees the Empire for what it is, and suddenly one comes along. You want an army, and a band falls in your lap. In my opinion we can see how far he is willing to go with us."
Harbinger considered it. He couldn't sense the emotions of others as well as Kota. That was a more Jedi-ish skillset, while a Sith would take a very intrusive manner of achieving the same thing directly. Regardless, he trusted Kota so far as when it concerned their mutual goals, Kota was in charge of the army itself, and Kota seemed to trust him.
Harbinger turned back to Loser and extended his hand, "Alright, we can come to an arrangement."
"Glad to hear it." The former clone soldier shook his hand. Starkiller noticed immediately his hand was encased in a powered gauntlet. The tips of his fingers were clawed and he had an unusual device encased in his palm.
"Then allow me to be straightforward. Jedi Master Rahm Kota is my second in command. I am Harbinger, and I am raising an army with the primary objective to kill Lord Vader and Emperor Palpatine. My secondary objective is to destroy everything they have built. My arrangement with Kota is that he leads my army, dictates the rules of war, and decides how my objective is accomplished in return for it being done and me spear-heading the whole thing."
Loser stared at him, and from his increasingly lax posture, and lax jaw, Starkiller had the impression he was gaping and stunned. Hard to say with a man behind a mask and within a full suit of armor. Loser looked to Kota, and back to Harbinger, and back and forth again.
"Does that change something?" Harbinger tested him.
"Only a fool would not recognize the significance of such a statement." Was the awed response.
"Certainly true." Harbinger agreed. "However it makes it no less important, and now that you know of who I am and what I plan to do, we are left with two options: One. You join me. Two. I kill you, because I cannot risk you alerting the Empire and I take everything from you." Harbinger said it in absolute frankness. Lord Vader would have been proud.
Loser glared at him. "I do not appreciate being threatened."
"Its not a threat. As a smuggler, I am sure you understand that secrets have a price."
"Indeed." Loser sighed. "Well, I asked for it, and I am actually looking to give the Empire some good old fashioned payback."
Harbinger nodded. "How shall we contact you?"
Loser pulled out his hand-held and presented a number to them. Harbinger memorized it. "It's my private channel. Or you can provide me with one of your own. I am available whenever you need me."
"We will be in touch." Kota said.
Harbinger turned to leave with Kota, but Loser spoke up kindly, "Oh, one last thing. A word of advice: Be careful who you threaten."
"Oh?" Harbinger turned to look in curiousity, to find Loser had raised a hand to point his palm at him. Harbinger raised an eyebrow, but otherwise wasn't concerned. What was he going to do? Hit him? Did he have some personal laser on him? It was nothing he couldn't block.
Then the blast door behind them exploded, followed by the next two blast doors after that all the way down the hall until all that was left was a gaping hole. Starkiller felt himself shiver. Loser's gauntlet sparked in electricity and he lowered his hand.
-Later-
"Do we have the security in place to prevent risks if he is just very good at lieing?" Harbinger asked. They had returned to their shuttle and were returning to base. PROXY did loops and laps around aimlessly while stopping to check for tracking bugs, just incase.
Kota 'hmm'd. "Depends on whether you want him as an ally on your cabinet or a lower asset. He knows of me. The only secret I know of that would be higher is your identity."
"I want him to work his way up. Falon I trust where he is, partially because I know how the gesture has an impression on you. But Loser doesn't have that going for him. I want him to work solo, yet for our benefit."
"If he is below the cabinet, then my structure will mean his access to information is restricted and he will only know what we specifically tell him. The same with his missions."
"Good, then we are on the same wavelength." Harbinger removed his mask and breathed in crisp filtered starship air. It lacked a lot of smells. He felt himself miss Kashyyyk momentarily. It was a pleasant place full of interesting sounds, smells, and sights. If he ever ended up there again, he would allow himself a moment to relish in it again. Starship air was utterly tasteless.
"Here is what I am thinking: Raid the empire or pull our guys off Nar Shadaa." Harbinger mused.
Kota shook his head. "Bad idea. Our boys might need to stay. I've had time to think about it more, and what happens here is more important than ever."
"Okay, what do you have in mind then?" Starkiller sat down in the co-pilot seat and spun around to face the blind Jedi. Kota snapped his fingers three times up in the air and opened his hand, and Jowwarr rolled his big Wookie eyes and left. Starkiller could only watch in confusion as the Wookie returned with a bottle of liquer and placed it in Kota's open hand. Kota took it like it was the most casual thing in the world and uncorked it.
"Nar Shadaa is the gate-way into the Cartel. We can't let the Empire go further into Hutt ter-"
"Do you seriously have my Wookie on command?" Starkiller asked in amazement. He hadn't really moved past that yet.
"Yes." Kota tossed the cork over his shoulder, inadvertiedly hitting Jowwarr in the shoulder, tipped his drink back, and took a gulp. He took multiple gulps, gasped when he finally came up for air, and cleared his throat. "Now, the center of Hutt Space is the two planets Nal Hutta and Nar Shaddaa. Both are in the same system, so the Empire has both. The next system of importance is Ylesia, and that one is still owned by the Hutts. Now, our latest information points to the Hutts and Empire both setting up for some skirmishing. Nothing more than a few assault frigates. However, skirmishes are just little bites to see where the weakness is that they can exploit. Both sides are preparing for something much larger, I feel it in my bones."
"So we go to Ylesia and do something or?"
"No, I just say this so you understand the field of war. Ylesia is deeper in Hutt space, but the twin system of Nal Hutta and Nar Shaddaa is the singular most important system in all of Hutt space because it access the four major interstellar roads within Hutt space. From there you have access to every corner of their territory. The Empire can strike at Rorak, Circumtore, Hosko, Du Hutta, and they already own Kleeva. They can hit anywhere from one place, while the Hutts have to go more round-a-bout to get reinforcements to the same places."
Kota took another set of gulps. "Now, where we sit right is in the middle of deep space between Hosko, Rorak, and Diyu (which is further down the road than Rorak). This area of deep space also borders M'Hanna, Tisht, Varl, Ylesia, and Poytta. Suffice to say there are a LOT of pirates here, and the Hutts know that. My best guess is that the Hutts are going to take advantage by either hiring every pirate in between these nine systems to go after the Empire or they will funnel their own forces through to have a guerrilla war. Because this one area of deep space borders Nar Shadaa as well and two of t three roads the Empire can take to go into the very heart of Hutt Space. If they try to go after Du Hutta, they will take a sizable chunk from the Hutts, but then it will be only a minor victory compared to the real prizes and real strategy." Kota smiled. "And I know the high command has a thing for going after the big prize."
Starkiller nodded. He tried absorbing everything Kota said, but it only went to show how far above him the old man was in thinking that he could only barely follow. "You think we should be hired by the Hutts and pretend to local pirates?"
"Hmm…" Kota mused. "Wasn't thinking that, but it will help boost us up to be sponsored for a short time, and we have a contact now. We can definietely take advantage of the Hutts…" Kota looked away in thought. "My thought was actually to have Loser hunt down the local pirates and force them to join him, and thereby increase our army, but your idea actually sounds better. Yes… We can use that. Contacts, supplies, a sponsor, and if the Empire catches wind of you then we will just appear to be small fries… yes. Very interesting thought."
Starkiller blanked. "I… actually wasn't thinking any of that. I was just following your train of thought. You said they might try to hire us."
Kota chuckled. "Sometimes we come up with something smart by accident too."