Chapter 2 : Heroes with Razor Sharp Teeth
1:01 AM (GTS)
Undisclosed Location
We called the mission a success. He is dead, and we're not graded for gracefulness, accuracy or cleverness. Just getting the job done. It's who we are.
Anyways we went back to our little hideout, located in the industrial section of the city. It's not a nice place but we don't complain. The sky's colorful here, even if it's toxic. Gidget's really the only one that can get used to living here. Being born on Raxus Prime, she's born with a certain tolerance towards toxicity in the air. Seriously, that planet is like one big junkyard. How you can live there, I've no idea.
Sitting on a small box, I stare at my friends inhaling from Deathsticks, the best way to have a good time at your mind's expense.
Now, don't give me any nonsense about how I should stop them. I tried and failed in that category. I'd like to see you try to talk a former slave girl, a man with no sympathy for himself or others, and a teenage girl just jumping into that rebellious phase out of using narcotics.
If you weren't thinking that, and were thinking of something more along the lines of "Why am I not joining them?" Well, it's simple. I've been down that road, don't want to do it again.
I tell you, those were the worst years of my life. Those things are absolute murder on your ability to comprehend things. When I became a full-blown junkie, there were no lines or shapes or detail. There was only color. Good for depression, bad for reality. Withdrawal was the worst part, though. I kept losing my hair, and purging my guts out. That really blows because my hair and my figure are my best qualities. I'd flex and show you right now, but I don't wanna rip my shirt.
No one stays long enough to get to know my personality. They usually end up leaving by morning or dead for profit.
And speaking of profits, how do people who make a living turning in figures for figures end up living in a spit-hole like this? Simple: They blow all their profits on food, deathsticks and weapons. I believe the phrase is "The best way to win an argument is to be the loudest." No one said anything about having extra chances of victory in your back pockets.
And the deathsticks, Rhea and Scope can head down that road if they want to. It's their decision. But I worry about Gidget. She's too young. If she heads down that road now, it'll utterly destroy her life. I don't want to see that poor girl out on the streets begging for food and stealing money for drugs.
Yep, just think of us as rock stars. We don't play music, but we do have instruments. We have drugs and we're dysfunctional. We're menaces to society and we play a song. That song is entitled "How Much Are You Worth?" Right now, though, the song is called "How Much Are We Worth?"
Sad, isn't it?
"Sure you don't want a blow?" The sudden sounding voice spurs me from my thoughts. It's Scope, and he's looking at me with dilated pupils and a bloody nose, probably from inhaling so much stuff.
"No thanks." I answer back with a soft tone. Everyone gives me a vague expression of surprise, not because I refused, but because I sound rather down. I know I do. All that over-thinking is not easy, or fun.
With a stroke of luck, I'm saved for explaining when I hear a rap at our door. Out here, visitors are rare and usually end up being people with worst lives than ours. We just send them on their way with less than what they came for.
That was not the case, today.
Instead, what I found when I opened the door were two men dressed in makeshift armor. I could see their faces, which meant they weren't Empire. It only meant one thing...
"POLICE!" I yelled against my better judgment. "THEY FOUND US! HIDE THE DRUGS!" I commanded my team. I could hear them freaking out and scuffling about down there. I was prepared to run down, grab my blaster and turn this into one of those late night crime shows where the trash of society is always beaten down and arrested. At least we'll get to be on holo while we're being turned in...
"Calm down, kid. We're not police."
"Empire?" I questioned.
"Nope."
"Then you must be more factory workers trying to take back their place of work. Well, beat it, or we'll cost more property damage."
"Property damage?" One, a young women, asked.
"We don't kill innocent people... unless you have a price on your head. In which case, wait here. I'll go get my blaster."
"Wait." The other, a guy who looks double my age, spoke. "We're only here to talk."
"About what?" I ask, getting pretty suspicious. I then notice a symbol on the man's shoulder guard. Not one I've ever seen before. Looks like a crude drawling of a burning fire or something like that. If it's supposed to be inspirational, it's not doing a very good job.
"What symbol is that? Never seen it before." I look to see them both giving me faces drenched in seriousness.
"That's what we want to talk about."
"So let me get this straight: There's people like you on every planet in the Inner Rim?" Questions Alea, after we were given the full story about this "Rebel Alliance." I'm not really sure to think about this. I mean I hadn't expected to live under Empire rule forever, but this seems a little to much like a folk tale.
"Almost every planet. We plan to expand outside to the Outer Rim, too." Speaks Dakk, a fighter pilot.
"How?"
"It only takes one snowflake to start an avalanche." Speaks Cleone, the young girl/engineer and Spy, with pride.
"Like that makes any sense." Scope whispers into my ear. There's a small bit of silence before Gidget speaks up.
"What do you do?"
"The Alliance is gonna take a stand against the Empire!" Spoke Cleone, who got a little too passionate about her work.
"What she means is: We're going to organize the planets and their governments against the Empire's rule and bring it down, if not one step at a time." We're all a little tongue twisted about that. A group a rag-tag rebels taking down the most powerful force in the Galaxy?
"Listen," Alea finally speaks. "Not to be a downer about this, but don't you think this is a bit of a child's dream?" They look at each other, a bit discouraged. "I mean, we don't like the Empire. We hate them. It just doesn't seem like something we want to get involved with. We hope you understand."
"We do." Pleaded Dakk. "But you must understand that this situation is not going away by itself, and is only going to get worse. First they rule over us with support from others, then it's fear. Pretty soon, they'll build that 'Death Star' of theirs." Scope scoffs at the idea and dismisses it with his hand.
"Please, that thing's just a rumor. Oh, no. They're gonna destroy my home planet with a giant floating space ball." He mocks, acting all frightened. I couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Maybe they can call on the Force to turn people into zombies."
The Force. I've never been a believer, and after the rise of the Empire, I'm sure others have lost their faith, too. Dakk and Cleone seem to be believers, since a look of offense appears on their faces after Scopes last remark. I hit him on the shoulder as if to say "Don't go there." After muttering something to each other, Dakk speaks with a tone laced with certainty.
"I assume none of you believe in the Force?" No one speaks up.
"Never had a mind for believing in higher powers." Scope says. "Sorry, but I find it hard to believe that someone can become all-powerful due to some unseen entity. Too weird."
"Perhaps you'd like proof? Maybe you'd believe if you saw a Jedi firsthand." Says Cleone, with a cocky grin on her face.
"You know one?" Cries Gidget, getting excited, and probably for no good reason. Cleone responds by dumbing down her voice as if Gidget was a child.
"Yep. Want to meet her?" Gidget nods with a huge grin on her face.
"We'd actually like all of you to come." States Dakk.
"Sure." I answer. Everyone looks at me. "I'd like to meet her. She seems like a very ideological person."
"Then let's head out."
After a ride out of Industrial, we cut into one of the more classier districts of the city, where many of the buildings are more business-oriented rather than used for living arrangements. The skyline itself is beautiful. It's around 3 AM, so the moon is around it's highest peak. In the sky, it reflects off the tall, looming buildings which themselves are already lit up with checkered spots coming from windows.
It's an awe inspiring sight, and it's one of the many reasons I love living on Coruscant.
We finally park the speeders outside of what looks like a warehouse/office. Compared to the rest of the skyscrapers here, it's pretty insignificant looking. Won't attract attention for someone who doesn't want to be noticed. Now that's good business strategy.
The Inside's a different story: The warehouse is chock full of people wearing the same makeshift clothing that our two friends are wearing doing multiple means of training from target practice, explosives, learning weapon maintenance and sparring. Really, I've never seen such a dedicated group of fighters in my life. If they really do go up against the Empire, it'll be easy to respect them, that's for damn sure.
"She's on the floor above us." Dakk, breaking my thought train, tells us. I look over my team to find them dumbstruck at the site before them.
"Wow," Scope is the first to express any kind of opinion "And here I thought you were joking about all this."
"This is impressive." Says Alea. "You say there are multiple fractions of you on each planet in the Inner Rim? You may actually have a chance." She smiles gently, must be happy of the fact that the Empire might actually fall.
Gidget doesn't say anything. Instead she tries to absorb the sight seen through her tinted goggles.
Passing through the training zone, a few bid us "Hello" or "Welcome." One actually said, "Welcome to where it's all gonna start." That thought wouldn't leave my head. Seems kind of double meaning to me. This could be the beginning of a new order, or the end of all free spirits.
How very dark.
Riding an elevator, we reach the top floor. It, décor-wise, is radically different from the floor below. With fancy furniture and exotic decorations, it looks almost like a Banker's office. A leather chair behind a desk is turned to face the rain covered window behind it. Wait, when did it start raining?
"Commander, we have them." The chair turned, but the shadows covered most of her. As she stepped out of the shadows, I could see her a little clearly. She looked about as old as me, around 25-ish. She wore a form fitting leather jumpsuit, which looked designed for combat complete with a skirt split down the middle of each front and a knife holster on her right arm. I eventually saw her face. First thing I noticed were her eyes. Her face may have shown no emotion, but those icy blue pools screamed contempt and hatred. When she stepped out into view, she put a hand on a curved hip and looked me up and down, then looked at my mates. Upon completing her evaluation, she looked back at me with some kind of glare. Couldn't really tell what it was. Whatever it was, it was completed with a most unladylike scoff.
"So you're the famous Space Dogs?" She spoke in a voice that sent chills down my spine. It sounded like a voice that once had so much emotion in it, but now was nothing but a hollow sound. Her piercing eyes managed to cut my tongue, and made me feel like a small child asking his mother if he can play with fire. No matter what her answer would be "no."
'Don't let her intimidate you, Brutus. Remember your silver tongue.'
"So it would seem." I spoke back almost immediately. I held out my hand, in hopes of making some kind of formality, and made a grin that I hoped had said "I have just met you, and I still don't trust you, but let's try to make it work." She actually shook back, so that meant something.
"Brutus Bane." I introduced myself.
"Ahsoka Tano." She introduced back, rather coldly. While we shook hands, I noticed something on her belt. Something where it wasn't hard to figure out what it was: A lightsaber.
"You're a Jedi." I pointed out. She stopped shaking and looked at me as if I insulted her right in the face. I probably did.
"I was." Was all she said before she turned around. She leans against the desk in a rather surprisingly informal manner. "Not anymore."
"But that is a Jedi's weapon, right?" I say, pointing at her saber. She pulls it off her belt, looks at it, then me.
"How do you know I didn't kill a Jedi and take it?" She says, in a sickly sweet manner. I think she was joking, but I didn't see her crack any smile.
"From what I hear, it's pretty hard to kill a Jedi."
She's silent for a minute, looking at her saber. I finally hear her whisper, "If only that were true."
Seems like this conversation is taking a toll on her, so for her sake (and mine) I change it to what I really want to know:
"So why are we here?"
"By choice." She says, giving me a look as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Didn't you come because you volunteered?"
"I don't know. I sort of felt an obligation when we were invited. Like your lives depended on it."
She looked irritated, probably not liking my tone.
"You're here because you've been killing off Empire supporters." We have?
"We have?" I hear behind me. It's Scope, just as confused as I am.
"Well... yes. We thought you did it as a job. Each of your targets over the last month have been people who have been advocate supporters of the Empire. Like Luz Dimmina."
"The big gang lord?" I question, trying to get my facts straight. "We killed him because we were hired to. A rival wanted to make sure his gang was ruler of that district, or at least we assumed that's what is was. We honestly didn't know he supported the Empire. And even if we did, it wouldn't matter. We don't have standards. We just do what we're paid to do. Don't ask questions. That's the bounty hunting code."
Ahsoka seems to have a hard time comprehending all this.
"Bounty Hunters? That's what you are?" I nod, and her face goes from emotionless to spiteful. She turns to face the window.
"I hate Bounty Hunters." She curses under her breath. She probably didn't mean for anyone to hear it, but I did. And I'll tell you right now: I'm offended.
"Now, there's no need to be a bitch." I put extra emphasis on the last word. Now she's offended. She turns around and walks up to me, eye-level.
"Don't call me that. You're the ones who's caused me so much pain in my life, so much trouble for the Jedi. You're all evil little bastards." There's so much tension in this room that I can feel the people behind me getting nervous.
"We don't take sides. We only do business for the highest bidder. Perhaps if your Jedi friends actually bothered to pay-"
"Jedi don't work with the likes of you."
"Perhaps they should've let them. Sounds to me like we kicked your peace-loving ass." I chuckle tauntingly at her. She's getting steamed, so much it sounds like her sharp intakes of breath made in attempt to calm herself sound like feral growls. She gives me a good long look at my smirking face before saying this next phrase.
"You. Are. All. Scum." She growls, with so much venom in her voice her breath might as well be toxic. She spits on my shirt, my favorite shirt, and walks towards her desk. I've never been one to lose my temper, instead I rely on my words being my weapon. By the look of her stance, she's trying to calm herself. I take this opportune moment to strike while the iron is hot.
"Hostility? Oh, wouldn't you master not like at that?" That struck a nerve in her. Whatever she was holding, a pen or something, snapped in two. At first, I congratulate myself for my success in pissing her off. As she shakes in anger, however, I slowly begin to regret my decision. Hearing this doesn't help:
"Oh, boy." Mutters Dakk.
"What?" asks Gidget, natural curious of the situation unfolding before her.
"Your friend just said something he shouldn't have." Gidget actually smiles and rubs her hands together.
"Ooo, drama-bomb!" That's how much my team cares for me.
I come to realize that I may be, may be, screwed. She is a Jedi. She could decapitate me with one swipe of her lightsaber or throw me out the window using the Force. She may even hack me apart with her bare hands. Didn't think it would end this way.
She turns and walks up to me, leaving her saber on the desk. I'm sweating bullets as she walks up. She no longer looks ticked, but she's struggling. She stops inches away from my face.
"I just want you to know," She speaks rather calmly, which is making me nervous. "We, of the Jedi lifestyle, do not approve the use of aggression, violence or anything of the sort." I breath a sigh of relief, but it's instantly dissipated when she cracks a sinister grin revealing razor-sharp teeth.
"Good thing the Jedi are dead." All hope for a civilized conversation is lost when she pounces on me like a wild animal and proceeds to beat me with unusually strong punches.
I don't like hitting girls, but considering how savage of a fights she's putting on, I really don't have a choice. I try swinging back but she manages to dodge it and sinks her teeth into my arm. Damn! That hurts! Her teeth feel like a razor saw and are digging into my flesh almost to the bone. Gonna have a scar by the time this is done.
"YOU'RE BITING MY ARM!" I scream. Gratefully, she lets go and I manage to hold her back with my knee.
"THAT'S 'CAUSE I CAN'T REACH YOUR NECK!" She screeches. The thought of her tearing out my jugular with her own teeth does not fit well with me, so I manage to get my boot to her chest and kick her back. She stumbles to the desk. I manage to get to my feet, despite the pain. I, for one, am sore. Her hitting, which is scary strong, must have broken something. I ready to jump out, but she's ready to go another round. Guess that's her Tortuga side showing. She charges but is held back by both Dakk and Cleone. At the same time, Scope and Alea jump in front of me, ready to fight. They really do care.
Ahsoka, miraculously, manages to calm down. She looks at me with brooding fury.
"Get out." And just like that her hot blood went as cold as ice. "Now."
Wanting to avoid another fight, I straighten myself up, dust off my shirt, and walk away. My team follows me out. As I steal one last look at Ahsoka, I see the same face. I think I saw a tear leak out of one of her eyes, but it could've been my imagination.