Zaalbar:
It was amazing that the price of this meat was below that of fresh vegetables. It made me wonder fleetingly what the creature had been prior to lunch. I took a bite and pushed those thoughts from my mind.
Mission sat across from me in the Bek's kitchen. She had already finished eating and was staring off into space, bored. The way she picked at her meal, like a fickle tach, was not healthy for one so young.
If I could bring her back to Kashyyyk, one of the den mothers would help raise Mission properly. But those days were gone. I would never step foot on that planet again.
Mission sighed. The child was a fidgety thing. I finished my meal with a hasty gulp and turned to her.
"Let's do something, Big Z." she said. Immediately, I could see the sparks behind her large eyes.
"What are you suggesting?" I asked warily.
Mission grinned. "Let's head to the Undercity. Let's see if we can capture a Rakghoul."
"How can you think of something so foolish?" I growled.
Mission's smile only grew wider. "Fine, stay here and sulk." she said. "I'll just have to go by myself."
Mission sauntered out of the kitchen. I groaned. I took one last look at my lunch plate before standing up. I grudgingly tromped after her.
Mission was waiting outside of the kitchen door. She offered a casual wave at my scowl. "I figured you'd want to tag along." she said.
"If something should happen to you," I rumbled. "because I was having more lunch instead of being with you, I wouldn't be able to eat a meal again."
Mission patted my stomach. "And we couldn't let that happen, could we, Big Z?" she laughed.
I followed as closely behind as possible. Mission's graceful form deftly wove in and out of alleyways, through streets, behind dumpsters, constantly snaking around corners. I was too old for this nonsense.
I lost track of her, she was too fast. Mission desperately needed a den mother to lock her in a learning nursery until she was at least twenty. She was far too mischievous and had no respect for the wroshyr trees.
But Mission was my cub. My honor family. She was the only person to believe in me. To view me as something other than a beast. I would not desecrate that fragile faith.
A slender blue hand glided out from a corner. Laughter, like silver bells echoed the hand's beckoning. Far too impish.
"Come on, slow-poke!" she cried.
I cautiously crept towards the alleyway. Mission lunged at me, twining her fingers around the thick hair of my stomach. She proceeded to drag me to a sewer opening.
"Mission, it's wet down there!" I moaned.
Mission crinkled her nose and giggled. "Oh no! I'm going to be stuck with wet Wookiee smell!" Her eyes sparkled as she starting climbing the ladder into the sewer.
I sighed, resigned and followed her. There was a part of me that admired her madness, I think.
In the sewers, Mission was jumping in puddles. When she realized I was watching her, she stiffened. Mission brought her foot down softly away from a puddle and glanced down the concrete corridor.
"Hey, Big Z?" Her small voice reverberated in the empty sewer. "What happens if we run into any Rakghouls?"
"Rakghouls are strong, but they're stricken with madness." I grunted. "You have your wits; I expect you'll use them."
"Yeah, I guess you're right." Mission shrugged. She ran a finger over some piping and grimaced at the slime that had collected.
Mission scurried down into the catacombs of the sewer. She disappeared from my sight again, but all I had to do was follow the laughter to find her.
I diligently trailed her. Such an energetic child, I wish I knew of a way to rein her in without crushing her admirable spirit.
My heart leapt to my throat when I heard her scream. If something had happened to her I would never forgive myself. I ran after Mission, my toenails making frantic clicks on the concrete.
Gamorreans. Mission was on her knees, staring defiantly at the pig-men. There were eight of them surrounding her, their snouts twitching in greedy anticipation. Slavers.
A Gamorrean reached a hand for her lekku and I roared. Startled, he jerked back and glared at me. I charged the Gamorreans, grabbing one and throwing him at his comrades.
Mission looked dazed, frozen, staring at me and her would-be captors. I saw her small hands fumbling for a dagger in her belt. I hoisted her to her feet by the collar of her vest.
"Run!" I ordered.
The girl looked like she was going to argue. I snarled over her protests. "Run!" I repeated.
Mission gave a hesitant nod at the urgency in my voice and fled deep into the maze of sewer ways.
One of the attackers turned to follow her. I broke his face with my fist. The Gamorrean squealed before his body hit the dank ground. I knew the price for something as desired as an unsullied Twi'lek girl on the slave market. They would not have her.
A Gamorrean let loose a shrill call. An alarm. In the distance I heard feet tromping through the muck, coming closer. So they were going to try to outnumber and swarm me?
Four leapt towards me at once. I lashed out. An arm swung out there, a fist cracking down here; for every foot that missed its mark, an elbow would make up for it.
Something stabbed my arm. A dart. I tore it from my triceps and roared. It was drugged. I could feel my arm already tingling with numbness.
I needed to give Mission time to escape. I felt the slavers' hands on me. I turned abruptly and drove my teeth into a random forearm. I tasted the putrid blood on my tongue as I tore a chunk of flesh off. I spat it in another Gammorean's face. I was becoming the beast they thought I was.
As my body became more and more sluggish, I became desperate. I unsheathed my claws and struck. Madclaw. I deserved the title. A raging animal and nothing more.
But Mission was free. Such a purposeful, yet ignoble act. Salt tears burned my eyes as I welcomed blackness.
