AN: Hello, my dear readers. It is my honor to present to you my first Fic SI-OC that I committed on the spur of the moment and which will be limited to one chapter for the time being, due to the fact that I am busy writing several other stories and still have not finished "Azula's Glory", which it is now my priority and I want to finish it as soon as possible, after which I will proceed to the completion of "Black Fire of the Dark Raven". In such an edition, Fic "Hated Brother" is of third importance to me.
However, apart from the other stories, let's move on to this and what it will actually be about and inspiration for it. Simply put, it is a story about a cynical and bored Pole with his own life so far, who during a trip to one of the cities is killed and at the same moment, his self, soul and personality are transferred into the body of another man from a distant galaxy. . However, this man does not even expect how much of a mess he will be pulled into, or how much it will change him as a person ...
As for inspiration, the main one for me was Fic "An Inquisitive Inquisitor" by Balerion The Drake, and to some extent "A Single Decision (Take Two)" by Timewatch. "Mobile Suit Gundam: Gihren's Glory", made by Kaiser Chris, was also a powerful inspiration for this. I wish that in the future - if he ever decides to continue this - this story will not only be a thrilling space opera, but also a fairly good adventure about a quasi antihero who is trying to build his position in this new universe. It is also from here that I would like to greet all three authors of these aforementioned stories and wish them a lot of strength to continue their work.
Without extending it, let's move on to the actual story. Feel free to comment and thus leave your opinion.
Republic of Poland
Cracow, Old Town
25. VIII. 2021.
This August day was unusually warm, but not in the least pleasant way. It was once again that it had been proven beyond reasonable doubt just how unpleasant summer could be. The sun was raining heavily on the city, and people walking or staying on the streets were literally dripping and smelling mercilessly afterwards. Of course, it was not that these people were passive in this state of affairs. Some tried to find help in bottles of sparkling water, while others looked for help in beers, which could be found in nearby stores quite a lot, for a really small price. Still others, on the other hand, sat for a moment in the shade, on a nearby bench, or crowded into cafes, which were really a lot in this area.
One has to admit, however, that despite this uninviting atmosphere, Old Town of Cracow was really beautiful, with all the buildings that often date back to the nineteenth century and remembered the times when these lands were part of the Habsburg Monarchy.
Among all these people and buildings, an eighteen-year-old teenager was strolling. This man was average in every way, at least in terms of physical appearance. His hair was short, black, and combed to the right side. Overall, he was fluffy but not fat, but in combination with his relatively small height, it did not matter that much, because he looked at least not very appetizing. There were dark circles under his eyes, but not from lack of sleep or lack of sleep, but from lack of facial care. His eyes were more than an effective window to his soul that betrayed his present mental state, the excitement of being in a place with such a history, but at the same time weariness with his life so far.
A raven-haired teenager, he was a man who in the same year successfully graduated from high school, graduated from high school and applied to university for the longed-for history course. Although he was young and had great prospects ahead of him, the passion in his heart, or ambition, slowly began to fade away. This happened much earlier than with other people. In general, when someone had the opportunity to see inside him, he would see an old man in the body of a teenager who has become weary of life and seek any impressions. What was supposed to provide him with this was the possibility of delving into the annals of history. Even that, however, seemed to slowly fade away.
However, his rather gloomy mood did not result from the mere weariness of his life so far, but also from the fact that, as one of a fairly small group of people, he learned the truth about the surrounding reality.
The world I see is only an illusion that is supposed to cover the omnipresent chaos over which no one really has full control. On the other hand, people who are trying to exercise any control over all of this are simply trying to get rich or gain power for themselves in the first place. He thought as he strolled between the old alleys.
His cynical view of the world, reality and people in general was not due to being born like this, but rather because of living and observing a very specific political scene in his country. Once upon a time, he saw in some politicians hopes for a better future and was ready to literally fight for people he did not even know personally. But now, after many years of observation and maturation, he saw among people usurping the right to be representatives of the people, at best pathetic opportunists. Some of whom pretend to be exemplary Catholics and arch enemies of sexual minorities, but secretly either beat their wives or has lovers, or they themselves belong to sexual minorities and fight them because of their own complexes. In turn, the second group of people tried to pretend to care for members of the same minorities or enemies of traditional values, but were also ready to not be faithful to their ideal and use it as a tool to gain seats in both houses of parliament.
The icing on the cake, in turn, was the public debate on the economy, and competing in the creation or implementation of new and more and more burdensome state budget. Overall, the public debate in his country of birth resembled pure and ideeless populism. The raven-haired man only wondered when this doomsday would come when the Republic of Poland would have to announce the impossibility of servicing the public debt. The young man remembered perfectly well from his parents' stories that in the nineties of the last century the state was basically bankrupt, with monthly inflation rising by thirty percent, while people were losing their jobs on a massive scale.
It is a pity that such a great system as democracy - in which the voice of every individual counts the same - must eventually always degenerate into the dictatorship of the mob, in which the one who offers the most and has no ideas in his heart wins. The raven haired teenager thought bitterly. He used to believe that democracy was the least bad system. However, his many years of observation had taught him that the system had become only an opportunity for the stupidest and least productive members of society to earn enormous amounts of money, often at the expense of citizens and voters. Plato must have a lot of fun in the afterlife to see that his criticism of this regrettable regime has proved to be right.
The raven-haired teenager thought so much that he did not even notice how he entered the road, and a speeding car was heading towards him, the driver of which probably lost control of the vehicle, or was completely drunk. In this country, both of these options were equally likely.
The oncoming car was an expensive dark blue BMW. It wasn't long before the vehicle crashed into a teenager who first smashed his head against the windshield and was then pushed off the bonnet onto the tarmac below.
The blood began to pour out very quickly from the damaged head, which still had shards of glass embedded in it, and which after the fall and the asphalt beat even deeper. The teenager felt pain, but he did not scream or show the slightest sign of fear in the face of possible death. Although he undoubtedly suffered a concussion, he still managed to put his right hand on the keys in his right pocket, to which was attached a key ring, shaped like an Imperial Star Destroyer, from Star Wars Univers. Although he was a fan of this world as a child, he only saw Empire Strikes Back for the first time and with this movie began his great adventure. After all, his childhood love for the brand faded over time. Currently, he had a fondness for that brand, associated only with childhood love - the best example of which was the aforementioned key ring - but nothing more.
Remembering his love for the fantastic science fiction world that basically started the space opera genre, the teenager couldn't help but smile at the thought that he was once a big fan of Galactic Empire, despite its many shortcomings. His infatuation was mainly due to the great-looking uniforms of the officers and the psychological effects exerted by powerful and sterile ships, most often in the shape of triangles. More than once he imagined himself in command of either the entire destroyer, or preferably the entire fleet of these ships.
I wonder if it will end up after death in the universe I like the most. He thought with a sardonic smile on his lips as he tried to stare at the bright side of death. It would be nice if I could step into the shoes of some imperial officer, or preferably an inquisitor, and try to create a stable and powerful empire. Though I was always irritated in the Galatic Empire by the arrogance or incompetence of the officers who then had to be strangled by Darth Vader. Not to mention the savings on the equipment of fighters, compared to the heavily armored and armed Star Destroyers, which have always been relatively easily destroyed by the rebels anyway.
Reflecting, the teenager didn't even feel his vision slowly blurring and the people gathering around him, trying to save his life. After a while, however, the raven-haired youth distracted himself from his thoughts, and his last glance fell on the couple, whom he immediately identified as a married couple and their own parents. His mother cried at the sight while his father tried to comfort her. Gathering the rest of his strength, the raven-haired teenager gave them one last, knowing and reassuring smile.
Don't worry, you'll be fine. He thought, but he couldn't be more wrong.
After about ten seconds, the forces left his body and the soul broke out of that body moments later, only to change the life of that particular self and personality forever.
New Territories, Dantooine śystem
Imperial II-class Star Destroyer "Hope of Empire"
A Moment After Emperor's Death
A human scream echoed aboard the bridge of the mighty star destroyer Hope of Empire, which was the flagship of a task force squadron whose final task was to assist the Second Brother - one of the last Imperial inquisitors - in his efforts to track down and the elimination of potential rebel forces who, in the opinion of the ISB, were supposed to have their base here. It would be logical given the poor development of this world and its distance from the Core Worlds, which were the core of the empire's power.
The Hope of Empire, along with the rest of the squadron, broke out of hyperspace about two hours ago, and since then a search for potential signs of rebel activity has been carried out, but to no avail. Although there used to be a regional rebel headquarters here, it was abandoned a long time ago and the former complex was probably not filled with dust at present, or nature has already entered it.
Regardless of the mission, however, the staff on the Star Destroyer Bridge was distracted from their duties as soon as the squadron-commanding inquisitor burst out screaming, then fell to his knees in complete shock and began to shake. His eyes were wide, and anyone who saw the sight simply could not hide the horror directly related to the state of the emperor's mysterious envoy and member of the ISB.
"My Lord!" Shouted the commander of the ship, a red-haired man in his thirties and the commander of the Hope of Empire, Commander Galak Stahl. He ran to the still screaming inquisitor who seemed more like a dying animal at the moment.
Where am I and what happened. The inquisitor thought in utter confusion, then slowly began to overcome the rush of emotions and stimuli that almost invaded his mind the moment he opened his eyes. Although he did not recognize his environment, it nevertheless became clear that he was in some metallic room, with a mass of devices that were both strangely familiar, but at the same time unheard of before in his entire life so far. In addition, it was accompanied by a strange feeling, as if everything living in the universe was in some strange and incomprehensible way related to him, and to everything else that was alive, and to the universe itself.
As soon as he mastered his scream, he felt a hand on his back almost immediately, but instinctively he tried to push away any man who might have had hostile intentions towards him. However, to the man's great surprise, he pushed the potential attacker away before he even touched his body.
Quickly and, to some extent, composed, he turned back only to see how the man touching him was pushed back, more than two meters, and a black-haired woman ran up to the fallen man very quickly. Both of them were dressed in a strangely familiar uniform, which consisted of a baseball cap, an olive green double-breasted tunic, trousers - also olive green - and black high-heeled shoes.
These uniforms, this room design. The man thought as soon as he realized that everything around him seemed strangely familiar, but at the same time completely alien. After a while, he looked at his reflection presented to him by the perfectly polished floor.
What's that supposed to mean. In his reflection, he saw the face of a man in his twenties, with prominent and attractive cheekbones, a small nose, short and completely disheveled blond hair, and ruby eyes. This is not my body.
Looking down at his reflection, he saw a black uniform hugging his body, and something like armor that did not extend to his belly. What caught his attention, however, was the coat of arms present on the shoulder pads, which as a Star Wars Universe fan he knew too well. A white circle, with six arms attached to it, is the insignia of the galactic empire. Looking down to his belt, he also noticed a strange black hilt with a disc of the same color built into it. He recognized the device without any problems.
Lightsaber of Inquisitors. It rang in his mind, and as he tried to put his hands on it, his mind was flooded with memories, but not his old, and instead entirely new, memories of a man known as the Second Borther. At least that was the dignity he had at the moment.
The memories flooding his mind, however, revealed the stories of a man known by the name of Lanz, born on some extremely poor planet, without a father, mother, or family of any kind. After a while, the mind was also filled with memories of the struggle to survive on the street and for every possible piece of food still edible, and how Lanz sometimes had to steal or fight with other street children for his own life. Constant memories also revealed the day he was taken from his home planet by other inquisitors and then introduced to the emperor himself, who had him trained as another member of this formation. The inhuman and extremely difficult training circumstances were quickly revealed, but at the same time extraordinary versatility and preparation for extreme situations. It also revealed that the young inquisitor candidate devoted his free time to studying history or war tactics, especially the cosmic ones. Additionally, Lanz has been thoroughly trained in mind control and combat, primarily using his weapons in single-blade mode.
All these memories, at the same time, contained a lot of details about the missions being performed and the Second Brother's relationship between other inquisitors who were still alive at that time. The last task received from the emperor himself was also revealed, which was to locate possible rebel bases within the New Territories.
It doesn't seem to matter now. He thought as he calmed down and absorbed all the incoming stimuli to such an extent that he was able to sense the death of his former superior. The emperor is dead, Darth Vader will be joining him soon, and there is no individual left to give me orders.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a knocked down officer whose chrome badge revealed his rank, and who was still being lifted off the ground by a lower rank officer, most likely his adjutant.
What should I do? He asked himself mentally. There was only one logical answer: to command and make them respectable with your attitude. It was not that simple, however, because of this man's past, and more precisely the fact that, being in his previous body, he never had the opportunity to command and his appearance did not arouse respect at the time. However, to his great surprise, the thought of spending time with senior officers and staff to him, soon became as natural as breathing, or the desire to meet basic needs.
Seeing that all eyes were on him, he cleared his throat immediately and became serious, then his gaze fell almost immediately on the sore commander of the ship and probably the entire fleet as well.
"Commander, order the fleet to assemble immediately and then proceed to the Braxant sector." Second Brother gave the order calmly and with a steely voice. "I, in turn, must go to my cabin and prepare to meet the manager of this sector, it is more than urgent. When you are done, you are to go to my cabin immediately, we have a few things to discuss."
To everyone around him, his behavior was completely incomprehensible and they could only assume that it might have been force related, but they weren't sure. While the knowledge of force as such was practically forgotten, the staff of the Hope of Empire Bridge were fully aware that it was more than real, as evidenced by the strangulation by an inquisitor, one of the crew who turned out to be a rebel spy .
Before the inquisitor could return his quarters, however, the commanding officer of the ship and formally interrupted him, but with a distinctly trembling voice. "My lord, our job is to hunt rebels and we are in the middle of a search in this sector." He tried to subtly and not brazenly disobey orders.
The Second Brother replied, looking straight into his eyes. "Circumstances have changed. You will soon find that our whole life is about to change and that our old connections and orders are therefore becoming obsolete. We need to look to the future and secure it. My orders are not changing."
After these words, the inquisitor left the bridge and left the staff in a daze. His mysterious and ambiguous words betrayed the awareness of the changes that were coming soon.
Meanwhile, Second Brother walked through the corridors of the destroyer's stellar bridge, guided by instincts - or power - to the cabin a few minutes' walk. As he entered, he almost immediately collapsed on a nearby bed of an unusually modest and unadorned room.
What exactly happened to me? He asked himself, unable to grasp his present situation in the slightest. A few more - maybe a few dozen - minutes ago, he was lying dying in the middle of the city, hit by a car. Meanwhile, now, he sat aboard a goddamn Star Destroyer that was nothing but a fiction in his old world. Internally, he wanted to tell himself it was just a brain injury hallucination or a dream, but the feeling of being connected, bound to the universe and having a weapon strapped to his belt effectively denied that it might be a fiction.
To dispel all doubts, he pulled out the hilt with the disc-shaped crossguard and activated it after finding the appropriate button. A scarlet streak of light with a gleaming center emerged from the empty space, which very quickly became all too familiar a shape. The Inquisitor closed his eyes for a moment, then deactivated his lightsaber.
I'm in the Star Wars universe. He accepted his present position quite easily, but acceptance raised even more questions. Were my self and soul transferred into this body whose original owner was so insignificant in the original story that it ultimately did not matter much?
Before he could add anything else, however, he noticed an enabled datapad that seemed to display a message. The young man picked it up quickly and then began to read.
Congratulations, you have just been transferred into a new body after your own death, present in one of your beloved fantasy worlds.
I know very well that the Star Wars universe was not your first choice, but me and my colleagues and employers found it the most interesting solution. Although we usually try to transfer the self and soul of dead people into the bodies of heroes, we found this solution not very fun and incredibly repetitive. You should be happy because you have the opportunity to be one of the inquisitors during the time of Galactic Empire collapses.
As an aside, you are present in Cannon, not Legends. We found it too much more interesting due to the multitude of potential possibilities. By the way, don't worry about the resurrected Emperor. We also consider The Rise of Skywalker to be an amazing crap that should never be produced and that doesn't even make the slightest sense.
Regardless of this, however, let's move on to more important things.
First, there are rules for your transfer, or more precisely, no rules. You have absolute freedom in the choices and goals you set for yourself. It only depends on you whether you want to unite the galaxy in an iron grip, or maybe you will find a different path. Everything is up to you and your will.
Second, this message will change, but not the data contained here. To be precise, technical data for all machines and technologies that are used or have been used by Galactic Empire. You also have data on the New Regions in which your fleet is currently located.
That's all, we cannot and do not intend to interfere with your new life.
We also sincerely hope that you will find your future here, which will give you satisfaction.
The message ended there. The young man suspected that his eyes were wide enough that he could easily swallow a medium-sized fish.
The reaction, while undoubtedly exaggerated, perfectly reflected his inner state of utter confusion. After a while, he decided to read the message again, then turned off the datapad.
His confusion did not last long, however, for he was immediately gripped by one of the most primal instincts, characteristic of every living being. It was a survival instinct and the will to keep himself safe.
I have sensed the death of the Emperor, which means that soon the empire will be plunged into chaos. He applied, then she tossed all questions aside and began to plan. I should go to the Bastion immediately, and then have the Grand Moff there take an oath of allegiance to me. I must gain control of all the fleets in this region of the galaxy. When I manage to create a safe space, I can think about my next moves.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening, and the same officer that the Second Brother had recently knocked down with force walked in. From what he remembered, his name was Commander Galak Stahl, and he formally commanded not only this destroyer, but also an entire fleet, tasked with supporting the inquisitor's efforts in his mission.
"Inquisitor." The commander saluted, then stood to attention. "I submit to order."
"Excellent, I hope there was no trouble giving the fleet orders." Second Brother replied, but this time he tried to create a friendly and safe atmosphere around him.
"No, my lord. Although the officers in command of the other ships had doubts about this and did not understand your decision, they nevertheless obeyed. As we speak, our fleet should be preparing to leap towards Dubrillion, from there to Bescane, and from there we will be they had a straight route to the Braxant sector. "
"Excellent, this is perfectly acceptable." The Inquisitor replied with a slight nod of the head. "Now, I suspect I owe you an explanation. So let me tell you straight, the Emperor is dead."
AN: I know cliffhanger, but I think this is a good time to end it. Write me what you think about it.