Note: Not much to say really.
Have fun! :D
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even the clothes on my back.
Episode 10 - Fatass and Meatbags Part 2/3
By the Force, how could one man have such a knack at first impressions?
Curses were a funny thing to Anakin. He never put much stock in them. Sure, he heard of the pagan rituals the Sand People, and he even lost his mother to one, but they did nothing.
Another funny curse he grew up with was "When you have children, they will be as horrible as you!" by his mother. Usually this curse was following him having done something bad, like blowing up a robot in his bedroom at midnight. Or the time he was messing with his podracer, screwed up, and set off every siren in the city.
He had no children, so this curse was nothing.
A third curse he recalled was where his Master went, "Keep doing stunts like that, and the Force will give you somebody just as bad as you just to get you to listen to me when I say 'DON'T!'…" Which usually followed him doing really stupid things that nearly gets himself killed, and everyone else in the process. Like setting off every single alarm in the Confederacy base.
This curse came true in his first padawan, Ahsoka Tano. She was an exact copy of himself, almost born of this curse in retrospect. She never listened, she ran off alone at the first sign of advantage instead of thinking first, and she took far more than she could chew. After a while he thought he got it out of her for the most part, and in so doing, himself. He was still wild and rediculas and filled with loose energy, but only when he flipped a switch in himself. He had learned to be calm first, see the situation, and then flip the switch and go nuts.
They had a system. They go on missions. She wants to do things beyond her abilities or doesn't look at the big picture of a battle, he tells her no, they argue, she does it anyway with or without his knowledge, and on and on. Over time, they both calmed down and were able to work together almost fluidly, combining their chaotic overflow of energy into a powerful offensive focus. The recklessness decreased, but the adrenaline rushes were still no less satisfying when plans were executed properly. He thought that was the end of it. But no, the Force has to have a sense of humor.
Now he gets woken up by the back end of a rifle to the nose and finds twenty guns pointed at his head.
"Varus." Anakin concluded immediately, and said slowly. "What did you do?" He sees he doesn't have his saber, so he puts his hands up. Last thing they should be doing is ticking off a bunch of sand people with guns on them. Both of his Padawans didn't have their sabers either. That was just great.
"I can't help but notice you immediately assume I did something!"
"Varus?" Anakin repeated.
"Nothing."
"If you count waking up, screaming, and punching their doctor in the face 'nothing'." Ahsoka sighed.
"He was stabbing me!"
"That was acupuncture!" She said heavily.
"Well shit, how was I supposed to know that!?" Varus demanded. Anakin climbed out of the cot he was on, slowly, and stood back to back to his arguing apprentices. They weren't dead. But between all these curses Anakin had stockpiled, Varus's knack for first impressions, and the number of angry sand people around: it was only a matter of time.
It's typical. Really. Soooo typical. Someone is stabbing me. I react by punching him -or her- in the face, and then the curtains raise to reveal a whole army of people in brown robes pointing guns at my face. I'm standing here bleeding out of my knee and I'm made out to be the bad guy.
Force, the feeling is mutual.
Something about these guys are throwing me off too. I could pull out a big can of whoop-ass, but I lack a lightsaber, and a feeling in the back of my head tells me that would be a bad idea. These… people lack professional military training from an acedamy, that much is obvious from their posture, but they make up for it with raw precision, accuracy, twitchy fingers, with um… twenty-four sniper rifles. I doubt I'll be able to bring my hands together to form any Force techniques without them riddling me with rusty bullets. Frankly it is also cramped in here.
And Tree-Hugger isn't helping matters. Normally he is the epitome of calm, the awesome guy I have to rely on to not go too far, or just listen to in general, and he is not calm. He is fuming. He is staying in complete control, but it is still obvious by his face and aura that he utterly detests whoever these people are. That is just making them more jumpy.
Come on, Tree-Hugger, do a stupid one liner or something! But no, he is quiet. Too quiet.
"OK, let's all just stay calm." Ahsoka takes the lead. She puts her hands out slightly, but nothing changes. No one says a word, no one relaxes, no one even bothers to scratch their nose or look to each other for silent gestures of 'what do we do here?'. Tree-Hugger glares at the closest robed-dude, and all the other dudes look at us down the sights of their guns.
"Yeah, this is calm." I mutter. Despite her rolling her eyes, I mean it. No one is throwing -anymore- punches or shooting or setting this whole crap-fest off. Because really, it's just waiting for it. I can hear the fizzling and ticking of the bomb. No really, I hear a ticking sound, like metal tapping.
A skull on a stick appears behind a line of gun-robed-dudes and a gap appears to show it is held by another robed-dude. Only this one is skull-on-a-stick-robed-dude. He -or she- makes some sounds, a few gestures, and slowly but surely, people lower their guns.
I love skull-on-a-stick-dude. (The stick is actually a bent metal pipe of some kind, so that explains the ticking sound.)
Said skull-on-a-stick-dude is wearing the same brown robes as everyone else, but he is adorned in a necklace of teeth and has little jewels on a belt strapped between his shoulder and waist. On his back is a long sword and on his waist is a bulkier rifle then his comrades.
Another person fancy person walks up. Everyone responds with a slight bow at his -or her- approach. He -or She- has a pair of blades on his -or her- waist and he -or she- looks us overly slowly through his -or her- head cloth. (Ok, I really need to figure out what sex these people are!)
The second warrior-person says some stuff to skull-on-a-stick-dude and it sounds heated. They are not happy, and judging from the gestures toward us, it's about me. How do I know its about me and not my team? Let's recap. I'm the one everyone hates on sight; I'm the reason we are here; and I'm the one who punched -innocently- the doctor -ass- who was helping -stabbing- me. And let's not forget the whole Revan-Holocron-Zapping scenario, and of course my amnesia. I know this sounds egotistical, but I wish for one day in my life where the whole damn galaxy DIDN'T revolve around my head! That would be awesome!
"They do not look happy." I say.
Tree-Hugger and Girly say nothing, and none of these rifle-slinging dudes understand a word I'm saying. Tough crowd. If people don't start to lighten up, I'm gonna take a whole slew of points off every single person here.
Not that it looks like they could give a crap. Is it a bad thing I'm tempted to scream just to see how high everyone jumps?
"Good Afternoon, Outsiders." A robot says.
Whoa. They got a robot. That makes things a lot easier.
"Yo." I say.
"Good Afternoon." Ahsoka returns.
"Evening…" Tree-Hugger says shortly.
The robot says some stuff in gibberish to the robed dudes, and then turns to us again. "My Master wishes you to know that they mean you no harm unless you provide provocation. If you will would be so kind as to take a less hostile posture, they will return it in the identical manner."
That's a relief. "Like what?" I ask.
"Let's try sitting." Ahsoka suggests. On her cue we both lower ourselves down slowly, our eyes locked on them, until our butts are firmly planted on the rock and sand. Well, shit. Tree-Hugger is still glaring at them. If he gets me killed I'm taking points off.
Every gun stops point at me and Girly, and moves to Tree-Hugger. He literally has guns inches away from his face, but he doesn't pay them any mind. His eyes are hardened and locked on the twin-blade-warrior. As nice as it is to not have guns aimed at my head, the idea of them shooting Tree-Hugger is unsettling.
"Master." Ahsoka hisses worriedly.
"Outsider." The robot says. "For your own good, it is advisable to take up a less hostile posture and facial expression."
"I heard you the first time." He replies without looking at the robot beside him.
The twin-blade-warrior-dude, skull-on-a-stick-dude, and Tree-Hugger all look at each other, and for once, I can feel the tension. If they decide to take up his hostility as offensive, or his offensiveness as hostile, then this could blow up really fast. I have no doubt we can handle them, but the split moment before we do the handling would leave us open. At least one of us will die, and I don't want to see that. I mean, seriously, I just got the first people I can truly call friends! It's actually fun and lightens my day to be around Falcon, Girly, Tree-Hugger, and as much as he pisses me off, even Psycho-Bunny and his ridicules morning training schedule.
The gaze is most heavily held between twin-blade-warrior and Tree-Hugger. I can barely make out his eyes, but the stranger has seen battle. His gaze is solid, resolved, and calm in a way that tells me he is the one in charge. Those eyes carry the weight and resolve of an entire people. They hold the guilt of bad decisions, and the resolution to press forward. They are prepared to do what must be done and not hide in ignorance.
Twin-blade-warrior-dude slowly raises a hand, and I don't know if that is a good or bad thing. Tunnel vision and adrenaline hits me like a 32-wheeler-hover-truck-riding-rancor-on-steroids and I do the first thing that comes to mind.
I punch Tree-Hugger.
To say the tension was broken would be an understatement. It was shattered, trodden on, eaten, digested, and spit back out in a revolting series of heaves. Everyone was struck dumb by my sudden move, and frankly I surprised myself just as well. I really hope that didn't just mess things up! Tree-Hugger is on the ground looking at me shocked, and to a varying degree everyone else reflects it. (And again the spotlight is on me…)
But to my gratification, the twin-blade-warrior laughs, says something in gibberish, and the guns lower. Great… now everyone is laughing.
Only now do I notice how exhausting that single blow was for me. Really, it's like I put every bit of energy I have into it, Force, adrenaline, and all. As much as I hope I didn't just break his jaw, I am even more relieved they aren't up to shooting us.
After some threatening gestures as a warning, the freaks-with-sticks departed. The flaps were raised again and this time, thankfully, Dr. Stabby didn't opt for a visit. We were left to ourselves to rest for the night, with the exception of the translation droid. Apparently the droid would act as a go-between for us.
Now on to the topic at hand. "What the hell is your problem?" I ask suddenly.
"Huh?" Girly asks. She is tending a small fire we were allowed to make for the night.
"Not you." I say. I lock eyes on Tree-Hugger, who, since my spectacular knock-out, hasn't said a word and hasn't done much of anything except mope. The angry aura is coming off him almost so thickly I can see smoke. "You know, normally I'm the ass, but right now you're doing a spectacular job impersonating me."
"Shut up."
"There isn't room in this team for two of me, Tree-Hugger. I'm too epic to allow that. Besides, you have any idea what it would do to the space-time-continuum?"
"Really?" Ahsoka scoffs amusingly.
I ignore her and continue, "Next thing you know there's two of you. Two Chosen One's. But there can only be one, so you kill each other in a duel. But who's to say the original one lives or dies. Either way does that count as suicide or murder? Or if you kill an alternate personality does that count as suicide or murder too? Or a clone. Or how about if you have a parasite in control of you and you stab yourself in the brain. Would that be salvation or damnation? I don't know that's just-"
"By the Force, do you ever shut up!" Tree-Hugger spins on me and for the first time in my life I see true negativity in him. Anger. Hatred. But the hatred is not aimed at me, nor is the anger truly meant for me. Something tells me it's the people around us who have been doing nothing but helping us, albeit with a tense situation I'll admit to causing. So far they have informed us they will leave us to ourselves and will speak with us in the morning to figure out what to do with us, and so far they have been true to it.
Ahsoka's eyes are warning me not to go any further. Apparently she has some idea what the hell his problem is, and she is doing nothing about it. Well, Girly, guess what, you may know him well enough to just let it lie, but I am too stupid to do that.
"No." I bite back. "Someone has to speak twice as much to keep up with your silence, because all you have done since you woke up is mope around, glare at people with a billion guns zeroed in on your skull, and stay silent. Your usually throwing stupid one-liners and make ridicules challenges or tell me to shut up and focus on my training because I tend to just go on and on, but if all you're going to do is be a little whiny brat, I have to make it up for you. Shut up, Tree-Hugger. Now get on the ground and do fifty!" I wish I can say I'm joking, but while I don't expect him to do it, its trying to prove a point. He wants to be a pouty brat? Fine. He just entered my domain. I aint about to be beaten at my own game. Which sounds utterly ridicules now that I said it outloud.
Damn I must look like an ass all the time.
Tree-Hugger's jaw clenches angrily, but with his all-important-Jedi-Bullshit that he is trying to teach me, he retains his emotion and resorts to glaring. Ahsoka slowly backs away. "You know, just because you aren't tackling me, Tree-Hugger, doesn't mean you aren't letting your emotions out. Your eyes are speaking volumes where your muscles are not!"
"Shut. Up. Now."
I jump up and yell. "Then make me!"
Oh, he makes me.
Turns out a Jedi-Knight Prodigy can do a really powerful Force Push. Like being hit by a missile in the chin. I flip in the air and go flying a bit, but since I have expected it, I instinctively reach out, do a Force Levitation burst to somehow right myself. (Don't ask how I knew to use it that way.) and land on my feet. With a Force Push from the soles of my feet rather than my hands, I literally lunge across twenty feet of sand in one swoop and tackle him to the ground.
We grapple angrily and all kinds of emotion is let loose.
I'm ticked that they confused my profile and screwed up on me being a Miraluka.
I'm ticked at Revan for shoving naked scenes of his wife in my head.
I'm ticked that I'm the last. I haven't even thought about it too much, as I've had only days to come to terms with it. But to hell with it all, I'm still ticked.
I'm ticked at Ahsoka for being a damn girl who smacks me on the back of the head constantly.
I'm ticked at Falcon for being so much stronger than me for being a bookworm.
I'm ticked at Psycho-Bunny for just generally being an insane old man.
I'm ticked at the amneisa.
And I'm ticked off that the Master who understands me, who knows me in a way I had never expected, didn't think highly of me enough to bring me along into Sector 7207! He's holding me back and thinking I'm not worth shit! Where was his faith!? Where was his understanding?! Why is it that he constantly has meetings with Jedi Councilman in secret, and yet I hear my name being whispered distantly. I always give him the space he requests, but I wish he would just damn straight tell me if I am doing so piss poor that he has to file a damned report on me every few days! What the hell is it I'm doing that wrong!? Can't he see I'm trying! This "have no emotion" bullshit is difficult! It's like trying to hold back an ocean with a fork!
I generate a ball of energy in my hand and slam it down on his face. He shoves his head to the side in time that I just explode the energy into the ground and a small hole appears. He head butts me furiously and the grappling continues as I'm seeing stars.
Unfortunately, while I am getting physically stronger every day, I have yet to catch up. He is much stronger and generally has more experience. I lack the space I need to do a lot of maneuvering, and he shoves me to the ground and punches me in the face. At that point our energy runs out and we collapse in exhaustion. He keeps me pinned to the ground, but an agreement is silently made in our pause to catch our breath and regain our senses.
"You want to know what the hell my problem is!?" He hisses in between heavy breathes. "These savages are the ones who killed my mother! The one I told you about. It's all part of their yearly rituals! Oh yeah! Find an Outsider female! Torture her! Kill her! Sometimes even rape and cannibalize her corpse while they're at it and enjoy a cup of tea on the side! I killed every last damn one of them before they could desecrate her like that, and you know what? I was happy I did it!"
I look him in the eye. Exhausted angry man to exhausted angry man, and I see something I always knew, but I had forgotten. He has just as much difficulty with the Code as I do. He isn't some prophesized all righteous saint the Order portrays him as. He's angry, and its all the way to his core.
The person you always see on Holonews reels is just a shell to this one holding me down. His hair is wild and his eyes are feral. He isn't mad in an insane way, But let's just say someone who's inner most self is THIS exposed, is not something that should be put on public holovids. It would make a baby cry in terror.
And did he just say "enjoy a cup of tea on the side" in relation to rape and cannibalism? I'm really rubbing off on him.
"That's right." He says a little too gleefully. "I loved it, and I still do. And that is the part that sickens me! I cannot lay eyes on a single Sand Person without the Beast telling me to decapitate every damned one of them. I have a part of me that is as black as burning coal, and just as hot. I do wish I could take that day back. Then I could be rid of the part that tells me I know for a fact that I would do it again. I could go on in ignorance. But no. I am a man who hates, I am a man who loves, and I choose to devote myself to an ideal that tells me to shove it all in a cage and swallow the key. Well, I'm sorry Master Baldy (Did he really just use my patented nickname?) but there is too much for me to just shove in a box! It eats away at me every day, and there are times it comes out against my will! My problem, Varus, is that I am mortal, and there isn't a damned thing I can do about it!"
He releases me, less roughly than he would have a minute ago, and he slowly returns to his cot and lays down. The anger is mostly gone now, having turned to a silent sad passing kind of emotion that I don't have a name for.
All the Sand People, as they are apparently called, are stunned as well. I don't know if they understood a word of that, but if I could see their faces through the shoals, they would be gaping.
"Far Seer. These outsiders wish to speak with you."
Koj'Ineh turned away from his work attending to a sick man suffering from heat exhaustion and saw the Outsiders. He motioned for the warrior to leave. With a sharp nod, the warrior withdrew. Koj drew his long vibroblade and stabbed it into the ground between them. The translation droid loaned to the Outsiders scurried up between them.
"As you do not know us, I can forgive your offenses in ignorance." Koj said. "Now speak."
One stepped forward. The translation droid kicked in, "Sir, I am Ahsoka Tano. Padawan of the Jedi Order."
"I know what you are, Outsider. The Good Spirit tells me much."
The alien looked confused briefly, unable to know how to take his statement. It was neither a reproof and correction nor a pleasant one. In the end it was nothing more than a statement of fact.
"I wish to apologize on behalf of my Master, Anakin Skywalker." The alien said regardless. "He suffered greatly in the past from your kin, and having grown up amongst your enemy, he has a dim view of you."
Koj could understand that. Ignorance was the only resource truly with infinite quantity it seemed. Along with it came all kinds of evils. "He is known as the Ghost of Ekhor by us. The tribe he murdered was Ekhor, and while their end was deserved, the Ghost still strikes fear in all of us because of his prejudice. We know your Master well, Outsider. All the Ghorfa do."
"You… do not hold it against him?" She wondered.
"No. They followed evil. The Good Spirit deemed it time. If there is anything I hold against him, it is his prejudice. The Ineh are not as the Ekhor. In fact, few are as the Ekhor and Raamidash."
"Raah-me-dawsh?" She tried to say. The word did not translate as it wasn't a word to be translated.
"One of the largest clans who seek to drive you Outsiders out. Scattered, but numbering in fifty legions. Outsiders label all as Raamidash and Ekhor." Koj explained impatiently. "Now, Outsiders. Your ignorance is forgiven you if you but treat us as we treat you. We forgive your Master his ignorance, we forgive your fellow Outsider his ignorance,"
"Hey!" The other one barked. It didn't need translation. It was one of the few words Outsiders said often enough for the Far Seer to know.
"and now your business is done." Koj finished. He took his weapon by the hilt to withdraw it, but the alien Outsider put up her hand. If only she knew that particular sign meant something very insulting. He paid her ignorance no mind, but wondered as to its intended meaning. It… it was a sign of caution. No, not caution in this case. Waiting. She wanted him to wait.
"You insult me." He said cautiously. He inclined his head to the sword, that was now out of the ground. "This conversation ended, and I am now armed."
"I… what?"
Koj sighed. The Outsiders had invaded his home for thousands of years, and yet they had never bothered to try to understand them. If anything, that was the most insulting thing of it all. New encounters were one thing, a thousand year rape of his world was another. The Outsiders didn't understand that he had put the sword into the ground as a sign of conversation and a line not to be crossed, but withdrawing it removed both the sign and the line. Forgiving them yet again, he planted the sword back down. "What else do you want?"
The alien started to sit down, which only made Koj suck in his breathe. Again with the insults. Did she really think him a cultist of sacrifice? No, no, that wasn't the intent. Koj wondered as to what the sitting meant, and recalled it meant they expected a long conversation.
"Do not think to be here long." He said. "I have a sick man to attend to, and you should not be here longer than necessary, lest the Elder is defied."
"Then I will be brief. We are here on a mission, but now we do not know where we are and we lost our supplies. We appreciate your hiding us from the Hutts, but we have to complete our mission quickly. I do not speak for my Master, but he is not thinking clearly right now. I ask for your help in returning to our mission."
So, the Outsiders were not in league with the other Outsiders? That was risky. It meant trouble. "What is your mission?"
They visibly hesitated and looked between each other. "We are seeking a certain device. I can provide coordinates."
Coordinates… Coordinates. Ah, yes. That is what the Outsiders called points on a map. "We have a map." Koj said. "I will bring one myself when my work is done. For now, nothing is guaranteed. I am not the Elder. I am Koj'Ineh, the Far Seer. If you wish for anything further, you must ask for the Elder."
Before she could open her mouth further, he took his sword out again and waved them off in a gesture he knew Outsiders recognized. The escort returned and they left.
Koj frowned underneath his clothes when they departed. His instincts as a Ghorfa told him they were problems. The two huu-mawn Outsiders had erupted in fights and glares of defiance not just once, but twice now, and they were just asking for trouble if the Hutts were looking for them. The Hutts must have used at least a tank or air-vessel to send them crashing down as it was, and that meant they were investing in killing these Outsiders.
But his Far Seer side took it up with him more. The Good Spirit was not just with them, it was whispering to him to help them. He sighed, the Elder would not be pleased.
Sure enough, she was not happy.
"You expect us to allow the Outsiders into Builder's Valley?" She hissed very quietly to Koj. Considering how loud she usually was, her effort to tone it down was frightening.
"That is what they request."
"Oh, OK then, let's give them a Bantha while we're at it. A year's worth of rations."
"Sarcasm does not suit you."
"And going along with every little thing the Outsiders desires does not suit us!" She reversed her tone in the opposite direction. It almost gave him whiplash.
Koj sighed and retained his temper. "It is the will of the Good Spirit."
As much as she hated him pulling the 'Good Spirit' card every few minutes, and as much as he hated having to with her, this was a rare occasion where it was serious. The Good Spirit was behind every word the Outsiders said. She smiled on their sleep, laughed on their fights and bickering, and doted on them like a mother. Never before had he seen the Good Spirit be so… doting.
"Elder." Koj tried. "Their request may be an insult in the highest regard, but-"
"You know the last one to be allowed entry?" She snapped. "The Outsider promised the Ji he would give them a place off-world. He promised the Ji he would help them against the Raamidash who were going to kill them. You want to know where the Ji is now?"
"I know where the Ji are now." Koj responded. They were dead. The Outsider lied. He failed his promise. Him and his HK droid and Jedi female never returned. Well, most of them.
"And he was a Jedi just as these Outsiders are. The Good Spirit smiled on him too."
"Then whether it be for our good or not, we must do as the Good Spirit wishes. Even if we must suffer the same fate as the Ji, which," He said quickly. "We do not. We are not at war with any right now. The only problem we have is the Ghost of Ravine."
They fell into silence as the Elder thought. At last she said, "I will allow it under a few conditions."
"You want us to kill the Ghost of Ravine?" I ask.
The translator droid confirmed it.
Ahsoka and Tree-Hugger started to stand, but the translator droid said, "Not all of you, just you." It pointed at me. "The Far Seer, Koj'Ineh will accompany you."
Great. Fantastic. I always wanted to work on my sun tan with everyone's favorite skull-on-a-stick to go after a ghost. It will be like walking on the beach. If he asks me to hold his hand I'm running for it.
"You're going to regret this." I tell him.
After the translator droid does it's piece, he puts a hand on his gun. "Is that a threat, Outsider?"
"No, just a fact."
Palpatine raised an eyebrow at the sight. "Monkeys." He said flatly.
The Czercha employee nervously looked between him and the monkeys behind the shielding. He nodded. The monkey's went on chattering amongst themselves and scratching their butts. One of them took interest in the shielding directly in front of Palpatine and took to licking the it. A long line of spit was drawn in front of his eyes. Said monkey admired his work and went to scratching his butt.
The monkeys were supposed to be killing each other.
"They aren't killing each other." The Chancellor observed.
The Czercha scientist who ran the various experiments that were being presented flipped a switch and the monkey's and shielding disappeared. "A minor flaw, I'm sure."
"I'm sure… A 'phaser' that doesn't cut through heavy armor, a viral infection that doesn't send primates into a killing frenzy with each other, and let's not forget the… robot nuclear chicken. Sir, I hope you aren't wasting my time with this?"
"I assure you, Chancellor, that these are just warm ups for something spectacular." The head-scientist lead the man outside and down a hall to another room where the final presentation was being prepared.
"You said that with your monkeys." He said flatly.
The scientist smiled as he opened the door. "Consider this one different. You have my word on that." They entered in and they stood on a balcony. Below them was a large warehouse room that was heavily plated. It was easily two-hundred thousand square feet and there was a very large creature in the room. He didn't recognize the species, but it looked like a four armed giant gorilla with the tail of a scorpion. The creature itself was in a cage, and on the other side of the room was a robed man sitting on the ground. Palpatine felt intense Dark Side energy coming from the man.
"A Sith?" Palpatine wondered outloud.
"Yes. A captured live Sith costs a great deal of money, and more than a few bounty hunters, to afford, but I hope this test will be worth it's weight in Latinum." Palpatine nodded in satisfaction. For the Czercha to go to all kinds of lengths just to provide a subject for this test, and a Sith Lord no less, they must put great stock in it. Latinum was a very rare mineral.
"But the Sith itself is not the test." The scientist pressed a button. "This is."
A hole in the room appeared and out of it lifted a platform holding a very very heavily armored man. Palpatine wasn't sure whether it was the man or the armor, but the height was a good ten feet tall and a few feet wide. Beside the armored man on both sides was a pair of swords.
The cage lifted off the gorilla thing, and it looked around curiously.
The scientist started his explanation, "The man is an Irenian. The planet lacks water except ice in its lowest points that they have to crush with hand tools, and is only livable at the top of its mountains where it is closer to the sun and out of the fog. The people breathe thin air and exercise under intense gravity beneath the fog. The result is massive strength in their muscles and heart and long stamina from not needing to breathe too much. Strong soldiers."
"They use mechanical armor?" Palpatine wondered. The man looked like a walking tank.
"Not at all. The Irenian are soldiers of swords, hand to hand combat, and are strong, agile warriors with some of the highest levels of concentration I have ever known, not unlike Mandaloriens. The armor is fully electronic to be more responsive and usable without strength anyway. But the current setbacks are that the armor must be fused directly into the wielder's spinal column in order to respond to your moves without the use of muscle. Naturally, not all soldiers will want to have the necessary surgery, but more… patriotic elites may."
"Just get on with it." Palpatine said. Too much details. What mattered was results.
"Very well." He grabbed a microphone and told the man to engage.
A few moments later, Palpatine concluded: This here. This was worth the trip. In one minute the gorilla thing and Sith were both dead. The Irenian returned to his starting position and placed his bloody swords back at the starting position.
The scientist breathed a sigh of relief at his Chancellor's large smile. "How many can you get me?" He asked.
"With proper funding we can develop a fully running factory in a matter of months, and then produce… say… five-hundred thousand a year?"
"You have it." Palpatine said. "But, first, I think one more test is in order."
The scientist raised an eyebrow curiously. "You have something in mind?"
"I do. You see. There is this former student who needs a…" Palpatine smiled darkly, "lesson shall we say? I'm afraid he's quite forgotten me."
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