Chapter 1 : Me, late ?
My name is Eidan Hopkick. Yeah, I know, that last name smells worse than fried circuits with three-months-old cheese that stayed all this time in a bottle of Tarisian ale on them. And believe me I have smelt it. Once or twice. I even ate some of the cheese because of a bet. Which I won by the way. But I digress.
I go by the nickname 'Firefly'. That, at least, I can choose.
Anyway, to the point.
I'm currently walking through a spaceport of some sort with all of my meagre belongings in a backpack (also mine) and dressed in a ridiculous-looking uniform (not mine obviously). Leave it to the Republic to find the most horrible colours in the universe, then stitch them together in a very unpractical way and, believe it or not, succeed in creating something even worse. I'm suddenly glad that I don't own a mirror and that I'm the only Republic recruit in the near vicinity (I might actually have to look at them ! Ugly thought). Speaking of which, it occurs to me that this people-empty spaceport is somewhat odd, considering I'm supposed to embark on a Republic starship in...actually ten minutes and thirty-two seconds ago. And it has been pointed out to me that this mission was really important, not the ordinary patrol so dull that counting the number of screws on the walls is actually exciting !
Of course, I don't know that from experience, only from what other recruits have told me when they were off-duty and away from their commanders. You know what they say : avoid the rear of a spaceship and the front of an officer at all costs. Should you fail, even praying won't save you. A Jedi might, but it isn't said that you're better off that way. Jedi often have menial work to force on poor non-sensitives who just happened to be minding their own business in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Like me.
Now, I'm not complaining. I never complain, I always do my best to stay chipper and enthusiastic. But still, did they have to force me into their Fleet ? It's a steady position, with actual salary and whatnot, I'll give them that. Yet I'm not sure this way of life is fitting for me, I mean, when you're a scout who occasionally does some...let's call it supply delivery, to keep himself afloat, why would anyone think that you belong in the most strict environment there is, namely military ? Did I give the impression that I wanted to be berated because of my less-than-perfect attire or non-regulation haircut ?
Sometimes, my best just isn't enough, is it ?
I stop my inner musings because my only friend in the world suddenly manifests himself and wants my full attention. I take him out of my utility belt (mine of course, did you really think that they would give me anything useful ? Well, they didn't.) and look at him.
«Hey there Chip, I wave at him cheerfully. What's up ?
-Hello, luminescent bug, Chip replies with his usual cockiness. You may want to know that you're late for work !
-You don't say.
-I do indeed, and I furthermore state that, should you follow this corridor, you will arrive at your destination in two minutes and a number of seconds depending on whether your shoelaces are tied with a single or a double knot.
-I don't have shoelaces.
-Drat ! Now I have to start all over again !
-Life's tough, bro, don't you forget it.
-And what are the odds of that, I ask you ?
-So low that a piece of paper couldn't crawl under it.
-Indeed. Now I suggest that you do what you do best.
-Do you mean hack into an unsuspecting terminal or laugh maniacally like any respectable mastermind ? Because I don't see how any of these activities are relevant in this situation.
-I meant : run. Otherwise you might get fired without even starting your first day. Unless that is your master-plan to evade your new position ?
-What was your first clue ?
-Need I remind you that they have enough material to put you behind bars for a total of two hundred and seventy-four years, one month and eighteen days ?
-You can be really annoying sometimes, do you know that ?
-I do.
-Fine, but you'll have to back me up with some really epic music in order to motivate me.
-Agreed.»
Chip's a great guy. Unless his batteries are down, you can rely on him in absolutely all circumstances. Not like organic species. I believe that everything that in its original state contains water cannot be trusted (including food and the ocean). Yeah, Chip's a computer. My computer, which I built from scratch, programmed, taught to think, to speak, to tease, to hack, and so on and so forth - you get the idea. He never stabbed me in the back, which is more than I can say about any of my former acquaintances. Plus he can sing lullabies. Best friend ever.
Anyway as soon as the first notes of The Bantha Race resonate on the walls I start sprinting as if my life depended on it. Which is unpleasantly close to the truth. Luckily I'm a top-of-the-class athlete so I get to the docking bay where my ship is stationed without breaking a sweat.
Sure enough, they are still here. And when I see that...unwavering incompetence, well...I suddenly know why the Republic is on the losing side. The uniforms were bad enough, the colors themselves would be motive for murder. But this ? I'm not an expert, but when they want to get some cargo on the ship, shouldn't they, you know, try to get the blasted cargo on the ship ?! I mean look at them, scratching their heads at the problem of fitting a crate into the main hold when said crate is obviously too large for the hole. Would it kill them to turn the damn crate ? Or those two, arguing in two different languages about some regulations when it's apparent that they have absolutely no idea what the other is blabbering about. Oh, look, there's a third one who will attempt to help the situation...and we have a another moron ladies and gentlemen, congratulations !
I swear, the first chance I get, I'm out of here.
Nevertheless, optimism is still allowed as I haven't seen an officer from my department yet. Which is communications in case you were wondering. I'll be on the bridge, which is good, I won't have to do any actual shooting, which is reassuring, and all I'll really do is listen to a radio and rely informations, translate occasionally and...observe life revolving all around me ! I sure hope that someone from the crew will be interesting. And if not...there's still Chip and me. I'll make the trip exciting if need be.
That's a promise.
Oh hey, there are some grumpy looking Jedi over there. I don't think I mentioned that this mission has been ordered by the Jedi Order. Apparently a top-secret journey of some sort, I'm guessing we're escorting someone very important. Ah, there she is. Naturally, who else than Bastila Shan, the prodigy padawan, the Republic's one and only chance to win the war against the Sith, blah blah blah. Younger than I expected, she's barely an adult. But then when you're a Jedi, you grow up fast. Almost as fast as when you're on the street of a really hostile planet. Anyway, this 'prodigy' looks quite normal for a Jedi; she's got dark hair tied in a bun (like most Jedi, it doesn't get in the way when they fight with their glow sticks) a brown robe, an average frame and delicate features. She holds herself up, I suppose that's what she was taught in order to look all intimidating yet mysterious, just to say «I'm really powerful so leave me alone or you'll be missing limbs so fast you won't be able to plead for your miserable non-sensitive life». And those people are supposed to be the good guys. Gives you some perspective, doesn't it ?
Anyway, I know I'm in trouble when she spots me and frowns. I try to act as if I haven't seen her and do my best to fit-in with the rest of the dumba- I mean crew.
She doesn't buy it.
«May I ask why you haven't checked-in yet with the other recruits ?» she asks in a melodious yet annoyed voice.
I decide to play dumb, and go as far as butchering my flawless grammar.
«Gee, I'm real sorry miss Jedi. But ya must've me confused with some other guy. See I've just been sent here to see if everything's alright.
-Do not take me for a fool, I know that you are lying, she snaps.
-Oh come on, I ain't lyin' to you, who'd be dumb enough to lie to a powerful Jedi like you ? Everyone knows Jedi can sense the truth !
-Well you apparently. And so I must demand that you go immediately check-in with your officer. What's your name ?»
Drat, I'm done for. At least she doesn't seem to want to chop my body parts off yet, so that's a bonus.
«The name's Eidan Hopkick, but call me Firefly, you'll see it's much better.
-Hopkick you say ? she raises an eyebrow whilst I grit my teeth. You are from the communications department, aren't you ?
-Don't tell me you've memorized every personnel file of this crew, I mutter.
-I'm afraid you'll have to behave better than this if you don't want to end up in the brig, she comments off-handedly. Go to Sergeant Swan, she's your commanding officer. She should be on the bridge.»
Oh joy, now I don't even have the excuse of getting lost.
«Your will is my command, I croak in a subdued tone. After all, it's not like I didn't volunteer for this magnificent job, is it ?
-Get moving, or I'll see to it that you'll be assigned to maintenance with only a toothbrush in guise of tools !
-Springing into action, flying to my destination, got it great Jedi !»
I vanish before she has the time to abuse of her rank against me. Jogging through the corridors, I take out an earpiece and plug it in. Said earpiece links me to Chip, safely tugged in my belt.
«Hey Chip ? I need you to do me a favor.
-Only if it consists of hacking, I don't feel up to anything else, he answers.
-Lucky me, it is hacking !
-Good, let's have it then.
-I'd appreciate it if you could access - discreetly of course - service records of all personnel and modify some facts here and there, possibly mix them. I'm aiming at pissing them off, but also at masking some of the modifications I want you to make. Don't touch the backups except for mine. I can't change my name anymore, that's sad, but I can still confuse things, create a fake identity. Twist slightly all sensitive info, particularly about my shady background, make up some trivia to fill in the blanks, but don't be too extravagant. Stick close enough to the general story and memorize the changes you made - lock them away in a safe file - and if possible, use the same wording. Am I making sense ?
-To me, yes, fortunately. Basically, you want to destroy the advantage the Republic has over you ?
-Exactly.
-And create more chaos in the Republic than it needs.
-Pretty much, yes. Serves them right for forcing me into this.
-And what's in it for me ?
-Apart from me having a debt to you and the opportunity to show off your amazing skills, you mean ?
-Obviously.
-How about a full review and an upgrade of your choice ?
-Hum, I must say that a new motion detector would be nice. And a substance analyser.
-I said one, can't you count ?
-You didn't, you said 'an' which, granted, does suggest 'one', but the two words share only one letter. I see your point though and I'll go with the detector please.
-How do you expect me to get the kind of money for that ?
-You'll manage. You built me after all, and the most expensive object you owned at the time were your shoes.
-Point taken. Alright, I'll see what I can do.
-So will I. Don't bother me for about four hours if you want me to succeed.
-Fine. Good luck !
-Thank you. Be silent.»
See what I meant about his reliability ? I get the earpiece out and put it in my belt. I'm on my own now. Here's the bridge. I steel myself for the upcoming storm and stroll in with a calm confidence. I'm not grinning like an idiot, which I would on normal circumstances, that would be like painting a target on my chest and running towards an army of angry Mandalorians while shouting «Mandalore is a whore !». Well, maybe not that bad. But only slightly.