A/N: I'm very glad I have fans of this story. I was taking a risk in opening this story without Anakin, Ahsoka, and Obi-Wan immediately encountering him, but I'm happy you enjoy these opening chapters. (Was it really that obvious I was thinking about Mad Max for the past two?) Those who comment make this fic worth it. Your criticism and praise alike is always appreciated.
Something I've seen mentioned in those past two chapters is that it seems the Slayer is nerfed. I understand those concerns. I read the lore too. And I feel like I've done a good job at imposing diegetic (in-story) restrictions that force the Slayer to not go at his full strength just yet: He's learning more about the galaxy, he's got hostages to protect, he's on board speeding vehicles, he's bored, he's testing things like beskar and the Force, his vision gets clouded by fire, he's subject to inertia and gravity. He's still by far the strongest, though.
There's probably a subconscious, non-diegetic reason too: just as how there's a disconnect between the lore and the gameplay, there's going to be something off in a story written as a continuation of that gameplay. The Slayer is, of course, invincible. Nothing can hurt him, and nothing will. But I want to show respect to both franchises I adore. I want to show off the Slayer as incorruptible, unyielding, unbreakable. But that requires him to go through intriguing and new situations, with SW mechanics, that reveal his character and power. (Besides, surprise can disorient the strongest of beings. Does anyone remember when Krillin hurt SSJ Goku more by throwing a rock at his head than Frieza did to SSJ Goku on Namek?)
Please rest assured, I'll do the best I can to write an OP character without diminishing his abilities OR disrespecting SW. Now, on with the story!
It was dark. The yellow headlights of the hovertrain illuminated the hovering granules of dust in the air. They also painted the twin cliff walls leading to Hondo's base enclosure. The train passed wordlessly through the walls, slowing to a stop right at the edge of the courtyard.
With a groan of relief, the train shut down. Similar groans came from the surviving crewmen: one from the first car, two from the second, and Oltrain and Daska.
Nerissa was still silent, holding Golyon Chi's bloody head in her lap. The Slayer had not moved or interrupted her grief since Chi's death.
But when the base's front hatch opened and half a dozen of Hondo's gang poured out in a sudden floodlight, the Slayer nudged Nerissa with his boot and jerked his head at them. He stooped down to fling the unconscious Jiro over his shoulder, stepped off the hovertrain, and landed casually on his feet without so much as bending his knees.
The head pirate– Kordis, with the mechanical hand and the S tattoo over his eye– gaped in astonishment at the Slayer and lowered his pistol.
"By the Void," Kordis grunted. And he huffed with laughter. "Well, this'll be interesting fer Hondo. Here we thought this was going to take a few weeks. Maybe months. Yer a go-getter, tha's for sure."
"Oi, 'oosat?" one of the other pirates wondered, gesturing at Daska and Oltrain. They had gotten out of the train, still holding their blasters and a rocket launcher. "They don' look like ours."
"Of course not!" Oltrain hotly exclaimed. "We're officers in the Republic navy who were prisoners of that filth." He pointed his chin at the pirate on the Slayer's back.
"Filth, eh?" Kordis slyly repeated. "Per'aps yer not so bad."
"Where's Hondo Ohnaka?" Daska demanded.
"You are- *hic* speaking to him!" declared a familiar voice from the base entryway.
All heads turned to see Hondo, slumped on the side of the entryway and holding a precariously angled cup. His clothes were wrinkled and his overcoat was gone.
"The hour is late for small talk, my *hic* friend, but profit can be made any time of day!" Hondo declared, and he raised his sloshing cup. "I must say, however. Taking advantage of *hic* a drunk man?" He grinned. "Ingenious!"
Oltrain and Daska exchanged knowing looks.
Hondo shambled to the front, and his gang parted to let him through. He tilted his head up to address the Slayer. "Ah, Slayer. I see you have returned, with…" He squinted. "Who is that?"
"Your bounty," VEGA prompted.
"Ah!" Hondo jumped back. "You are loud, for a quiet man!"
The Slayer knelt down and slammed Jiro onto the metal surface of the courtyard. It was enough to rustle his broken bones, and the pain made him cry out, writhing his way back to consciousness.
"Gnaaagha! Worm, you… gah, traitorous pig! I'll wear your guts around my neck! I'll…" Jiro blinked in quick succession, clearing up his vision. He painfully propped himself up and froze at the sight of all his enemies leering down on him. If Weequay faces could pale, his would have done so.
"Ah, Jiro. My friend." Hondo suddenly did not sound so drunk. Hondo strode to his treasonous subordinate and crouched down so he was only two feet apart. "Did you truly believe that Hondo Ohnaka does not win in the end?"
"Sir," Jiro meeped. "I-I was only doing what was best for you! You'll see, I promise!"
"Any outcome where you steal my precious goods and desert me is not good business," Hondo softly refuted. "There are rathtars with higher moral standards than you."
"Do we kill 'im?" Kordis eagerly proposed.
"No," Hondo said without even looking back. He raised a finger. "He is a true pirate if ever there was one. He may yet make a name for himself under my reign."
Jiro's face softened in wonder and appreciation.
"But! That does not mean he is off the hook. Take him to the brig."
Jiro's mouth hung open in shock.
"He has multiple broken bones," VEGA informed Hondo as Jiro was hoisted to his feet. "If not treated, they will misform in his body."
"That sounds like a him problem," Hondo dismissed. "Perhaps we can consider that a reminder of his treason."
"PLEASE!" Jiro bellowed in desperation. "PLEASE, JUST-"
A fist to his stomach shut Jiro up as he was dragged away.
Hondo's wandering gaze next came to the Republic officers, who instinctively shrunk away. "And what have we here? Lost souls, come to me for help?"
"Hardly," Oltrain sourly answered.
"Not exactly," Daska quickly amended.
"The Slayer freed them from bondage," VEGA clarified. "They are coming with us when we leave this planet."
The Slayer raised his fists and cracked one pair of knuckles.
Hondo, after a moment, nodded. "You make a compelling argument." He turned to his base, then back to the Slayer. "But shall we not let them stay here for the night? Allow them to rest, and we shall resupply them in the morning. Getting you ready to travel is the least I can do for you completing your task so soon." He leaned in and whispered. "Assuming, of course, that you did retrieve my package?"
"Not to worry. Your other base is also secure, though with collateral damage. Your tanks are safe as well."
"Splendid! It is one thing to deliver my enemies into my hands. It is another to also save my precious goods. But delivering an armored vehicle full of goodies besides all that? That… is just good business. Now what choice do I have but give you what I promised? Kordis, please show our guests some spare quarters. Not the brig; there is no subtext in that phrase."
Kordis huffed and holstered his pistol. Daska, as a show of good faith, did the same. Oltrain took a bit longer, but he finally leaned the rocket launcher against the hovertrain.
"Nerissa!" Daska called to the top of the train. "Come down from there."
A short while later, Nerissaa called, "All right. I'm coming. But I can't leave him."
The Slayer trod to the train, bent his knees, and leaped a good fifteen feet into the air, landing on the train roof. Nerissa scrambled back as he impacted. The Slayer slowly came to Golyon Chi's body, still as bloodied and cold as before. He scooped him up in his hands and stepped off the train again to the ground.
"What's–" Kordis started.
The Slayer shot him a look, and Kordis instantly fell back.
Nerissa hit the dirt not long after, and the Slayer turned and began trudging out of the pass, still carrying Golyon's body. Nerissa hesitantly followed.
It didn't take long before the Slayer was out of the narrow pass that led into Hondo's base. He went a little bit further into the wilderness and out of the way of any potential traffic. The night was dark, but starry. Though the Slayer could see perfectly fine, a small beam of light clicked on his chest plate for Nerissa's sake.
The Slayer went far enough into the empty desert night. He stopped and settled Chi's body down. Then he began scooping wide arcs out of the ground with no resistance.
Sensing what the Slayer was doing, Nerissa knelt on her torn dress and began taking handfuls out too. She winced as her hands scraped through the brittle earth. She was inefficient, but the Slayer did not admonish her.
Finally, after only ten minutes, the Slayer had dug a hole deep and wide and long enough to properly bury the old Jedi. Leaping out of the hole, he carried Golyon Chi down and settled him in his final resting place. He jumped out once again and swept the armfuls of dirt back in. Nerissa tried as best she could, but she didn't do much before the Slayer was finished.
The mound of earth was simple, barren. Not even a headstone. But the Slayer was content with it.
Nerissa's silent tears had restarted as she looked down on the mound of earth. "I… didn't know you before the mission. And I wish, now that it's over, that I did… I'm sorry. Wherever you are now, I hope I meet you again, if only to see you happy."
The Slayer nodded and folded his arms. Took the words right out of his mouth.
"Here lies Golyon Chi," Nerissa said. She wiped an eye. "A free man."
Neither person moved more.
Nerissa let out a heavy breath and turned around. "I can make my way back. Thank you, Slayer."
The Slayer turned to her and nodded again. Nerissa smiled in return. She began feeling through the dark back to the narrow pass leading to Hondo's base.
That left the Slayer alone with Golyon Chi's tomb.
The Slayer plucked Golyon's lightsaber from his waist and examined the length. It was simple, silver, and as long as his forearm. A few buttons, dials, ridges, and grooves were along the length. It wasn't oddly colored, obtusely shaped, or amateurishly designed. Text and information appeared beside it on his HUD, as well as a cross-section and a blueprint.
"Master Chi honored you enough to give you this," VEGA reminded him. "You would honor his memory best in return by learning how to use it."
The Slayer had, for a moment, considered burying the lightsaber with the Jedi. So he could be remembered as a Jedi. But VEGA was right. He would be better remembered in this way.
The Slayer pushed the ignition. A three-foot bar of green plasma fountained out, and he held it in a normal guard stance. The Slayer had been trained in martial weapons on Argent D'nur, but this lightsaber felt far different from a simple sword, or even a Crucible. It was like there was a current running along the length and coming back to the point of ignition. Like a water hose whose stream simultaneously went out and in. He swung and swirled it a few times, and the Slayer had to admit, he liked the smooth, deep rumble it made in motion.
"Lightsaber usage is based on directing this fountain of plasma in efficient ways," VEGA elaborated, and several files labeled Lightsaber Combat Forms appeared on his HUD. "Hence why Jedi tend to be acrobatic or swirl their sabers seemingly needlessly in combat. Your blunt force certainly could make the blade obey your will, but that seems dreadfully limiting."
The Slayer ignited the other end of the green saber and windmilled it. He first simply swung the saber, using a fraction of his strength. Then he swirled the saber and swung again at the same fraction. Indeed, he could feel a discernible difference in speed and smoothness.
He grinned and swirled a few more times, shifting his feet here and there. Getting a feel for the lightsaber was more intriguing and fun than he had thought. He experimented with tossing it in the air and catching it. He took it behind his back a few times. He tried turning one end off and then back on at crucial moments. There was a lot of potential for the weapon.
"Though your formidable speed and power is already immeasurable, I believe you'll find the lightsaber to be a worthy melee addition to your arsenal. Especially considering its ability to instantly cut through most anything. It achieves the same purpose as a Crucible without the Argent Energy corruption of one."
Which meant it also couldn't slay a Titan like a Crucible could. But that was fine for now.
"It may be sooner than we expect. We never know."
The Slayer turned his eyes up; he had forgotten about VEGA's mind-reading.
"Ah, I did promise that. It's simple, really. The neural links connecting your mind to your suit, that enable your HUD to display relevant goals, naturally also connect your mind to me, integrated in the suit. I sense your intentions, your thoughts, and your emotions."
The Slayer tightened his shoulders, and the grip on his lightsaber tightened. The thought that anyone could have access to his mind and potentially corrupt him, even VEGA–!
"I understand. Your privacy is important."
The Slayer tried to not think of anything.
"Can nothing I say gain your trust?"
Nothing came to mind.
"I swear, in the name of King Novik, to avenge Argent D'Nur and slay the demonic forces of the universe. The Dark Lord Davoth will fall, and earth's citizens must be enabled to live in peace."
…But that came very close. It was easy to write it off as just an AI saying what the Slayer wanted him to hear, but something in VEGA's delivery seemed far more… sincere than a robot could produce.
"I am intrigued, however. If a portal back to Earth was opened right now, would we stay here and avenge the galaxy's wrongs? Or return to Earth?"
The Slayer's lips tightened. He was still working that part out.
But he was here now. Wherever he was, the Slayer wanted to do good. To eradicate evil with a lead-spitting steel barrel.
The Slayer shut off the lightsaber and regarded Golyon Chi's mound of earth again. Even in death, he would do good to the galaxy.
The Slayer stayed in the wilderness until the light of the rising sun. He practiced and studied lightsaber combat forms all night, perusing through the documents VEGA had provided. Between the Slayer's extensive previous melee combat training and his propensity to master any weapon in his hands, the Slayer had gotten at least a high level overview of the lightsaber's mechanics, both one and two-handed, and single and double bladed.
The Slayer trudged the short distance back to Hondo's base and entered. The base was dark and still; it was early in the morning. He wandered the halls, remembering where the cantina had been, and entered.
Sure enough, some pirates were already stopping in for a drink, while others lay snoring over sloppy tables. The Slayer easily spotted Hondo Ohnaka, and Hondo spotted him too.
"Aha, see here!" Hondo grandiosely announced to the entire bar. "Here is the man who has saved us from being overtaken by the Hutt clan! A toast, to the Slayer!"
The dozen or so conscious pirates yelled to the Slayer's name; it was disjointed and sloppy, and the Slayer cringed. Hondo strode over to the Slayer and put a hand on his enormous arm.
"Your guests told us everything last night," Hondo explained. "And, er, speaking of which, if you have the package, we should…"
The Slayer's other hand produced the pink and green crate from hammerspace, and Hondo, briefly startled, gasped and reached for it. "Yes, yes! Wonderful! Come to my office. This is a deeply important cargo, naturally."
The Slayer followed Hondo out of the cantina and to Hondo's office at the end of a gray hall.
Hondo was speaking, even as he opened the door to his office. "See, I have been, er, short on funds, until a recently profitable venture smuggling custom lingerie to a Trandoshan client. I used the profits to purchase that in your hands, and it has been a long time coming, believe me!"
The Slayer looked around. The office was decorated with several paintings and empty shelves on the back wall. Hondo's desk was cluttered with a few pieces of paper and several old glasses of half-drunk liquor.
"And it is here now!" Hondo cried, snatching the crate from the Slayer and setting it on his desk, knocking over two glasses in the process. "I have been waiting on this shipment for two hundred standard rotations. This, my friend, is more priceless to me than the Malachor Emerald." He tremblingly undid the latches of the case.
He pried it open.
There was a gasp, from either the case or Hondo. "It's here. All here!"
The Slayer leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. What could it possibly be? What was everyone fighting over?
Hondo withdrew a rattling box from the crate and held it aloft. It was a building block plastic toy set, containing a 2,000+ piece replica of a Republic Venator Attack Cruiser. "My gorgeous Iego sets! They make these exclusively on the moons of Iego, you see, and it's made them very profitable. This one has custom print minifigures of Commander Skywalker and General Kenobi! We've met before, actually. The three of us have a, er, love-hate relationship. And there's a few clones in here too, but who cares. And look, there's more! The Republic Senate building! Oh, and the Jedi Temple! These are fan-made, not to be found for sale by official manufacturers! Oh, mwah! I could kiss you, Slayer! But I won't. And ah, this! Look at this." He withdrew a two-foot toy box containing a lifelike replica of a bounty hunter with a T-visor helmet and shiny silver armor. "Jango Fett, the Obsidian Edition. With his full set of weapons and authentic, actual beskar armor. There are millions of his clones in the galaxy now, but this? Only five hundred copies have been made in existence. This one… has never come out of the box!"
The Slayer had been initially tempted to erupt in incredulity. This was the most important thing in the galaxy for Hondo? A box of literal toys had almost caused a war between Florrum and the Hutts?!
But in the end, he couldn't help but smile. He collected toys himself– back on Mars, with the little action figures. And seeing this hardened pirate criminal gush over his Iego sets and caress the box art made the Slayer yield and just shake his head in amusement. It even helped, somehow. It let the Slayer know that, despite the work of the Divinity Machine, his relatability to Hondo meant he was still fundamentally human. It hadn't been taken away.
For a brief moment, the Slayer's bloodlust and fury had dissipated. For a brief moment, he remembered when he was still… Flynn Taggart.
Hondo snapped the briefcase shut and set it aside to see the Slayer better. "You, my friend, shall have the goods you acquired during your sojourn, as well as supplies, a ship of your choice, and a letter of good will saying you are always welcome here on Florrum. My comrades shall assist you in getting everything ready. Because I shall be busy in here."
The Slayer nodded and turned to leave. But a noise from Hondo made him turn around again.
"Oh. Would you look at that. A, er, second copy of Jango Fett. Must have been a mishap in packing. That also explains the exuberant price I paid." Hondo looked at his twin toys before throwing his hands up. "Suddenly it does not feel rare anymore. Oddly enough, one is worth more than two. Slayer, my friend. Would you like it?"
After a moment, the Slayer shrugged and opened his hands. Hondo got out of his seat, came around the table, and deposited the spare box into his arms.
"Never let it be said that Hondo Ohnaka is not generous to those who help him!" Hondo declared, turning on his heel back to his desk. "You just got the best deal in the galaxy, my friend."
The Slayer dryly gave the tiniest of curtsies before backing out. Hondo had snatched the Venator Iego set and was prying at the tape holding the end together. That was the last he saw before turning and leaving.
The Slayer was directed by two guards through the base, to a door, and let outside. It was an open-air garage filled with all sorts of ship designs. Maintenance craft and tools were all over the place, and several ships' plating had been removed to reveal the guts inside. A few workmen were crawling over the biggest ones, spraying sparks from their welding torches.
"We illicitly obtained 'em," the Weequay harbormaster explained to the Slayer once he had come over, waving a hand at the twenty-odd ships. "I dunno what that means, but that's the term Hondo uses. I think he means stole."
The Slayer's eyes wandered all over the garage of haphazardly arranged, shoddily personalized, and generally ugly ships. His arms folded.
"I understand, it's not much. But it's our spares, and one of 'em is free. Make sure your pick is good."
The Slayer left him behind, though the harbormaster quickly followed. He went row by row, examining several in quick succession. Some were too bulky, and some were too light and speedy. Some were too sparsely armed. The Slayer passed up one with a Zabrak pinup model painted on the side.
His eyes finally landed on one in the far corner. It was a dark green SS-54 gunship model, according to the data VEGA conjured on his HUD. Its hull tapered from the prow and had a bulbous command deck with two twin blaster cannons in front and a swiveling turret on top. Thin spars from the frame of the ship connected to its two enormous engines on either side, which were rotated facing down for its landing position.
The Slayer smiled. Small, heavily armed, and with space to store things until he found permanent accommodations. Perfect!
"Ah, see something you like?" the harbormaster asked, indicating the ship. "Couple of bounty hunters called Sugi and Embo use this kind of gunship too. They called theirs the Halo. Good choice."
The Halo, huh? Then the Slayer's would be…
"Does it have a name?" VEGA inquired.
"No. We stole it from a factory line."
"Then this shall be named the Horn."
The harbormaster's face creased in surprise. "Well now, that's a dichotomy."
The Slayer turned to him in surprise.
"I dunno what that means, but I heard Hondo say it. Anyway, she's yours. The boss just gave the order for you to be supplied, so head on to the market."
The Slayer did not need to eat. Not anymore. But he still selected several crates of food for the officers, in the market which had been quickly set up in the base's courtyard. And he also selected several curious food dishes that weren't so exotic that they were repulsive, but not so familiar that it wasn't worth trying. Upon coming across some simple meat dumplings, however, he snagged those too. Sometimes familiarity was best.
Not wanting a repeat of Golyon Chi's incident, the Slayer also selected several gallon plastic bags of bacta. It was apparently some kind of healing liquid. Kolto could serve the same purpose, but it simply wasn't in the pirate's directory.
The Slayer finally took from a weapons supply table scores more clips of tibanna gas, and several dozen weapon parts. As he was loading them into a nearby crate, he spotted several oddly familiar shells on display off to the side of the table. He picked one up and examined it. Sure enough, it had a metal bottom, paper wrapping, and indented center.
"Ah, the slugthrowers?" the weapons merchant slyly said. "Those are surprisingly effective 'gainst Jedi. See, their laser swords can deflect blasters. But they'll just melt the slugs, and the hot metal… just keeps going. That laser sword's going to turn into a nightmare for the Jedi."
Of all the ammo the Slayer figured would be a problem to restock, it was his shotgun shells. But apparently they were common even in a galaxy far, far away. There was a lesson in it. The universality and simple effectiveness of a shotgun was nothing to sneer at.
"We will take as many as you can spare," VEGA agreed.
The only thing he insisted on taking that made the pirates object was taking the Crucible speeder. But a simple staredown, plus a raise and clench of his fists, made them back down, and made them all suddenly agree with him, murmuring really, why wouldn't it be unfair for him to take something so reliable?
All the goods were loaded into the green SS-54 assault ship, and the Slayer watched from the side as the Republic officers and pirates alike loaded them in. They had volunteered to do so, and the Slayer didn't want to disparage them.
The Slayer grimly tapped his fingers on his folded arms. Not everything he needed would be found here, but it was all free. It wouldn't be like that forever, though. The Slayer would need to either take what he needed by force or earn it using credits.
Bounty hunting, perhaps. He could force them all out of business. But the Slayer grimaced at the thought of being subservient to others and doing missions like Hondo's for the foreseeable future. What if there was something he needed to do that he wasn't allowed to? What if he was told to do something he knew wasn't right?
No, bounty hunting wouldn't work out. Especially if the biggest hirers were people like the Hutts, which he intended to kill.
Perhaps he could always resort to space-McDonald's. Work the fryer.
"Your customer service skills leave a lot to be desired," VEGA commented upon that train of thought.
Hours passed like this. Last-minute preparations were completed. At last, everything was packed up, and twilight was beginning to settle over Florrum yet again. Floodlights in the courtyard illuminated the Slayer's dark ship.
Daska, Oltrain, and the three other officers boarded the Horn. Nerissa was beside the Slayer, speaking to Kordis in the central courtyard.
"Where's Hondo? I wanted to thank him for his hospitality and initiative in sending the Slayer," Nerissa earnestly said.
Kordis scratched the back of his neck. "Hondo's given instruction that he not be disturbed. Said he had some important private business."
The Slayer shook his head. Iego sets.
"Well, tell him that on behalf of the Republic, I thank him," Nerissa insisted.
Kordis shrugged. "Hondo's not exactly the biggest friend of your Republic. But I'll let him know."
Nerissa smiled and bowed. Then she turned and strode to the Horn's open doors.
Kordis and the Slayer looked at each other for a moment more.
"Next time you come by, I promise I won't try to cuff ya again," Kordis relented. "Not that it… would have made a difference."
The Slayer gave a slow nod.
"Hope you find more scum out there," Kordis bid, adjusting some parts on his mechanical hand. "And wipe it out."
The Slayer couldn't agree more. He gave a thumbs-up to Kordis. And he turned for his ship.
The Horn's cockpit could hold four people, and its hold could comfortably carry up to eight. The Slayer had no problems relaxing in its pilot's chair. VEGA had integrated himself into the system as usual, and his symbol was currently displayed on a holoprojector between the two seats.
In the seat beside him was Nerissa, who was very careful to not touch any of the controls.
"Where are we planning to go from here?" Nerissa wondered.
The holoprojector showing VEGA's symbol pulsed as he answered. "The closest Republic outpost is the Anaxes shipyards. We will drop you off there."
"One of the firmest Republic planets in the mid rim," Nerissa confirmed. "Sounds like a plan."
The Slayer flicked a few more switches and pulled on his controls. The ship began to rise from Florrum's surface. The engines to the side rotated to face horizontally. And the ship turned and blasted at medium sublight speeds through the atmosphere.
The design of spaceships in this galaxy was so great, the Slayer didn't even feel that much of a pressure in the cockpit. It wasn't at all like having an elephant sitting on your chest, like the early astronauts described. Not that the Slayer would have minded if it were so. But the trip up was still bumpy.
Soon the endless expanse of space could be seen. VEGA's first jump point coordinates were set. And the instant they were out of Florrum's gravity well, the Slayer gently pushed on the hyperdrive control lever.
With a deafening blast, the Horn went 1.2 past light and disappeared from Florrum.