SWFF: A Race To Danger Part 6

RACE TO DANGER

I ordered Envy away from me. There were too many things going through my head right now, and I really needed to clear them out. Envy would just distract me from that. Next, I went to my quarters to lay down. I needed sleep that didn’t come courtesy of a stun blast. Processing all of this new information without any outside interference was another must, so I locked the door. Somehow, an ‘exotic herb’ that’s supposed to help people sleep was ingested (I’m still not sure how that happened), and when I woke up, our trip to Tatooine was halfway over.

My head was finally clear and I could think something without actually saying it (I checked…..many,many times). So, I began going over everything again in my head. A few things became clear to me. It was around these few things that I formulated my plan. After I had my plan nearly finished, I went over it a third time and looked for potential holes. When I thought I had them all covered, I called Envy in to go over the plan with me. Continue reading

Stormtrooper in Wonderland - Part 1

Scary stormtrooper

Reblogged from aliceatwonderland:

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Hello, all.  Today I've got a guest blogger from a galaxy far, far away.  You can find him these days on Stuphblog.  His name is Twindaddy, and he is the best storm trooper blogger I have ever met.  This guy has blogged under some extreme conditions

Read more… 1,824 more words

Good morning, Stuph Mafia™!! I've made my way around recently. I've been to a blog just a few miles north. I've been to California. I've been to Australia. I've even been into the rabbit hole before, but this time I fell in. Into a magical place called Wonderland. Perhaps magical isn't the correct word. I think FUBAR is the right word. Either way, go check it out. And while you're there (make sure to clean your shoes before you go in), click the follow button. Alice as a fantabulous blogger and you'll love her stuph™!

The Drun Kenman Annals: These aren’t the droids we’re looking for?

Stormtrooper-Wallpaper

You are not going to believe what happened today, Journal.

When last we spoke I had just been deployed to Tatooine in search of two missing droids.  I still have no idea why these droids are so vitally important, but my job is not to ask.  It’s to obey orders.

These two droids, if you recall journal.

In that vein, my Captain, myself, and a few other troopers were stationed at a checkpoint not far from the Mos Eisley Cantina today when a beat-up old speeder pulled up to our checkpoint.  And sitting on the back of this speeder were the two droids we were looking for.  At least, they sure looked like the droids we were looking for.  What were the odds of two other droids of the same colors being together?  I was ecstatic.  We had found the droids and were going to get off of this barren, forsaken wasteland.  What a desolate, idiotic planet this is.

Off-topic tangent:  Do you know they farm water here?  Why the hell would you live on a planet where you have to grow your own water?  How stupid.

Anyway, so the speeder pulls up to the checkpoint.  The captain stops them and starts asking them questions about the droids.  There was an old man in a dilapidated old robe and a young kid with blonde hair and farmer’s attire in the speeder.  The old man answered the questions and at one point told the captain, “They’re not for sale if you want them.”

I almost broke into hysterics when he said that.  The guy was a good actor, I’d give him that.

But then, something strange happened.  The old man subtly waved his hand and told the captain that those weren’t the droids we were looking for and to move along.

Nice try nerfherder, I thought.

But then the unthinkable happened.  My captain agreed.  ”These aren’t the droids we’re looking for,” he announced to us.  He then motioned to the young man driving the speeder and commanded him to move along.

My captain is a complete imbecile.

I couldn’t believe it.  If not for my helmet my jaw would’ve emphatically dropped to the sand.  The worse part about it was that my captain did this.  It’s not like I can just berate the man for being a complete idiot.  I was livid, but I just about chopped my tongue in half when I bit it to keep myself from going off on this fool.

That wasn’t even the worst part.  A short time later we were sent to docking bay 94.  We had received a tip that the droids had been seen heading that way.  So we all busted tail over there.

When we got there the droids were already on board a decrepid CEC YT-1300.  There was a lone man by the boarding ramp when we busted into the docking bay.  We exchanged fire with him but he quickly escaped up the ramp into the ship and then it blasted out of the bay.  With the droids on it.  The droids we were looking for.

I’ll probably be permanently stationed here now because of my incompetent and idiotic captain.  I hope he gets slaughtered by sand people on our next patrol.

Today sucked, journal.  It was probably one of the worst days of my life.

Drun Kenman, signing out.

The Drun Kenman Annals

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Dear journal,

I’ve decided to start keeping a daily record of my life as a storm trooper in the hopes that someday someone other than myself may find it interesting.  Here goes my first entry ….

It’s 0600 Galactic Standard Time.  It doesn’t matter that I’m stationed on this crappy little dust-covered planet, or that there are two suns baking this barren wasteland.  I have to get up and report for duty.

Patrolling Tatooine has got to be the worst assignment I’ve ever been given.  Especially since I’m stationed in Mos Eisley.  Thank goodness there is an air filter built into my helmet.  I can’t imagine what this place actually smells like.  And I have no desire to find out.  I’m sure the heat cooking all these disgusting aliens creates a stench so repulsive it would fry my olfactory receptors.  Stupid aliens.

Cantina Mos Eisley

Look, even the kriffing cantina is made of sand.

All of this because of two stupid little droids, too.  I wonder what the Empire is coming to.

093

This is the picture they gave us of the droids we’re looking for.  They don’t even look real…

I woke up early this morning just so I could write my first entry.   I plan to use this journal to chronicle the more interesting moments of my life.   And believe me there are many since I’ve been stationed here.  With all the aliens here and all of the thugs working for Jabba the Hutt, plus the Mos Eisley cantina,  I’m dealing with a plethora of idiots and thugs on a daily basis.

Well, journal, I’ve finished my caf and it’s time for my shower.  I’ll check back with you later to let you know how my day went.

Drun Kenman signing out.

A special thanks

Earlier this year I posted (over 14 different posts) a piece of Star Wars fan fiction that I had written.  I prefaced each post with a request for constructive criticism.

Only one person did so, and I’d like to thank her.

Elyse over at Fifty-four and a Half provided me with some very good feedback and some very helpful suggestions.  About halfway through writing the story I focused more and more on finishing it and told myself I would look over her suggestions later, and I have finally done that (I’ll procrastinate later) and made almost all of the corrections she suggested because, hey, she’s a brilliant writer and I’d be dumb not to take her advice.

So I just wanted to publicly say thank you to Elyse and let her know how much I appreciated her efforts.  She follows roughly 30 or more blogs and still found time to not only read my crap, but then play editor with it as well and it meant very much to me.

So thank you, Elyse, for your time and efforts.  They were very much appreciated.

 

Superman Fan Fiction: Part 1 of 2

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I’d like to preface this with a few words. As I’ve said in previous posts, it’s been many years since I’ve read any comic books, so I have no idea what is now happening in the DC Universe. This story is in no way tied to any other Superman or DC story. This is just my attempt at writing a fun Superman story. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy it.

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“I know that you’re behind it, Luthor,” he said in an accusing tone.

The bald man looked at him curiously, as if weighing what he was about to say. After a few seconds, he spoke. “I could lie and take credit for whatever it is that’s troubling you, Superman. I’d love to be the one who gets you this angry, but, for once, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Superman had been dealing with Lex Luthor long enough that he could usually tell when Lex was lying to him. This time, either Lex was getting better at acting, or he was telling the truth. He had to be sure, however, so he went at the man again.

“Don’t try to pull that on me. I know that the machinery that attacked me came from a subsidiary of Lexcorp called…”

Before he could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by Luthor’s secretary buzzing in on the intercom. “Your 3:30 appointment is here, Mr. Luthor. Should I send him in?”

Lex clicked the button to talk back to her. “Please do.” After releasing the button, he turned back to Superman and said, “My company has many subsidiaries. I can’t personally oversee them all. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have actual business to attend to.”

Superman wanted to stay and question him more, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Lex was actually telling him the truth this time. He left Lex’s office and flew to the top of a nearby building. Using his super-hearing, he listened in on the beginning of Luthor’s conversation. It was just normal business talk. Trying to get Lex off of his mind, he tried to piece together what had happened last night, but it was still all fuzzy to him.

============================================================================

He had been flying home last night when he heard a woman cry out for help. Seeing that she was being chased by a man. Something about the man seemed off, but now he couldn’t remember what it was. Using his x-ray vision, he saw that it wasn’t a man that was chasing the woman. It was a robot. Superman swooped down, grabbed the robot, and dragged it into a nearby alley. He raised his fist and prepared to punch, but first he decided to see if the robot was intelligent.

“Why were you chasing that woman,” he asked.

Instead of an answer from the robot, he heard someone else say, “Now!” Suddenly there was a loud screeching sound inside his head. It was so painful that he dropped to his knees and put his hands over his ears, but it didn’t help. Through the pain, heard a deep voice say, “Superman, you are under my command. You want to do what I say. Stand up!”

Superman felt no urge to do as the voice commanded. All he felt was pain. That’s when he heard a second voice. This one was small in comparison to the original, as if it was in the background. The new voice was barely audible over the screeching noise and it seemed to be speaking in gibberish, as he couldn’t understand what it was saying. It appeared that the person responsible for the second voice was speaking to the deep-voiced person, because as soon as the gibberish stopped, the deep voice answered.

The deep voice said something about how Superman’s Kryptonian heritage was somehow interfering with their machine’s ability to control him. Then, there was another stream of gibberish. Apparently becoming angry, the deep voice threatened to break the other one’s finger. At this point, Superman didn’t care about their technical difficulties or their bickering. All he cared about was getting the screeching noise out of his head. Hoping that the robot was still standing where it was when this started, he cocked his fist back and punched with all the strength that he had left.

He connected with a solid blow and the noise stopped. The next thing he remembered, he was laying in the alley beside the broken remnants of the robot. Whoever had done this to him was long gone. Superman grabbed as many of the intact pieces of the robot as he could carry and flew them up to his friend in Gotham City. That was where he had learned of the robot’s connection to Lexcorp.

============================================================================

Now, it seemed to him that the connection was a dead end. Superman went back to listening in on Lex’s conversation, but it still sounded like any other business meeting. Of course, Luthor was smart enough to know that he might be listening in and was waiting for him to leave before talking about the failed plan. He decided to stick with his gut feeling that Lex was being honest this time and was just about to leave when he heard Lex’s secretary burst into the room.

“Mr. Luthor, turn on the TV. Godzilla is attacking the southern part of Metropolis!”

“I’m not in the mood for any jokes,” he replied in irritation.

“I’m not joking, Mr. Luthor,” she said as she hit the power button on the remote control.

Superman flew out to where he could get a look at Lex’s television, thinking, like Lex, that his secretary must be either joking or mistaken. She wasn’t. On the screen was live footage of Godzilla attacking his city. He might have laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation if people’s lives weren’t in danger. The Man of Steel was not about to let those people get hurt, so he flew as fast as he could to pick a fight with Godzilla.

Taking A Break

I haven’t been able to post regularly in a while. Some of this is due to my work schedule. I get off work at 7 every night and by the time I get home, it doesn’t leave me a whole lot of time to spend with my wife. As much as I’d like to post more, I’m trying to spend as much time with my wife as I can before the baby is born. Once our daughter is here, we won’t have much alone time anymore. I also have been spending a lot of time getting our daughter’s stuff together. Today, I spent almost an hour-and-a-half putting together one of the worst designed rocking chairs ever made so we’d have someplace to sit with our little girl in her room. Any other free time I have (when I’m not going over to twindaddy’s house for Memorial Day) is spent trying to get in as much video game time as I can before her birth. Playing video games is another thing I won’t have too much time to do after she gets here.

I actually do have a little time to write. Unfortunately, it’s on my breaks/lunch at work and I don’t have a phone that will allow me to post on this site. My phone’s internet is barely good enough to post onto Facebook. Instead, I’ve actually been working on a couple of new stories, which means I’m taking a break from my rewrite of Dead Set. As I said in my Terminator post, I’m working with a bunch of comic book nerds. I used to collect comic books myself. I didn’t stop because I didn’t like them anymore or anything like that. I stopped because I just couldn’t afford them anymore. The comic book nerds at work have been filling me in on some of the things that have happened in the comic book world since I stopped reading them. This, in turn, has given me a couple of ideas for stories.

The first is a Superman story. I was never a big Superman fan, but I came up with a story for him that I think is awesome. I’m sure that at the end of the story, most actual Superman fans will call my story sacrilege, but I don’t care. The other story is an X-Men story. This story will contain a member of the team that, I’ve been told, they killed off a few years ago named Chamber. I started liking Chamber when he first appeared in Generation X and it kind of upsets me that they had him die, so I’m going to use him anyway. I’m also introducing some characters that I’ve come up with and the story will be as much about them as it will be about the X-Men.

The Superman story shouldn’t take me too much longer to finish and I’ll put it up as soon as I’m done. Hopefully, you guys like them.

Star Wars Fan Fiction: The Last Hunt Part 14

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The Last Hunt

Please feel free to offer constructive criticism in the comments. I know this will not be perfect and I will have made mistakes. Thank you in advance. Please, please, please leave feedback. Honest feedback.

IT WAS a 12-hour journey back to Tatooine.  It was a fairly uneventful trip.  Staphon kept to the cockpit.  Doing what, I did not know.  Muehlenkha was in his quarters.  He still seemed distressed, but I judged that whatever it was that was bothering him he wasn’t ready to talk about yet.  Since my shipmates were occupied, I lounged in my own quarters during the trip.  I was completely bored, and eventually fell asleep.

I was awoken some time later by the navicomputer alert that signified that our destination had been reached.  I sat up in my bed and wiped the sleep from my eyes.  I groggily sauntered out of my quarters and, disoriented, made my way to the cockpit.

Staphon looked over his shoulder when he heard the cockpit door open.  “Hurry up and sit down.  I’m about to take us out of hyperspace.”

I quickly slid into the copilot’s chair and fastened my harness.  Staphon looked to ensure that I was indeed buckled in, then slid a lever up on the console.  The Titan exited hyperspace.  Before us loomed Tatooine, a smooth, beige ball of dust floating in space.  I still had trouble comprehending why anyone would voluntarily choose to live here.  I also couldn’t fathom why Jabba would build a second palace here.  There was literally nothing here but sand and vermin.

We again docked in Mos Eisley.  I sent Staphon to rent a speeder.  After a handful of minutes, Staphon returned with a 4-seat speeder.  Muehlenkha donned his Jawa façade while I collected Dash from his makeshift prison cell.  I slapped the door controls.  As soon as the door opened, Dash, still cuffed, came charging through the door with his right shoulder down in an attempt to bowl me over.  I lithely spun out of Dash’s path and kicked him in the rump as he passed by.  The extra momentum from the kick in the rear sent Dash head first into door of the crew quarters across the hall.  There was a loud metallic thud as his head struck the door, then Dash crumpled to the floor.  I laughed, despite myself.  I couldn’t help it.  It was funny.

“So, you’re a crack pilot and an expert marksman, yet a lousy pugilist?” I sneered.  “Tsk, tsk, tsk,” I said while wagging my index finger back and forth.  “What, did you skip that day at the academy?  Please try not to injure yourself.  Jabba would like you unharmed.”

Dash looked up at me from the floor and grimaced, then let loose a furious storm of obscenities which derided my mother and threatened to do grotesque things to me when he was free.  It was quite a show.  I actually learned some words I would have to look up later.  After I grew tired of his tirade, I attempted to tell him to shut up a couple of times, but was unable to interrupt him long enough to give the command.  I eventually ran out of patience and kicked Dash in the temple, knocking him out cold.  Staphon and Muehlenkha helped me carry Dash’s unconscious body out to the speeder.  They propped him up in the rear seat and fastened his restraint, which was more difficult than usual because Dash still had his hands bound behind his back.  We received some odd looks while we bore him out to our speeder, but if there was one thing the denizens of Mos Eisley knew well it was to mind their own business.

Once that was accomplished, then we loaded ourselves into the speeder and embarked on our journey to Jabba’s Palace.  We were not prepared for what we would find.

The first thing we noticed upon arrival at Jabba’s Palace was that the massive gate was wide open and unguarded.  That struck me as odd and immediately put me on guard.  I parked the speeder just to the right of the door, and unloaded Dash from the speeder.  We had him roughly halfway out of the speeder when he came to and began thrashing and screaming incoherently.  We managed to get him the rest of the way out, but he continued to struggle.  I grabbed him fiercely by the throat and slammed him viciously into the palace wall.

“Look, Rendar, don’t make me knock you out again.  You’re going in there one way or the other and I’d rather you walked than us have to carry you.  So what’s it going to be?”

Dash began to thrash around again.  I, still with my grip on Dash’s throat, pulled Dash forward then slammed him back into the wall again.  “Dammit, Rendar, you can go in there healthy and try to escape or I can cripple you out here in order to get you in there.  If I cripple you you’ll have no chance to escape.”

Dash suddenly calmed down.  He seemed to realize that I had the ability to carry through with his threat, and also that I was correct.  He was skilled enough to escape whatever crude prison was inside this dilapidated palace.  Rendar opened his mouth to speak, so I loosened my grip on Rendar’s throat.  “I’ll . . .” he hoarsely began, “I’ll cooperate.”

I released him.  “Good.”

I stepped to the side and gestured toward the open gate, “After you.”

Dash went in first, followed by Muehlenkha and Staphon.  I entered last.  The palace was not as I remembered it and I was beginning to feel extremely uncomfortable.  There were no lights on, no guards, no activity, and no noise.  The palace was deserted.  Or so it seemed.

“Where’s the guards?” I  said aloud.

Surprisingly, it was Dash who answered.  “I don’t know, kid, but I gotta bad feeling about this.”

Staphon then chimed in, “Yeah, me ,too, young man.  You don’t get to just walk in to Jabba’s Palace.  Something’s up.”

I agreed with them.  “Stay alert.  Let’s head to his audience chamber.  Maybe he’s here and in an unusually trusting mood today.”

“Yeah.  Sure, kid.” Dash said flippantly.

“Sarcasm, Dash.  Sarcasm,” I retorted.

We were just about to the stairwell and the end of the grand hallway that led to the audience chamber when a Dug surprisingly emerged.  The Dug locomoted on its powerful arms around the corner, and held a blaster with its right foot.   While my companions and I were able to stifle any rash reactions, the same could not be said for the Dug.  It began to loudly maunder and then started wildly shooting.  I was able to dodge two of his shots before Muehlenkha tackled the dug and then disarmed it.  It continued maundering until I asked if it spoke Basic.

The dug stopped and looked at me curiously.  “Yes, but you’re not getting my loot!  I was here first and I won’t go down without a fight!”

I had absolutely no idea what this Dug was talking about.  “Whoa, whoa.  Back up.  What loot are you talking about?  What’s going on here?”

“You mean,” the Dug said disbelievingly, “you don’t know?”

I looked at each of my compatriots in turn to see if perhaps they knew something I didn’t.  Each of them looked to be as perplexed as I was so I answered, “Know what?  What are you talking about?”

“Jabba’s dead, mouthbreather!” the Dug vociferated.

Incredulous, I asked, “What do you mean, Jabba’s dead?  How can that be?  When did that happen?”

“It happened days ago, idiot.  Everyone’s been in here looting the place,” the Dug retorted.  “You think Jabba just leaves his palace gate wide open?”

“Alright,” I began, fed up, “I’ve had enough of your attitude you little piece of. . .”

“Hey!” Dash interrupted.  “If he’s dead then get these kriffing binders off of me!”

While my attention was turned towards Dash, the miniscule Dug scurried away hurriedly.  I opened my mouth to command the creature to halt, but then realized it wasn’t worthwhile.  Everything the Dug said had made sense.  If Jabba was alive, the gate wouldn’t have been open, there would be guards patrolling, and there would be droids and other creatures scurrying busily about the palace.  I dejectedly realized that all of my efforts the last month and a half have all been for naught.

However, on the bright side I was now free to choose a career more to my liking.

It was Staphon who brought me back to reality.  “Hey!  You in there?”

“Huh?” I dumbly asked.

“I said,” Staphon said, emphasizing every word, “what are we going to do now?”

I  considered the question momentarily.  Then:  “I guess we head back to the Titan and confirm the news.  Once we confirm it, we’ll set Dash free.”

Dash then intruded into their conversation.  “Hold up, kid.  You’re just gonna let me go?  No strings attached?”

“Yeah, why not?” I asked Dash as if he were a child that had asked a stupid question.   Which, he truly just did.

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll come after you?” he posed.

I shook my head.  “Not really.”

He seemed insulted that I wasn’t threatened by him.  “You should be.  I’m a force to be reckoned with.”

I sighed impatiently.  “Are you trying to talk me into killing you, Rendar?  I don’t have, nor have I ever had, any desire to kill you.  You of all people should understand that this is just business and nothing personal.”

“Yeah,” Dash conceded, “I guess I’m still sore over how easily you took me.  Well, “he said nodding toward Muehlenkha, “over how easily how took me.”

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of.  He can still take me and I’ve been trying for years.  C’mon.  Let’s go.”

We left Jabba’s palace and embarked on the journey back to Mos Eisley.  I consulted the holonet once we had returned to the Titan, and found out that the Dug had indeed been telling the truth.  Jabba was aboard his sail barge roughly two weeks ago when it blew up near the Pit of Carkoon, wherever and whatever that was.  The news article mentions that a group of Rebels led by Luke Skywalker and Han Solo somehow lured the Hutt and three of his sail barges out to the Pit, where they destroyed two of the barges, one of which carried Jabba.  The article goes on to mention looting at Jabba’s Palace and general lawlessness around Mos Eisley for the week afterward.

Lawlessness in Mos Eisley, I thought, that’s quite the newsflash.

We had placed Dash back in the single crew quarters upon our return to the Titan, so it was obviously there where I found him to advise him that he would be freed.  I opened the door to the quarters, and cautiously entered.  I needn’t have worried, though, as Dash was asleep on the bed.  I nudged Dash until he woke.

“What is it, kid?” he said though a yawn.

“Hey,” I said lamely.  “Turns out Jabba’s dead after all so you’re free to go.  They bounty was placed by him and I have no idea if anyone else even knew about it.  We’re heading back to Nar Shaddaa if you wanna tag along.  I know you’re ship’s there.”

“No, no it isn’t.” Dash said thoughtfully.  “At least, it shouldn’t be.  Leebo should have figured out by now that I’m not coming back and left.”

“Who’s Leebo?” I inquired.

“He’s my copilot.  Anyhow, as to your offer. . . I think I’ve had about all the hospitality from you that I can stand.  No offense.  Besides, I have a way to get a hold of Leebo.  I’ll find a place to lay low until he gets here.”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Yeah, I think so.  I need to ask you a favor, though, kid.”

I raised an eyebrow.  “A favor of me?”  I was surprised he would ask me for anything.

“Yeah, kid. I did my best on Coruscant to make everyone think I’m dead.  I’d like to keep it that way for a while and I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention that I’m still alive.”

I nodded.  “I can do that.”

“Uh, can you unbind me now?”

Oops.

“Yeah!  My bad.” I pulled the keys to the binders from my pocket.  Dash rose from the bed and turned around so that I could unlock the binders.  Once the binders were off, Dash did what every man (or woman) does when cuffs are taken off: he started rubbing each wrist with his hands.

Dash turned back around and plopped back down on the bed.  “So what you gonna do now that Jabba’s dead, kid?”

I scratched my head.  “I haven’t the slightest idea.  I moved to Nar Shaddaa to become a smuggler, but ended up becoming a neophyte bounty hunter instead.”

That comment drew a laugh from Dash.  “Yeah, neophyte is right, kid.  I gotta hand it to you, though.  You’re pretty scrappy.  You’d probably make a decent smuggler.  I’ve done some work for the rebellion and I have a contact that who can probably get you steady work hauling supplies for them.  You interested?”

“Well, sure.  But out of curiosity, why would you be willing to help me?”

“Let’s just say it makes us even.  I hook you up and you tell no one that I’m alive.  Deal?” Dash proffered his hand to me.

I accepted his hand and shook it.  “Deal.”

“Great,” Dash continued, “Here is my contact’s comlink code.  His name is Calrissian.  I think you’ll like him…”

The End

Star Wars Fan Fiction: The Last Hunt Part 13

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The Last Hunt

Please feel free to offer constructive criticism in the comments. I know this will not be perfect and I will have made mistakes. Thank you in advance. Please, please, please leave feedback. Honest feedback.

WE DOCKED in Shug’s Spacebarn upon our return to Nar Shaddaa.  I arranged with Shug to replace the proton torpedo I had spent trying to capture Rendar, and also to resupply the ship with rations and other necessities.  Muehlenkha stayed with the ship to facilitate the supply transfer while Staphon and I headed to the Orange Lady to have a couple of drinks.

“So,” Staphon said once we had ordered our drinks from the bar and found a table, “what’s eating you, young man?”

Staring blankly down at my mug, I responded, “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Do what?” Staphon asked quizzically.  “Drink?  Young man, if you quit drinking I think we’ll have a tough time getting along.”  Staphon then laughed at his own joke.

I didn’t laugh.  In fact, I was annoyed by Staphon’s sophomoric attempt at humor.  I sighed deeply; then explained myself to Staphon.  “I’m tired of being a bounty hunter.  I don’t have the patience for it and I definitely don’t like being one misstep away from being the next target on Jabba’s list.  I need an out.  I’m also a bit uneasy with the whole thing.”

Staphon seemed to consider that for a moment in between a couple gulps of Corellian Ale.  “Well, you’ll at least need to finish this or you’ll end up with a price on your head.”

I took a huge swig from my own Corellian Ale before disconsolately saying, “I know.”

“If you don’t do this, what would you do instead?” Staphon inquired.

“I came here with the intention of becoming a smuggler.  I think I’d rather do that the hunt down and possibly kill people that don’t always deserve it.  I have no problem taking out the Cregan Kon’s of the galaxy.  I have no problem taking out thugs who make the galaxy unsafe.  They deserve it.  But all Rendar did was thwart someone else from being murdered.  The longer I’ve thought about it the more I’ve come to doubt what I’m doing.”

Staphon nodded his head as if he understood perfectly what I was saying.  “Young man, smuggling is as dangerous as bounty hunting.  You run into an Imperial patrol you’ll have a fight on your hands.  They could blast you into dust or send you to the spice mines of Kessel.”

“Yeah, but it’s not as far south on the moral compass,” I countered.  “Besides. . .”

I was interrupted by an alert from my comlink.   I snatched my comlink from my belt and answered it.  “This is Afcuyo.”

“Afcuyo Fraden, the Outrider is in the system,” Muehlenkha’s voice rasped through my comlink.

That news perked me up immediately.  “What do you mean it’s in the system?”  Did he track us?  Where is it currently?”

“I do not know,” my Noghri friend unhelpfully unanswered.  “The homing beacon only reports what system it is in.  It does not report more specific information.”

“Okay, we’re heading back now.”  I clipped my comlink back to my belt.

I had suddenly gotten what I wished for, albeit very unexpectedly.  How had Rendar tracked me?  Or had he tracked me at all?  Maybe he was here for the very same reasons I was here.  This is the Smuggler’s Moon, after all.

“Did I hear that right?” Staphon asked, interrupting my self interrogation.

“Yeah, Rendar’s somewhere in the system.  Let’s go.”   I nimbly rose from my chair and turned towards the door.

What happened next took me completely by surprise and almost made me lose control of my bowels and bladder simultaneously.  I may have even screamed like a little girl, but I cannot recall.

The unmistakable sound of a blaster firing rang out in the cantina.  Before I could even identify the sound or react to it, a crimson bolt of energy buzzed my head, leaving a few of my brunette locks smoking.  The smell of burnt hair permeated the air.  Silence blanketed the cantina as wholly as if someone had pressed the mute button on a holoprojector.  “Whoa!  What the…” I began.

“Gotchya, kid,” an arrogant yet familiar voice smugly said.  I focused on the speaker and found that Dash Rendar had indeed tracked me down.  “That was a warning shot.  Don’t try anything stupid.”  Turning his attention to the other patrons of this sparsely populated cantina, he said, “Everybody else out.”

The few patrons in the cantina wanted nothing to do with whatever was about to go down so they quietly left.  Staphon tried to leave with them, but Dash waved his blaster in Staphon’s general direction, “Not so fast, old-timer.”

Staphon began muttering obscenities under his breath while going back to his seat.

Once everyone had left the cantina, Dash said, “So, Afcuyo Fraden, huh?  Where’s your pet Jawa?”

I slightly raised my eyebrows in surprise.  I didn’t know how Dash had figured out my identity, but this did not bode well for me.

I bet those Bothans told him who I was and that I was after him.

“That’s right, kid.  I’ve got sources, and they’re more substantial than you know.”  He let silence hang in the air for a moment before continuing.  “Look, kid.  You don’t want to mess with me.  I’m out of your league.  And honestly, kid, I would’ve smoked you already but I need to know how you’re tracking me.  I’m sure you’ve got some device on my ship, but I’d like you just to tell me where it is so I don’t have to dismantle my entire ship.  So I’m willing to make you a deal.  Tell me where the homing beacon is and I’ll let you walk.  Then you forget that you ever found me.”

I didn’t respond immediately.  I was very seriously contemplating Dash’s offer, but there was no way to accept it without invoking the wrath of Jabba.  “You know, Dash, I would love nothing more than to do that, but if I forget you then I’ve failed.  If I fail Jabba then I end up with a price on my head.”

A smirk materialized on Dash’s face.  “I’m not concerned with Jabba, kid.  That giant worm can lick the bottom of my boot after a long walk on Raxus Prime.”

Well, that’s just nasty, I thought.  On second thought, Jabba might enjoy that. 

I said as much to Dash.  “He’d probably like that.”

“Nevertheless, kid, I don’t care what Jabba may or may not like.  I’m only concerned with. . .”

Dash never had a chance to finish his sentence.  Muehlenkha, who seemed to appear from thin air, tackled Dash from behind.  He never saw Muehlenkha coming and, quite frankly, neither did I.  I had no idea how or when Muehlenkha had gotten there.

Dash had dropped his blaster when Muehlenkha assailed him.  Dash’s arms and head were thrown violently back such was the force with which Muehlenkha had hit him.  Dash hit the ground torso-first, his head and other extremities second.  Muehlenkha swiftly grabbed both of Dash’s arms and pinned them behind his back.

The joke was there, and I couldn’t resist.  “There’s my ‘pet Jawa’,” I quipped. I quickly ran over and scooped Dash’s blaster from under the table where it had landed.  “Muehlenkha, do we have a way to tie him up?”

“Yes, Afcuyo Fraden, “Muehlenkha responded.  “I have the binders which we appropriated on Bothawui.”

I looked to Staphon.  “Can you cuff him?”

Staphon strode over to where Muehlenkha had pinned Dash on the floor.  He removed the binders from Muehlenkha’s belt.  He then slapped them onto Dash’s wrists.

“You made this easier than I thought it would be, Dash,” I scoffed.  “Thanks.”

Dash said nothing, but laid there seething.

“Let’s get him back to the ship quickly,” I said to my companions.  “Someone may be helping him.  He found me pretty quickly.”

It turned out that Dash had no help.  Either that or his help was completely incompetent.  My friends and I were able to get Dash back to the Titan without incident.  Once aboard the ship, we locked him inside the single crew quarters.

Staphon headed towards the cockpit to run the pre-flight checklist.  I tracked down Muehlenkha in his quarters and asked him how he knew Rendar had found me.

“I did not know, Afcuyo Fraden,” he quietly answered.  “I hadn’t the slightest idea where he was and for that reason felt I needed to come to you in case Dash Rendar found you.  It was only coincidence and fortuitous timing that I arrived when I did.”

Wow, I thought.  It’s about time some good luck came my way. 

“Well, thanks.  I was in a pretty tight spot.”

Muehlenkha said nothing in return, and seemed slightly troubled.  “Hey, is everything okay?” I asked.

“Do not be concerned about me, Afcuyo Fraden.  I am fine.  We must finish our assignment, yes?”

That was a dismissal if I had ever heard one.  Muehlenkha evidently had no desire to discuss what was bothering him.  “Sure,” I said, then left Muehlenkha and headed to the cockpit.  I made myself a mental note to ask him about whatever may be bothering him in the future.

By the time I had made it back to the cockpit, Staphon already had the coordinates for Tatooine programmed into the navicomputer and was merely waiting for me to sit down and strap in before engaging the hyperdrive.  I strapped in and punched the lever myself and we were once again bound for Tatooine.

Star Wars Fan Fiction: The Last Hunt Part 12

cover-blog
The Last Hunt

Please feel free to offer constructive criticism in the comments. I know this will not be perfect and I will have made mistakes. Thank you in advance. Please, please, please leave feedback. Honest feedback.

WITHOUT STOPPING, I yanked my comlink from my belt and, with it, frantically commanded Staphon to prep the Titan for launch.

“I’ve had it ready the entire time you were gone, young man” came Staphon’s response through the comlink.  “After Bothawui, I’m not taking the chance of not being ready to launch with no notice.”

I clipped my comlink back to my belt and continued sprinting back to my ship.  We finally reached the ship and ascended the boarding ramp.  I slapped the ramp controls as I ran by, raising the ramp.  I told Muehlenkha to head for the gun well while I headed to the cockpit.  We had already left the starport by the time I had gotten to the cockpit.  “You got him?” I demanded.

“We’re on him, but his ship is faster,” Staphon answered.  “I’ll try to catch him, but I doubt we can.”

I pondered my predicament for a moment.  “If we get him, great.  If not, we’ve still got a homing beacon on his ship.  I’m heading to the turrets just in case we’re needed.”

Staphon shook his head.  “No, you can control the turret from here, young man.  Not as accurately, but you can do it.  I need you here in case we need to use the proton torpedoes.  I can’t do that and fly the ship.”

I saw the merits of Staphon’s logic and plopped down into the copilot’s seat.  I strapped in, put on a headset, and focused on the tactical screen in front of me.  The Outrider had already left Ord Biniir’s atmosphere.  The Titan was just now doing so.  “He’s going to be far enough away to go to hyperspace soon,” I  announced.

Staphon spared a quick glance at his tactical screen.  “We’re going as fast as we can.”

“I know,” I acknowledged.  “Bringing up shields and targeting systems just in case.”

As I was bringing up the targeting systems, a change on my tactical screen drew my attention.  I looked through the viewport to confirm what it told me.  It did.  “Um, he’s gone into attack position.  Looks like he wants to fight.”

“Yep,” Staphon agreed.  “The deflectors up, young man?”

I double checked before answering.  “Yes.”

“Proton torpedoes loaded?”

I again double checked.  “Yup.”

“Do you know what turret you’ll be using?”

I had no idea.  Before I could answer, Muehlenkha’s voice hissed through his headset, “I am in the bottom turret, Afcuyo Fraden.”

“Thanks, Muehlenkha.”  I used the override in the cockpit to take control of the top turret.

This would be my first space combat, and I was feeling more than a little nervous.  My adrenaline was pumping and I could feel my heartbeat throughout my body.  A strange tingling sensation was radiating through my extremities.

I wasn’t sure if there was anything else I should be doing, so I asked, “What now?”

“Well, we wait ’til he’s in range.  Hit him as many times as you can to weaken his shields.  Once his shields get close to collapsing we need to target his engines because we want him alive.  I wouldn’t use the proton torpedoes except as a last resort.”   Staphon looked at me as if my doubts were being broadcast on my face, and then said, “Look, you can do this, young man.  I know this is your first real action, but you know how to do all of this.  Get it done, baby!”

I appreciated Staphon’s confidence in my abilities, but that didn’t quell my fears.  I was violently yanked from my thoughts by the sudden turbulent shaking of the ship.  Laser blasts were streaming from the Outrider’s laser turrets into my shield like water from a faucet.  And we were the drain.  The Outrider was at maximum range, so the hits were more annoying than damaging.  That knowledge, however, did little to comfort me or my anxiety.  Muehlenkha and I returned fire.

The two ships continued to close on each other.  Troubled by the apparent intent of both pilots to ram the other, I asked, “You trying to see who will flinch first?”

“Something like that,” Staphon answered.

“So,” I wondered aloud, “what happens if you both flinch the same way?”

Staphon didn’t immediately respond.  Then, after apparently mulling it over, he said, “Um, I don’t know.”  He then altered the Titan’s course slightly to the right, just enough so that it was no longer on a direct collision course with the Outrider.  Muehlenkha and I adjusted our aim and resumed our unrelenting barrage on the Outrider.   “What are his shield readings?” Staphon asked.

I quickly glanced at the technical readout on the console before me.  The data there did not please me.  “It doesn’t look like we’re making a dent in them,” I reported.  “He’s still nearly at full shield strength.”

No sooner had I finished my sentence when the targeting system let out a high-pitched howl, indicating that it had acquired a target lock on the Outrider.  I had forgotten I’d activated the targeting system.  Reasoning that laser cannons were, up to this point, ineffective, I decided to fire one proton torpedo at the Outrider.

“Heads away!” I loudly announced upon the successful firing of the torpedo.  The torpedo quickly closed in on the Outrider.  Just as the torpedo was about to collide with Rendar’s ship, however, it barrel-rolled to the left causing the proton torpedo to sail harmlessly by.

Man, that guy can fly!

Having finished his adroit evasive maneuver, Dash again brought his vessel into the direct path of the Titan and again began a collision course with us.  He began to close and close fast.

Sithspit!”  Staphon spat.  “He’s on a collision course with us and closing fast!”

I immediately glanced at my tactical display and saw that Staphon was correct.  I suddenly had an idea.  “I wanna try something.  Set a collision course for the Outrider.”

“What?!” Staphon screamed disbelievingly.  Had he not been piloting he’d have surely been giving me a look that clearly conveyed that I was insane.

“I believe that to be, ah, tactically unwise, Afcuyo Fraden,” Muehlenkha’s voice said to me through my headset.

“He’s not suicidal,” I hypothesized.  “He’s not going to ram us.  So let’s call his bluff.”

“This is stupid!” Staphon declared.  “A minute ago you told me not to do this.  Now you are?

“Just do it!” I barked.  “If he wants brinkmanship, he’s got it”

“Whatever,” Staphon surrendered.  He then put the Titan on a collision course with the Outrider.  He pushed the sublight engines as hard as they could go.

Both ships closed rapidly on each other.  The closer they were, the more nervous Staphon seemed to become.  Muehlenkha and I continued furiously pouring blaster fire into the Outrider’s shields even though it seemed a fruitless endeavor.  Finally, the two vessels were upon each other.  Just before impact, the Outrider dipped below the Titan, avoiding collision.  Staphon breathed a huge sigh of relief while I gloated. “See I told you he wouldn’t. . .”

I was never able to finish my sentence.   I was interrupted by the most vile string of obscenities I’d ever heard fly out of Staphon’s mouth while he concurrently, and violently, banked starboard.  If not for my restraints, I would have been thrown from my chair.

“What the hell was that all about?” I loudly inquired.

“Moron,” Staphon muttered.  “That torpedo you shot was still behind him and it almost hit us when he flew by.”

“Sorry,” I rejoined caustically. “Like I was supposed to know he could just dodge a kriffing  proton torpedo.”

“Look, young man,” Staphon began, “I say we jet and track him.  He’s a better pilot than all three of us combined and on stimulants.”

Before I could respond, the ship again began to shake violently as laser blasts rained down upon the Titan with brutal accuracy.  I immediately checked the Titan’s shield integrity and found that they were holding, but we were outclassed, out-gunned, and being out-maneuvered by Rendar and I didn’t want anything else to do with this fight.   Just when I had worked up the nerve to tell Staphon that we should get out of dodge, Rendar’s assault on the Titan suddenly ceased.  We both furiously studied our consoles to find out what Rendar was up to.

I noticed it first.  “I think that torpedo finally caught up to him because his shields have nearly collapsed.  His shields are currently at 10% capacity.”

“You are correct, young man,” Staphon said happily as he put the Titan through a 180 degree turn.  He quickly spied the Outrider and adjusted his course to pursue.  “No more torpedoes.  His shields are almost gone.”

“Works for me,” I acquiesced.  Then, to Muehlenkha, I enjoined through the com, “Light him up, Muehlenkha!”

Both Muehlenkha and I unleashed a ferocious barrage of laser bolts upon the Outrider, which had now changed tactics and was en route to the quickest possible course to get out of Ord Biniir’s gravity well so it could jump to hyperspace.  Unfortunately, I would not be catching Dash Rendar this day.  Rendar’s sublight drive was considerably faster than my own, and Rendar was slowly pulling away.  We kept firing anyhow, but the shots were ineffective from this distance and didn’t require much energy from Rendar’s shields to absorb the shots.

“He’s running, baby!” Staphon announced.

“Yeah, not exactly what I hoped for,” I sardonically remarked.

“Hey, we survived,” Staphon argued.  “It didn’t look like we were going to for a while.”

“Yeah,” I agreed distantly.  “I’m not patient enough for this.  I just want it over with.”

Staphon didn’t respond for a moment.  Off in the distance, the Outrider disappeared from view as it made the jump to hyperspace.  Then:  “Well, the homing beacon is still working.  We’ll have to plan better next time we have him cornered.  We’ll get ‘im next time, baby.  In the meantime, I say we head back to Nar Shaddaa to get some supplies.  We didn’t have many to begin with and we’ve been away from home longer than I thought we’d be.  We’re running low on almost everything.”

“Sure,” I said dejectedly.  I programmed the coordinates to Nar Shaddaa into the navicomputer.  “Coordinates are set.”

Staphon yanked on the hyperdrive lever.  Stars elongated into lines and the Titan was then entirely encapsulated in a tunnel of the intense white light of hyperspace.