Blast it! Son of a Hutt!
The battered panel, riddled with dents and cracks, tore loose from the rest of the structure with a mournful screech and crashed to the floor. Blood streamed from my fists, forming small pools on the ground. But I barely registered the pain. I was simply too enraged. The fury hammered at my mind, demanding immediate action.
Today, I had to collapse the ceilings in several tunnels leading to my home. The Hutt clones were getting closer and closer to the main entrance. It was only a matter of days before they found the way in.
Breathing heavily, I sank into a chair and tried to relax. What kind of terrible fate hangs over my head? The moment I dared to believe in a better outcome, everything began to spiral out of control at a frantic speed.
It was the second week since the formation of the Galactic Empire. All systems were in an uproar: the remnants of the Separatists were being finished off, new laws were being introduced, and new projects were starting. But all this was minor compared to the fact that the number of goddamn clone trooper squads was growing exponentially. The Valley is swarming with them now! Those bastards are setting up camps, bringing in equipment, all for the sake of my laboratory. I'm certain of it now.
I need to get off this planet urgently before they introduce a total inspection of everything and everyone. Laying low in the city is a terrible option. Stories were actively spreading on the HoloNet about how the new government was ruthlessly destroying anyone who opposed it, including criminals. They'll stage another punitive raid and could easily sweep me up, and if I stay hidden here, they'll find me sooner or later.
I won't be able to sell the stashed equipment. No one had credits, and they still don't. I can't sell it to the military, either. They'd immediately arrest me on charges of looting and send me to the mines or factories to build. So, I'll have to get rid of the Jedi lightsaber, and as quickly as possible. It's unlikely to be more than a month before my base is discovered.
"Owner," the metallic head of King poked out from behind the door. "Can I speak with you now without risking my life?"
"Speak. I promise I won't throw local equipment at you anymore."
The bodyguard touched a fresh dent on his chassis and sidled toward me, ready to jump aside at any moment.
"So, may I continue my report?" Waiting for my nod, he spoke. "The number of clones near our base, based on my calculations, is two thousand four hundred, plus or minus one hundred and fifty."
"And what is the point of telling me that?"
"My algorithms advise that we leave the base with the most valuable property as soon as possible, and then leave this planet on the nearest available ship."
"Yes, and the fact that everyone knows what Separatist droids look like, that doesn't bother you? If you go through a scanner, you'll light up like a supernova. Then you'll be sent for smelting. A brilliant plan, my dear friend."
"We will travel on a private vessel. They only check them for cargo, not passengers, and frankly, no one cares about them right now."
"Well, that sounds more logical than before."
"As always, Owner, as always."
"Excellent. Then let's pack up and leave the base today."
The packing was brief. Tossing my weapons, the most valuable instruments, a few food rations, and the lightsaber into a backpack, I was ready to leave. My droid took his most valuable joints, memory chips, and other expensive droid spare parts with him.
Night had already claimed the surface, so no one noticed the two dark figures gliding through the tall grass.
Reaching the cache where the speeders were stored, we were finally able to set off.
Thick clouds reliably concealed the moon; only the barely perceptible hum emitted by the speeder bikes could give us away. Stopping at the top of a hill, I looked back at the cave that led to our home.
The clouds parted for a moment, and the entrance was illuminated by a bright white light. I don't know why, but I waved my hand, as if saying goodbye to the place. It had become a true home during this time. I hope I'll be able to visit it again someday.
Turning around, we raced toward the city. The moon peeked out from behind the clouds again, and it became as bright as day. A pleasant light illuminated the entire valley for kilometers around. The grass turned blue; it seemed as if a vast, enticing, and beckoning sea was beneath us.
The stars lit up the sky like fireflies. If it weren't for the tall grass, constantly in motion from the light wind playfully flitting between the hills, one might have mistaken this scenery for a marvelous painting by an unknown artist. Only two dark figures disturbed the tranquility of the night.
Clone trooper squads flashed on the tops of distant hills several times, but thankfully, they didn't notice us. Reaching the forest, we slowed down; I didn't want to die by crashing into a tree trunk at full speed.
King moved forward, and I followed right behind him. In this makeshift caravan, we reached the city without any trouble.
Low-City glittered with a thousand lights, turning night into day. It had changed drastically since my last visit. The wreckage was gone, replaced by brand-new buildings. Bars and dens had been transformed into sophisticated restaurants and cafes.
People walked around calmly at night. No one was rushing; cheerful laughter periodically rang out. Everyone was dressed, not richly, but cleanly and neatly. The homeless in rags and tatters had vanished; no one had a blaster barrel in sight. How much my homeworld has changed under the Empire!
If my mother and I had lived in a city like this, she wouldn't have had to sell herself to feed us. I would have gone to school, like all the other children, and maybe even been called a genius. I don't think the local school curriculum is any more complicated than the one in my world. My mother would have worked as a doctor or a nurse. We would have lived happily.
My fists clenched involuntarily at these thoughts. I will find Malik and cut him to pieces. A few passersby flinched away from me, and King's cold hand rested on my shoulder.
"Calm down, Owner, you don't want to attract undue attention."
"You're right, thank you. Though, you know what?"
"What?"
"You're probably attracting much more attention than I am."
"You are correct, and I cannot argue with that."
If I were to describe his appearance as briefly as possible, he looked like a mummy. A figure wrapped in a pile of rags, with a sack pulled over the top to conceal the gleam of his metallic chassis. He achieved his goal, but he was probably attracting even more attention than he would have without the costume. So we needed to move as quickly as possible.
I wasn't much better, though. Of my 'normal' clothes, I only had pants; my t-shirt and jacket were worn to shreds. When you're essentially living alone, you tend to forget about the need for good clothing; if it's warm, it's fine. So, against the backdrop of the clean and neat city dwellers, I also stood out significantly.
But fortunately, our appearance didn't attract the attention of the clones, and we reached the Low-City spaceport without a hitch. As it turned out, it was now used for cargo transportation, which was better for us.
"What do you need here, young man?" A sentient being approached from behind. He looked human, but his entire face was covered in tattoos that sharply contrasted with his yellow skin, and small horns protruded from his head. Judging by the uniform, he worked at the spaceport. Well, I already had a plan.
"Good day, esteemed sir. My father sent me to make my first deal. I need to transfer these speeders to... Lothal. We can't sell this equipment to anyone here, and an old friend of his is opening an enterprise there, so he needs any kind of transport. So, here I am, bringing samples."
The Force told me that the Zabrak was hesitating, which was logical. A ragged kid shows up with some scarecrow and tells a story like that. Well...
"My father always taught me to share with those who help me," I said as neutrally as possible. "Please help me choose a ship, and I might accidentally 'drop' something."
His face didn't change, but I distinctly felt a wave of satisfaction radiate from him.
"Alright, alright, kid. Your father speaks correctly. You should always reward good sentients for their help. I know a good man who's flying out soon. Maybe he'll even stop by your planet. Come with me."
We walked between large ships. Pilots, fighters, and droids passed by. Everyone was in a hurry, busy with their own affairs. It seemed that after the destruction of the criminal groups, trade was booming. There were now about four times more huge cargo ships here than before.
Finally, we stopped at a starship. Tilting my head back, I tried to examine the vessel I was about to fly on in detail.
The ship before me was... unique! I hadn't seen anything like it before: gray in color, it resembled a bloated flying saucer that someone had trimmed the edges of, trying to give it cubic forms. As I managed to notice, there was a weapon turret on top. The semicircular pilot's cockpit protruded from the main mass of the ship.
The owner turned out to be an elderly, orange-skinned Twi'lek. His lekku, growing from his head, swayed rhythmically with his walk. Stepping out at the shout of my guide, he stared at me with bewilderment.
"What the Hutt, Grek?" His voice was deep and quiet, as if he had trouble speaking. "Who did you bring me?"
"Calm down, Liv. This is your potential passenger."
"Yeah, right. Does he even have credits? He looks like a complete scoundrel."
Well, it was time for me to intervene.
"I am not a scoundrel!" I protested deliberately. "And credits are earned. Today you have them, tomorrow you don't, but something tells me I'll find them today."
"That's good, but I don't know if there's room, and flying is expensive these days..."
"Liv, just take him. I know you have free space for both the boy and his cargo. Maybe he'll become a regular passenger. You know I don't bring you bad clients."
"Yeah, yeah, I remember."
"That was your mistake back then, and you know it. Load the kid up."
"What cargo? If there are any crates, then excuse me, I'm not hauling unknown junk onto my ship, no way. Life has already served me that dish." Saying this, he unconsciously rubbed his throat.
"I don't have crates, I have speeders. And my father wouldn't be involved in anything like that, do you even know..."
"And where did you even crawl out from?" Liv interrupted me. "You look like a regular country bumpkin, but you speak so smoothly." After exchanging glances, he finally relented. "Fine, load up. Do you know the prices?"
"Nope."
"And where do people like you come from? Anyway, listen..."
It wasn't as expensive as I had thought. After saying goodbye to the manager and subtly slipping a chip with several dozen credits into his pocket, the shrewd Zabrak, apparently feeling the weight, smiled and spun on his heel to attend to his business.
King and I boarded the ship without incident. Though the blasters hidden under my clothes were ready to jump into my hand at any moment. But so far, everything was going smoothly. Our captain, however, wouldn't stop praising his ship.
From the owner's stories, I learned it was a VXH-100 Light Freighter. That didn't tell me much, but I nodded knowingly. In ten minutes, I learned so much that my head started to ache from his incessant, whispering, squeaky voice.
We were launching in five hours. Asking King to wake me up, I fell into a deep sleep.
I dreamed that I was surrounded by a high hall, decorated in burgundy and gold. People in masks sat around, all in expensive clothes and jewelry.
A man was ascending the stage, whose face I could not discern. Only a gold chain dangling from his chest pocket was imprinted in my memory.
Once on stage, the man began to give a speech, the substance of which escaped me. A feeling of impending danger made me turn my head. Suddenly, the lights went out, followed immediately by an explosion. A dark figure appeared in the gap that formed. A red blade erupted from the hilt, held carelessly by a hand encased in a black glove. Golden eyes looked directly at me.
"I see you."
An unseen power lifted me and pulled me toward the feet of this being. The last thing before me were eyes filled with molten gold and a black slit of a mouth stretched into a smile.
I sat up abruptly in the bunk. A slight tremor ran through my entire body; cold sweat was streaming down my back. Fear, an all-encompassing terror of that unknown figure, had completely paralyzed me.
"Owner, are you alright?" King's voice helped me snap out of it.
"Yes, just a bad dream."
"I wonder why machines don't dream? I would like to see them."
"Because you are a droid, and I am a human."
"May I interpret your words as a display of intolerance toward mechanical sentient beings?"
"Of course. No problem. Interpret it however you like."
My hand reached under the pillow, where one of my blasters was stored.
"I apologize, Owner, the hint to shut up and not draw attention has been received. Initiating the 'shut the Hutt up' protocol."
"Hmph," I sighed with feigned displeasure, returning my hand to its place. "You just won't give me a reason to wipe your memory. How much longer until takeoff?"
"Twenty minutes."
"I thought you said you were being silent?"
"And I was. That was a dream, and you were simulating our conversation between us."
"Hahaha, I'll accept that excuse. Stay here; I want to walk around."
Jumping off the upper bunk, I went to wander around the ship. Turning a corner, I found myself in a spacious hangar. The speeders were in their place. Nearby, a pair of droids were loading some containers. The Twi'lek was actively whispering commands to them.
"Liv, may I watch the takeoff?"
Tilting his head back, our captain simply waved his hand, implying 'do what you want,' and returned to commanding his equipment. Well, I'll take that as consent. After wandering around the ship some more, I finally managed to find the control room. I settled into one of the chairs and waited for the captain.
Well, it was worth it. As soon as the Twi'lek entered the room, an astromech droid, an urn on wheels with a round head, rolled in right behind him. After issuing a few commands I didn't understand and listening to his assistant's chirps, the captain stretched, and the show began.
His orange hands fluttered over the control panels. There were constant clicks, the whirring of warming engines, and I could feel the artificial gravity engaging. Finally, the captain pulled a lever, and we began to lift smoothly into the air.
I had flown several times on planes, but this was nothing like it. There were no G-forces, no pressure changes, no plugged ears; it was as if we were still on the ground. But it was clearly visible that we were ascending.
"Controller, this is ship 45CX6, requesting clearance for jump to open space."
"Clearance granted. Have a good flight, Captain."
"Thank you."
The planet beneath us turned into a green-blue sphere that quickly receded.
"'Three,' prepare for hyperspace jump."
The droid beeped something in response, but I didn't understand a thing. How do they even learn that binary language?
"Naturally, on the set coordinates. What kind of question is that?!"
An indicator light flashed on the panel.
"Well, kid, welcome to the wider world."
Saying this, the Twi'lek pulled the lever, and the stars blurred into countless lines. A slight jolt, and we were surrounded by hyperspace.
Five hours: flight normal. It turned out that flying wasn't as exciting as I had imagined. As soon as we made the jump, the captain stretched and went to his cabin to sleep, leaving all duties to the astromech droid.
With a slight sense of disappointment, I went to meditate, hoping to spend the time productively. But even that didn't go well; the dark figure with the saber appeared before my eyes every time. I started three times, and three times I fell out of meditation in a cold sweat with shaking hands.
Time stretched like synth-rubber. Attempts to sleep also failed. The only thing that occurred to me was to review the details of my plan one more time. It was put together on the fly, so reviewing everything again wouldn't hurt.
In the shadow sectors of the HoloNet, I had managed to find a broker who was willing to put the saber up for a black-market auction. We set the meeting point on Lothal, and from there, we would fly on. The final destination was not specified, which was slightly unnerving.
Nevertheless, I was relatively calm. These people needed an impeccable reputation to attract clients. Generally, such individuals are chosen based on comments and recommendations from acquaintances who have already dealt with them. So, honesty was paramount for these sorts of dealers. If there were even the slightest suspicion of a setup, no one would deal with them.
Of course, for a huge payoff, they might betray you, but my credits weren't their biggest score. And considering that I found someone who had been in this business for a long time, such an amount wouldn't interest him. But if anything went wrong, I had no doubt that I could take back what was mine by force.
While I was reflecting, a quiet, sound sleep finally overtook me.
The flight ended far less interestingly than it had begun. After another five hours, we dropped out of hyperspace and landed. The feeling was completely different from what I had experienced before.
Firstly, because I wasn't in the cockpit, and secondly, I had basically slept through the whole thing and woke up only after we landed.
Paying for the services and saying a curt goodbye to the captain, we headed to the neighboring spaceport, where the meeting was scheduled. Unfortunately, time was tight, so I didn't get a chance to admire the planet's views. Oh well, maybe another time.
As soon as I gave the ship's name at the registry, I was immediately directed to a magnificent Naboo yacht. In the sun, it shimmered like a precious diamond; the silver gleam was literally blinding. I think one such ship is hardly cheaper than my saber, and most likely much more.
"Like it?" A man about forty years old with black hair and cheerful blue eyes was standing on the ramp. He was dressed in expensive red clothing, and a black sash, made of something very similar to silk, completed his look. "I bought it from the Naboo government after their Senator Padmé Amidala died under certain circumstances. A dream of a ship, but why are we just standing here? Please, come aboard."
"Hello. I take it you are Ronan?"
"That's right. Please, welcome to our 'hovel.'"
If only I could live in a 'hovel' like that.
"First, I'd like to ask. I have two speeders for sale; I want to sell them, perhaps as an advance on our deal?"
"No problem at all, my dear client. One moment." Taking some object from the folds of his clothing, he tapped out a couple of commands and continued.
"Will a price of six thousand suit you? It's cheaper than it could be, of course, but we're in a hurry, aren't we?"
"Of course, no problem."
"Excellent. Then you can leave them here. I'll transfer the credits to you right now, or would you prefer chips?"
"Chips would be better. I don't have my own account."
"Very well. Now, please come up. Time is slipping through our fingers. And at my age, time is much more valuable than credits."
Stepping up the ramp, I looked around. Wow, I was wrong in my estimation; this ship probably cost a hundred times more than my saber. The interior was luxurious but not ostentatious. It looked like a nice lounge, but when you started to look closer, you realized the true cost of everything. With my worn clothes and King in his rags, we looked terribly out of place here.
Ronan lounged comfortably in a soft armchair, looking at us. Behind his back, a pair of droids appeared seemingly out of nowhere and began setting the table. Judging by the smoothness and grace of their movements, these machines could easily be elite combat units.
"May I see the merchandise?"
"Of course, just a moment." Taking the saber from the depths of my backpack, I activated it.
"It all works. Everything is fine."
"May I look at it up close?"
"I apologize, but no. I don't have a hundred percent guarantee of your intentions. Only after we arrive at the location."
"You don't trust me? That's right. You shouldn't trust anyone or anything, that's why I'm still alive. Well, I can offer you some clothes to choose from for now; you're not going to show up in that, are you?"
"I will gladly accept your offer."
"And your companion?"
"He won't need any."
"How so? Is he a nudist? I have nothing against it, of course, but I doubt the other auction participants will appreciate such a performance on your part."
"Nope. King, show the man."
Shaking himself, my droid shed his cloak. The broker looked at him with curiosity.
"Well, I'll be. What an interesting specimen. That's a Confederacy of Independent Systems BX-series droid, isn't it?"
"That's right."
"Very interesting. Will you let me have him for, say, fifty thousand?"
"He's not for sale."
"Not enough? Fine, sixty."
"As I already said, he's not for sale."
"Hmph," Ronan leaned back in his armchair. "What a pity. It's the first time I've seen a reprogrammed model of that series. Won't you tell me how you managed it?"
"Ten thousand, and I'll tell you."
The broker laughed at this. "You don't let grass grow under your feet. Agreed. I love unique things and interesting stories." Passing a chip to King, I recounted the story of how we met in detail. Ronan listened very intently. When I finished, he was silent, and then he spoke.
"What an interesting approach. Everyone wanted to preserve the droid's combat functions, but you preferred to teach him from scratch. Very interesting. I don't regret paying for that story. Thank you, esteemed client. And now, I ask you to go to your cabin. Everything you need is waiting for you there. We will arrive in three hours. Have a good rest."
Well, if he asks so nicely, I won't refuse. Bowing, we went to the cabin assigned to us. How wonderful it was to sleep on a comfortable bed. The moment I fell onto it, I was asleep. The tension associated with having to leave the planet where I had lived for over ten years, the fear that my plan could collapse at any moment, the chance that pirates might attack us and we'd have to fight, or worse, be left stranded on a broken ship in open space… all my anxieties vanished with sleep.
This time, I woke up a few minutes before landing. We had already dropped out of hyperspace and were simply flying in some system. At first glance, there was nothing interesting here. A star and a couple of planets orbiting it, and a huge asteroid field. Some of them could easily rival Earth's moon in size, I think.
Suddenly, I noticed that one rock was different from the rest. It was moving with the current, along with all the others, but several times it avoided collisions with its neighbors, smoothly bypassing them in a small arc.
"I see you've already noticed our destination," the broker said, standing in the doorway and looking into my viewport. "Since you, dear client, did not bother to order clothes, I took the liberty of selecting some for you. They will be brought to you when we land. I strongly recommend that you do not appear at the station in your current state. The society here is quite arrogant."
"I thank you."
We flew up to the asteroid and entered it through one of the craters. At first, absolutely nothing was visible, but a moment later, the world around us was illuminated by a bright light. The first association that sprang into my head was, mother of the Force, a space-faring Las Vegas. An asteroid casino!
Bright signs, people walking around in expensive suits, women in the most revealing outfits, beckoning people into establishments. Everything glittered and sparkled, giving the impression that literally everything around was made of gold. The expense was palpable everywhere. I feel like the moment I breathe the air here, I'll know what the smell of money is.
The affluence of the local clients was visible in every detail. Even when we landed, the sight of the yachts... Compared to them, ours was mid-class transport. You could buy a planet somewhere in the Outer Rim for one of these toys.
As soon as the ship touched down, a droid rolled down the ramp and presented a sealed package, presumably containing my clothes. Well, I wouldn't keep them waiting. Quickly changing and gathering all my things, I presented myself to my broker.
"Dear client, you are simply irresistible. Let's show everyone who's about to come into a nice fortune. Please follow me."
Ronan walked ahead, along with two bodyguard droids, followed by King and me. I was dressed in black trousers with silver embroidery, soft high boots, and a black military-style jacket, also adorned with silver embroidery—a style worn by some Republic Army officers. A new bag with my belongings hung over my shoulder.
Looking in the mirror, I didn't recognize myself at first. How much clothing can change people. The person looking back at me was not a scoundrel from a forgotten planet but the son of some aristocrat from the Core Worlds. Dark hair, a slender build, a handsome face, a slight adolescent angularity… truly a handsome young man. Only my sunken cheeks and slight thinness spoiled the image. But never mind, once I have credits, I'll fill out. But first, I have to get them.
We walked along streets densely planted with exotic flora, surrounded by premium-class restaurants. The mind-boggling aromas made me practically drool. Though, after looking at the prices in one of them, my appetite sharply disappeared.
A full dinner in a place like that could cost as much as a decent starship. Horrible! Yet, crowds of people were entering and leaving the various establishments.
Sentient beings were actively strolling the beautiful streets. It wasn't overly crowded, but I bumped into people a few times. One small boy even fell from our collision. I had to help him up; he wasn't much younger than me.
He didn't quite fit the general scene. Disheveled and slightly grubby, in clearly ill-fitting clothes that hung on him like a sack.
Bowing and muttering words of gratitude, he disappeared into the crowd, clutching his hands to his chest.
We reached a tall building made of white stone with gold inlays. And what a building it was! Mother of the Force! It was a veritable palace. I was afraid to even think about how much the construction of this magnificence inside an asteroid could have cost. I don't know numbers that high.
While I was staring at the building, mesmerized, the broker said a few words to a droid butler, and we were immediately escorted into a lavishly furnished room. Everything here was opulent, even compared to the street.
"Nervous?" Ronan watched my actions out of the corner of his eye. Is he worried I'll start scraping gold off the walls, or does he think I'm troubled by the impending deal? "Don't be. Everything in this business is built on reputation. Everything will be fine. Ah, here's the organizer."
A short, portly man with an impassive face entered the room. It was as if a stone mask had been placed on the man.
"Hello, Mank!" The broker stood up and spread his arms as if to embrace him, but he was ignored. The organizer sat down heavily across from us and began to drill me with his gaze, remaining silent. "You're so unfriendly. An old friend comes to see you, and you won't even offer a hug."
"Is our agreement still in force?" The man spoke in a surprisingly high voice for his build. "A good buyer has been found; upon learning of your merchandise, he immediately agreed to purchase it at the auction."
"Of course. If anything had gone wrong, I would have warned you. You know me..."
"Show the merchandise," he rudely interrupted the broker. "I need to verify its functionality."
"Certainly, esteemed client. Please demonstrate the merchandise for this stone statue."
Shrugging, I plunged my hand into the bag where my things lay. Pistols? No. Chips? Yes. All wrong. I checked my things again, turned the bag upside down, and emptied the contents next to me.
Nothing.
I physically felt my face go white and my heart begin to pound wildly.
"The saber... IT'S GONE!"
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