STAR WARS - Dawn of Extinction (A Dark Times Adventure)

Prologue

The dark room was cold and an even colder draft came in through some cracks from the outer wall. It was always dark in Coruscant, but it felt that the flats above the Crimson Corridor were covered in the uttermost darkness of the Galaxy.

Brea Marr has never been the girl that got off easy, but this time, things were different. Running and hiding from the Empire's lackeys was the greatest challenge she ever had to face, but deep down, Brea was determined to come on top of it, taking her chances against the odds.

Her blaster had been the closest thing she had to a friend for some months now and she made sure very often to keep her friend clean and happy. Seated on her knees, between the two beds aligned parallel to the edge of the small room, she had disassembled the pistol and followed the usual routine of cleaning the barrels and the trigger. She could hardly breathe, trying to focus on doing it without a sound, ever vigilant and mindful of her surroundings. Any time of her day -or night- had the potential of becoming a perfect time for some merc or bounty hunter to jump into her dirty hide-out and go for it! Make the arrest of a lifetime...

Meanwhile, in the Outer Rim world of Bespin

This night couldn't be any better. There was no unsatisfied client and every player in the Casino was having a really good time, regardless of winning or losing. It was well-known after all that "the time of your life is waiting for you, at the Living Planet Hotel and Casino".

Mare Ondus was gliding amidst the tables, dancers, security personnel and intoxicated customers. He had a wide smile on his face, projecting his satisfaction on how well his estate was fairing recently and now in particular, with the Empire only four months in existence. Every other rival businessman was having the most difficult time to hold on, but not him. Just like every master-player, Mare Ondus had a very special card up his sleeve.

While heading from the Casino to the hotel, , his holocommunicator signalled as Mare stood at the edge of the long air-pad corridor connecting the two grand estates. Hovering towards the latter, he brought up the image of a protocol droid. If he didn't know any better, , it was rather obvious that his metallic employee was under stress and feeling uncomfortable.

"Greetings, H2. What is the matter?"
"Master Ondus, I am very sorry to bother you on such a prosperous night, but you need to come to the front office, as soon as humanly possible"
"I'm already heading your way. Will you tell me what's so urgent?"
"There is a certain delegate here waiting for you, sir. He says he is a diplomat in the service of Emperor Palpatine himself."

15 minutes ago, the Zi-Kree sector, Coruscant

"I need to do this right", he thought to himself. "There is no margin for errors this time. I must get over with this annoying mission and get off-planet, before I end up filling the Moff's death-list."

Ke'elon Ionis could have never predicted what his destiny had in store for him after the Clone Wars. Imperial business was one way to put it, but he knew very well that he was just being held hostage. He knew very little about the deal he cut two months ago. He was pretty sure that the Imps did not know of his connection to the Force, or else he wouldn't be alive now, chasing down fugitives. He also knew that the Empire did not want this manhunt to take on official proportion.

That's why he did not have any credentials or ID on him. That's why when or if he succeeded he would just leave the evidence in a safe-house and never contact his employers. That's why, if he failed, he would be dead...

But this was not the case. He would simply burst into the room, arrest the runaway -or kill her if she resisted- strip her of the stolen data and head for the rendezvous-point. He clinched his teeth, adjusted his hood to hide as much of his face as possible, took out his blaster and touched the durasteel , trying to sense whatever was happening on the other side of the door.

At the same instant, at a random junkyard on the low-levels of Coruscant

She came around to her senses without knowing how much time she had been unconscious. She looked around, but her eyes hadn't been accustomed to the darkness and she couldn’t discern anything just yet. Her head felt heavy; she thought it would blow-up any moment now. Taking a good look at her surroundings, she couldn't figure out where she was. Or why. Or more importantly, who she was...

Trying to realize what had happened, she tried to remain seated and empty her pockets in search of clues - in vain. There was not a single entry on her datapad, of which she too had no memory of acquiring, but it was pretty obvious that it wasn't stolen or violated in any way. Oddly enough, she had a hold-out blaster pistol hidden on the right sleeve of her seasoned tunic.

Before she tried to stand on her feet, she heard strange voices from behind the junk rubbles that provided a basic cover to her.

"Don't move stranger! Don't move, or we're gonna blast you as you stand!"
It felt completely natural to her to reply to a threat with one of her own, as if it were the correct thing to do.

"Are you sure you are going to make it, before I blow up all your heads?"

"You've got some nerve there, girl. I'm gonna enjoy killing you, after all!" said the harsh voice that betrayed the existence of a breather that most probably belonged to some Kel'Dorian bandit.

"Whenever you are ready", she replied and standing near the edge of the junk pile, she tried to get a glimpse of her attackers. As soon as her head came out over the corner, a blaster fire sounded and an energy bolt came her way incredibly fast. The shot was extremely close.

"Is that the best you can do, you troglodytes?" she cried out, not letting her fear become visible. With an unconstrained staccato move, she skillfully released the blaster's mechanism in order for it to be delivered into her palm while still in hiding, and she shot at her attackers blindly with as much accuracy as she could guess towards their direction.

The situation was getting worse, since she understood she was soon going to be surrounded. The worst part was that she had done nothing, but wake up in the middle of nowhere, without any knowledge of how and why. And death's threat was closing in up on her...

STAR WARS


DAWN OF EXTINCTION


The Clone Wars are over! Almost 4 months after the Galactic Empire's establishment, the War's consequences are still visible. The Galaxy does not seem capable of healing its wounds.

With the fruition of a 1000 year old master-plan, the Sith are ruling the Galaxy. Emperor Palpatine and his fearsome right hand, Darth Vader, dictate everyone's lives, using fear and desolation. The War's end finds the Jedi declared as traitors of the Republic and murdered in cold blood by their own troops, while the few escaping the unexpected Order 66, remain in hiding to survive the relentless purge that Lord Vader has cast down upon his -not so long ago- fellow defenders of peace and justice.

In this catastrophic climate, the lives of ordinary citizens of the Galaxy have been put aside. This would seem the perfect opportunity for anyone that has the reflexes and resources to grab it and play a role in shaping the fate of the Galaxy...

https://swdoe.wordpress.com/prologue/

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CHAPTER 1

Ke'elon pressed his hand hard against the metallic door. Trying to ascertain inner peace, he closed his eyes and brought up the words of the Jedi in his mind. "There is only peace" he recited and meant to extend his senses through the door, inside the room. It was not an easy task for him. After all, he had never taken proper and complete training.

"One should never consider the Force as a means to achieve any given desired goal" his Master would often say. "It is but the substance that binds life together and along with the gift of controlling such a powerful element, comes the responsibility of serving life itself. Controlling the Force does not make you omnipotent. And neither should you think of yourself as superior to others, who find it difficult to communicate with the Living Force. Such is the way of the Sith and their tyranny. As complacent as the Galaxy has become, since the Jedi vanquished the Sith over a millennia ago, we should never forget what the evil of the Sith is capable of. If only there could be a way of showing the horrors that come with absolution to the common people... Then nobody would defy the role and duty of the Jedi..."

Her words were now more apropos than ever. This Galactic Empire, ruled by the Sith had only begun to show its true face, regardless of how they had ruined his own life so far. Now, it was coming down to absolute size. Now it would affect everyone's lives. Now, it would ruin all life...

These thoughts distracted Ke'elon and he lost his focus for only just a moment, but that’s all it took. His head already felt quite heavy from trying to probe the room, so he moved on to his second plan of action: Burst into the room, catch his victim off-guard, throw in a stun grenade and use his binder-cuffs to complete the arrest. Sounded like a good and solid plan. What could go wrong? He was a clone-wars veteran, although he was no more than 25 years of age.

Un-pocketing a piece of equipment from his utility belt, he placed it on the door and moved two steps away from it. A few "bweeps" later came the sound of the lock opening, and a green light appeared on the keypad placed on the wall, to the right of the door. He grasped his blaster firmly and took a deep breath. Moving towards the door triggered the sliding mechanism that revealed the room dark and empty. With his off-hand, Ke'elon threw at the centre of the room a stun grenade, which flashed like lightning and provided partial visibility for some split seconds. He couldn't make out any moving silhouettes through the thick darkness.

He rushed inside with his arms stretched out before him holding the blaster and once he came halfway in, he shouted clearly "in the name of Emperor Paplatine, you are under arrest for conspiring against the Empire".

No response came from the other side of the room. The grenade had damaged the ventilation circuitry at the ceiling and every five or so seconds, small amounts of current released from the destroyed cables flashed and buzzed. It was the only sound that could be heard apart from his heavy breathing which revealed his fear and anxiety. Uncertain of how he should proceed, Ke'elon made a few steps forward, his eyes scanning the room constantly. He was now surrounded by a strange feeling of something more than fear.

He knew that this was his last chance. Had the imperial information brought to him been fixed to frame him? Had he made another foolish mistake? Could it be that his bounty was never in that room and there was a rat in the Imperial Information Agency? His mind was playing the same tricks again, his vision blurred and his head felt like it was being pressed inwards by a wookiee berserker. In that instant, a dark figure jumped behind two beds that appeared to be the only furniture in the deserted flat. And that, perhaps, was the last thing Ke'elon Ionis would see...

***

"You will never get me, Imperial scum! Die, die, dieeeeee!!!!!!" she shouted as she landed in the space between the hacked door and the intruder. The human had a black-market blaster pistol in his hands and black hood which did not allow Brea Marr to make out his facial features.

While making for her escape she fired twice at her attacker and started running towards the exit, without even taking notice if her shots landed. She thought she knew the schematics of the building by heart, but she never expected that a stun grenade could make such a mess of her head, causing her to lose her sense of direction. "There's a first time for everything" she thought, and tried to gather her wits for the final run to safety. Before long though, she knew that she was still being hunted down.

The first blast never found its target, but the second one struck Ke'elon straight on the chest. The protective vest absorbed as much of the energy necessary as to keep him alive, but it was enough to drop him to the ground. The pain was excruciating, but being alive was still better than being executed by an Imperial Moff, so he had to push through and get on his feet as fast as possible.
Brea Marr was running down the main corridor, turning back every now and then to glimpse at her assailant who was gaining ground on her. As they passed through a series of empty flats, they came across an opening that housed the two 20-person lifts. Thinking blazingly fast, Ke'elon shot both of the elevator touchpads with accuracy.

"Stop! You have nowhere to go! Surrender and let's get this over with!" he shouted at her but all he got in response was two more blaster shots. Thanks to his military training, he was able to avoid both, but the dodging gave Brea all the time she needed to blast the security door open and move quickly towards the staircase, leading all the way to the ground floor.

Ke'elon gathered himself up once more and followed in the girl's direction, who had fled down the staircase with uncanny speed. Whenever he thought he had eye contact and could shoot her in the back, she was already turning to the lowest level, making him even angrier. He chased her all the way down to the ground floor, where she fired another round at him, but this time it was even easier for Ke'elon to dodge the energy bolts, due to him holding the higher ground. Once again though, he had to slow down, which allowed Brea Marr to run through the main exit and vanish in the vastness of Coruscant's lower levels.

The thought of losing her for good made him reckless; for he ran full speed at the exit, only to find Brea pointing her gun at him as soon as he passed the double door.

"I don't know who you are or what you want with me. But if you want to keep on breathing, you will stop hunting me right now!" she said as she started squeezing the trigger.

Ke'elon stopped, raised his hands above his head and took a breather. He tried to speak, but Brea Marr didn't let him even open his mouth. "Not a word, creep! You lie down or I put you down..." she said, but before she finished her sentence, the young man made a rapid move with his hands as if he were pushing the air. This movement threw Brea against the wall behind her, even though Ke’elon never physically touched her.

The impact made Brea lose her breath and before she could understand what happened, Ke'elon had already overwhelmed her. "It will be over, soon" he thought as he applied the binder-cuffs on her left wrist, but before he could tie her right hand as well, Brea gathered as much of her strength as she could and hit him hard, moving her knee in an upwards fashion, striking his chin. Ke'elon fell on his back, almost unconscious from the vicious blow.

With steady moves, she took his blaster off him and since her own was way beyond her reach now, she pointed his on the top of his head and told him slowly and clearly
"You've had your chance. It didn't have to end this way. Too bad you are slow learner."

She lowered her voice until it was completely covered by the sound of energy gathering inside the power cell of his blaster. While he knew his end was imminent, he remained calm and perhaps for the first time in a very long time, he was at peace...



https://swdoe.wordpress.com/2015/06/14/chapter-1/

CHAPTER 2

Mheros Nuk was a man of medium height but there was something in his overall posture that made him look physically bigger than what he really was. In truth, he never was a great fighter, nor an excellent marksman, but he had always been an astonishing tactician and from his early years in the Imperial Academy he had shown a natural knack for battle planning and hard fought diplomacy.

He was waiting patiently in Mare Ondus' office, paying attention to the slightest details that could provide leverage against the accomplished businessman he was about to meet. There was one thing that struck his mind: being in this situation many times before, he had never seen such a plain and minimalistic decoration of a private office. Most of the Casino owners filled their personal quarters with any kind of extravaganza mainly for reasons of showing-off but subconsciously exposing an image of authority and power.

What could be more intimidating to an uprising sabbac star than the gloves of a famous champion in a display and a Holo-graph descriptor highlighting the date of his defeat? “Many of these ludicrously rich money-makers would have to pass some hard-pressing re-evaluation”, Nuk thought, for it was vital for the Empire to get a grip on their taxable income. And the sooner, the better, for all he cared.

It wasn't long before the door of the office slid open and a middle-aged human appeared, sharp features, dark of skin, black hair -with the exception of white on his temples- topped to the side, dressed quite elegantly wearing a silver suit and a purple cape with matching silver details.

"I hope you did not have to wait long. You should have informed us of your visit, so that I would have the elite suite prepared for you. It is not every day we have the honour of hosting an Emperor's envoy in our humble establishment" said Mare Ondus with a smile and a silver tongue, surely matching his clothing.

"It is not necessary. I am here on Imperial business, not leisure. So, do not bother yourself with such commodities, for my time is valuable and I must get straight to the point of my visit here".

"By all means, mister..."

"Mheros Nuk. Lieutenant Commander of the Imperial Army, currently assigned to the economics and resources department. I understand Mr. Ondus that affluent residence and gambling are not your sole operations here on Bespin. You happen to be one of the most successful tibana gas mines owners, if I am not mistaken."

"You certainly are not Mr. Nuk, but let's not exaggerate. It is just a job, like any other in the Galaxy. No need to make a big deal out of it. With the War over after all, tibana gas requirements have dropped more than 300 percent" declared Mare Ondus, who thought that the envoy has been sent for taxation reasons. He had already heard stories of how the Empire treated the wealthier of the galaxy, even though the Hutts or other criminal organizations hadn't been touched yet.

“There is no need to be modest, Mr. Ondus. The Empire is well aware of your financial status. We also know that you provided the Army of the Republic with valuable tibana gas, which certainly counts in your favour, but you should also consider that the Empire has many enemies, both inside and outside of its new-born structure, something that means that a well organised and strong army is necessary to keep our citizens safe. Moreover, a strong Imperial Army is the only answer to the threats we constantly receive by terrorist organizations targeting not only our Emperor's life, but our society as a whole.”

“I must admit I admire your dedication to the citizens of this tormented Galaxy, Mr. Nuk. Rarely have I met such a passionate individual, sworn to protect the common people in my field of business. I wonder, though, how do my operations interest the Empire? Have you come to me with a specific proposition?”

The diplomat moved in his seat, perhaps due to the fact that he was feeling uncomfortable with Ondus getting on the offensive, since he was accustomed to hearing complaints and arguments on the demands he was stating, rather than small talk of “propositions”.

“The Emperor is not a man that forgets, Mr. Ondus. Nor does he forgive, though, so you should bear that in mind. The help you provided the Republic with was valuable. And now, the time has come again for you to show your dedication to the Galaxy. The Empire requires you to provide our army with 75% of your yearly gas resources; further, the taxation for the rest 25% that you will be at liberty to sell to any other party interested to buy will be increased to 60%.”

“Sixty?! You are talking about an increase rate of more than 100%, from the current tax of ¼ that applies to every businessman's income in the open market. On top of that, we are talking about the income I can make from what will be left, after the Empire empties my stock-houses. In the long-term, this is going to be devastating both for the market and the Empire itself”.

“The Empire will be in position to control the market and by this I mean that every businessman will have exactly the same chances to profit. The Republic ended up being a corrupted government, that instead of caring and providing for its citizens only existed to serve the few privileged with fame and fortune. Many people took advantage of their position or birthright to become even more famous. Εven wealthier! Εven stronger!!! The line of corruption led straight even to the Jedi Temple, a place far from the slightest suspicion! You are well aware of the rest, I should guess.

This will be tolerated no more! The Empire has already stabilized the political system and it will soon enough be in control of the markets, industrial and mineral production, succeeding in the ultimate goal: equality and prosperity for every being in the Galaxy.”

“I really am moved by your vision, Mr. Nuk. I cannot imagine myself not contributing to this goal. But, all these years of experience have taught me that giving the same opportunities to everyone does not necessarily yield the same results for everyone. I must admit that the plan you are talking about concerning the Galactic economy will backfire. For it is not always about getting the head-start. Most of the times, it has to do with the initiative, the risks involved and how well does one read the signs.”

“Either way, Mr. Ondus, this is not a debate. If you cannot comply with the Empire's demands, we will find someone else who does who can easily take over your operations and willingly provide what is needed.”

Mare Ondus didn't like that at all. Being threatened inside his own office wasn't something he was used to and although he wasn't known for any underworld activities -as was the case with many of his colleagues- he didn't like the idea of some Imperial diplomat throwing an ultimatum to his feet. He was not going to surrender without at least trying to make the most out of this twist of his fate.

“There is no need to get ahead of ourselves. I never said that I am not willing to help the Empire. But this transition will require some time. I need to inform my employees, have a long discussion with my accountants and evaluate whether it is in my own interest to be involved in such a deal, or if the proper course of action on my behalf would be to sell the mines. Perhaps the Empire would be interested in buying the facilities and keep every square of gas mined?”

“The Empire is not a company, Mr. Ondus. If we wanted to apply such an unfair procedure, we would confiscate your facilities and advance the original plan without asking. But we do not wish your economical breakdown. You have until tomorrow afternoon! By this time tomorrow, I would very much like to offer the Emperor the good news he is waiting for. And you can trust me on this - the Emperor is not a man whom you would like to disappoint.”


https://swdoe.wordpress.com/2015/06/14/chapter-2/

τι ναι αυτό;

Μία νουβέλα Star Wars που γράφω όποτε ξεκλέβω λίγο χρόνο. Είναι τοποθετημένη χρονικά 4 μήνες μετά τα γεγονότα στο Episode III: Revenge of the Sith.

Ξεκίνησα να τη γράφω εδώ στο φόρουμ, αλλά εν τέλει έφτιαξα κι αυτό: https://swdoe.wordpress.com/

ok. να δεις λίγο και το ποστ από τον φουντάκια που έγραφε κάτι ανάλογο εδώ μέσα για να πάρεις και καμιά καλή ιδέα

Αν κατάλαβα καλά, προτείνεις εμφάνιση του θρυλικού Sith Lord Darth Chivanas και του assassin droid FU-E.T

Quote:

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Originally Posted by OniBocho

Αν κατάλαβα καλά, προτείνεις εμφάνιση του θρυλικού Sith Lord Darth Chivanas και του assassin droid FU-E.T

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πίνκαρα.

"Move out! Go around the piles and take her out! We don't have much time!” said the Kel'Dorian and without delay the rest of the crew followed his orders. The way they moved around, betrayed a familiarity that could prove life-saving, since all of Coruscant's junkyards looked alike and getting lost in one was hardly difficult. Endless fields of debris, dead machinery, obliterated vehicles and in many cases gangs of rag men, prepared to kill or be killed for a handful of spare droid parts. After the CIS made their assault on the planet, the low levels have been filled with any kind of war left-overs. A grotesque painting of scarred images and painful memories from a past so grim, that the smell and taste of liberty were now long forgotten.

As were her memories, something that made her even more frustrated than the fact that she was under attack by a bunch of brutes, with no understanding of the reason. Or the place. First things first, though. She needed to survive this strange encounter and then find out what was going on. She moved away of her spot quickly, trying to find a place that could provide better view and concealment. Her eyes found a plateau among the hills of waste, a few meters away towards the opposite direction her attackers were on.

She fired blindly twice, just to pause their momentum and ran as fast as she could, trying to keep her body low and her head bent between her shoulders. With an elegant and agile pirouette she fired once more and got a slight chance to look behind her, then immediately took a dive ahead rolling on the ground, followed by a strong leap that got her almost to the top of the small hill she was trying to reach.

“Yes! I made it” she thought, but the sound of blaster fire didn't leave much time for celebration. The shots almost got her on the back of her left thigh, but she was lucky enough to move at the last second, just before her leg took the place of the now exploded battle droid's arm that was buried there for who knows how long. The explosion made a lot of noise and a fog of dirt rose, almost as if it was meant to hide her in its dusty embrace. Extremely lucky once more, none of the metallic splinters hit her.

Using her right hand as brace, she took cover behind a mound of earth and metal, from where she could take a better look at the strangers chasing her, once the fog settled down a bit. They were six: two Rodians, a Trandoshan, a Clawdite and two Kel'Dorians. She could make out their faces quite clearly now, but there was no memory of any of them in her mind. The apparent boss, started screaming to his minions.

“She's just a Togruta girl. She can't be gone in thin air! Find her or the boss will be very angry! You know how he hates to lose such investments! Spread out! Now!”

“Investment? What's that supposed to mean? Who could have profit by me? I'm nobody! What do these people want with me? Do I owe them credits? Do they work for some slaver? If only I had some grenades, I could take them down right here, right now, and begone with it!” she thought impulsively, but only momentarily. She knew she had to stay focused, if she wanted to survive and learn anything more about her past.

Her only chance was to lay low and wait. In order to take them down, she needed to separate them, since they started to spread searching for her. The first one to get isolated was the Kel'Dorian who gave out the orders. He was impatiently waiting for the others to do the hard work, so he never left his spot.

Trying to relax her breathing and steady her hand, she fixed her eyes on the gang leader and got prepared for the shot. It felt surprisingly easy and natural for her to take down the unsuspected enemy, as if it was something on which she had been trained thoroughly. As her finger was tickling at the trigger, her whole body entered a state completely strange to her, yet absolutely familiar. Minutes after she has been hunted, she was now the predator.

She thought that something flashed in her eyes, so she blinked twice. Nothing. Then she felt a peculiar pressure in the back of her head. Pain. A discolored image of a white haired man fading away in the distance. A ghost.

Her vision became clear again, but her mind was now elsewhere. “Who was that man?” “Do I know him?” An urgency to remember woke up inside her, but no matter how hard she pushed herself, her memories remained completely blank. Afraid she might lose her focus, she closed her eyes to clear her thoughts, but a cold shiver went all the way down her spine and brought her back abruptly. It was that moment, when it happened! The young Togruta felt dizzy, as if small amounts of electricity stroke the inner parts of her brain, sending out signals of paralyzing pain to her entire nervous system.

Just before hitting the ground, the girl gave out a reserved scream, which was enough to betray her position. The Kel'Dorian touched his visor to adjust the lens focus and when he made sure that he recognized his target, he fired his blaster and shouted at the others to join him!

“There she is! She's hiding up there! Go get her, you morons! We are running out of time”

The Trandoshan and the two Rodians ran back towards their chief and following his barking orders they started climbing the small hill. The girl had dropped on her right side in a fetal position and remained still, only this time due to pain and confusion. She felt her heartbeats increase faster than a jump to light-speed, but was completely unable to move, as if she was hit by a stun baton.

“Come on, come on, grab her and let's be done with it” the Kel'Dorian whined, but his phrase was interrupted by the Clawdite's voice, who came running from the other side:

“We've got to move out, Tel Kan! The patrol will be here any moment now! Leave the girl here, we'll find someone else for Gorga! No need to risk our necks for just one Togruta slave! The Galaxy has millions of refugees! Gorga didn't specifically asked for this wench!”

“Lubor is right, Tel Kan” said the other Kel'Dorian. “We need to split now! If the patrol finds us abducting people, the boss will let us rot in some Imp prison and we're done for life! Better leave empty-handed, than not leave at all.”

Tel Kan stood silent for a few seconds, then with a sudden move he gave the order to move out of the place. The three climbing the hill cursed and spat the ground, mostly the Trandoshan who was already sweating heavily under his reptilian skin, by his effort to reach the top.

Their hasty departure had not been realized by the unconscious girl, who was found lying on the ground folded in the same stance by a quartet of flying patrol droids. The buzzing sound of the droids hovering above, woke her up. Her first reaction was to crawl backwards on her back and raise her hands when she found a solid surface behind her. The droids came closer, visor and holo-cam lenses moving constantly back and forth. After a few bweeps and other incomprehensible sounds, the four droids flew away from the hill and she was now left completely alone in this dreadful junkyard.

Trying not to think what has transpired, she got on her feet and from the height she was standing, examined her surroundings. It wasn't very easy at first, but she managed to figure out the pattern according to which all this wreckage was placed, so guessing where the exit laid, was now a lot more sensible.

And so, she decided to follow the only thing that made minimum sense... The way out...



http://swdoe.wordpress.com/2015/07/25/chapter-3/

"Don't move! Raise your hands in the air and turn around slowly."

"She's got an illegal blaster! Arrest her, troopers!" yelled Ke'elon who was still on the ground, bleeding and in a state of daze.

"You have three seconds to throw the weapon to the ground and move away from this man. Anyone of you tries anything funny and we won't hesitate to kill you both!"

Brea Marr turned to face the three stormtroopers with great frustration and despair. The last thing she needed was an arrest by this district's patrol, just days before she skipped Coruscant and vanish somewhere in the Outer Rim sectors. What had just happened, was really hard to believe. She managed to face yet another bounty hunter, but in doing so she violated one of her primary rules: "Never take a fight in street level, when you are trying to lay low and be invisible".

And above all, this pathetic man that tried to take her in, was now endangering her even more, by revealing such a detail that could prove critical, in an Imperial court of Law. “How could he possibly have acquired a DX-2?” she thought as she examined the gun in her hands for the first time.

Two troopers flanked her, keeping their rifles steady at point blank aiming straight to her head, while the third picked Ke'elon up from the ground. As he was trying to stand on his own feet, he mumbled. “You have to arrest her! She was trying to kill me!” he said in a way that revealed how nervous he was in the troopers' presence.

“Be quite, citizen. You will explain everything to our superiors.”

“You don't understand, sir! I'm working for the Emp...”

“Silence. I will not tolerate any more of this whining. You either keep quite or I'm dragging you all the way to the Imperial Headquarters unconscious.” said the trooper in a manner that left no margin for further dispute.

As he passed in front of him, to take his place on Brea's side, Ke'elon made an imperceptible gesture with his left hand and spoke with a calm, steady voice to the trooper that lift him from the ground, who was wearing Captain's markings on his pearl white armor, that betrayed his authority over the rest of the squad.

"We have done nothing" he suggested.

It was the trooper's turn to change attitude and speak in a surprisingly peaceful way. "Truth is, they have done nothing. There is nothing unusual going on here."

"We were just talking intensely." Ke'elon said once again, sounding even more confident than before.

"They were just arguing. This incident is out of our jurisdiction."

Gathering his wits, Ke'elon now called upon the Force for a final solution to this farce. "You will let us go, now!" Ke'elon said and moved his hand in the same manner as before.

Brea Marr gazed at him with surprise and found it hard to believe this sudden change of behavior. No response came from the Captain. Ke'elon could not see through the helmet's visor, but it felt like the trooper was puzzled and stunned.

"You will let us go!" he repeated, moving his fingers again in the same way, now clearly nervous and somewhat afraid. To no avail.

“We will let... You can...” the enormous soldier sounded confused and completely disoriented.

"Are you out of your mind, CT50? They are both going to the barracks and we'll let the investigators decide what will be done with them!" said one of the two troopers on Brea's side, angrily and decisively.

CT50 moved his head repeatedly from his co-patrolmen to Ke'elon and finally, switching the hold of his blaster, he struck the already in much pain human in the kneecap with the coupler of his E11.

“I told you to keep your mouth shut, citizen. You are under arrest! Move forward and be quick about it!” said the trooper and skilfully switched the rifle in its original place, aiming Ke'elon's head.

This inexplicable mystery of life called fate has now put predator and prey together in a cage whose bars would not bend easily. But it was the hunter now that feared the most. For Ke'elon knew that this was his last chance. As far as the authorities were concerned, he did not exist and as soon as this fact surfaced, he would be in much trouble. No cover would come by the high-ranks who blackmailed him, nor would he be able to plead for trial, since he had officially died four months ago. “I'm as good as dead” he thought to himself.

Brea Marr gave a look at Ke'elon and she instantly knew that he was about to collapse any moment now. His black hood revealed his messed up long brown hair that combined to the look of his eyes -big, green but hollow, with enormous black circles underneath- completed the image of an neglected, sleazy man . He had the expression of someone being haunted by nightmares, of a person who was carrying a terrible burden on his shoulders, that were hanging like a miner's do when he's drinking Corellian ale at the local cantina, after a 12-hour long shift. Oddly, although she was about to kill Ke'elon only moments earlier, she now felt pity for him. An empty, shallow sentimental mixture of sorrow, disgust and disdain for the human wreck who was struggling to keep up.

As they were walking through the lower districts of Coruscant, their eyes caught glimpses of neighborhoods made of every material you could possibly find in the streets. Parts of speeders and deformed wings of fighters that have crashed during the CIS invasion or pieces of blast-doors that were now serving as rooftops to the impromptu erected huts. Brea even noticed a wall made of clone trooper's helmets. What was even more peculiar was that the residents of these sheds were all aliens, off-worlders that were evidently living in the fringes of the planet, mainly because the Empire didn't have the time or couldn't spare the resources to settle them somewhere, she thought.

It felt as if they were passing through a ghetto, full of terrified pairs -or in many cases triplets and quartets- of eyes, devastated people of the Galaxy cut off from their home-worlds, who never thought possible that a day would come that they would want to leave the capital but they couldn't. People who would never understand how decisions of others, would irreversibly affect their lives. People who could never believe that the three year long war that splintered the Republic would have its biggest impact in the heart of the State and four months after the Emperor promised peace and security for every citizen in the Galaxy, their beds would be made out of the Trade Federation's battle droids' arms and legs.

Marching hastily in the middle of the street, the troopers met a rather unusual obstacle. A Mon Calamari baby had escaped his mother's attention and crawled all the way in front of them, being attracted to the shining white leggings of the stormtroopers' bright armor. All five of them halted when the youngling hugged the front trooper's leg as if it was a toy or perhaps because it reminded him some part of his crib, only much cleaner and impressive.

On the baby's trail came his mother, a Mon Calamari female that looked exhausted and could barely walk, who -exceeding her strength and stamina- grabbed her son and picked him up. Too timorous to meet the tall soldier's gaze, without lifting her head for even a moment, she muttered

“I am so sorry, sir. He is so young and inquisitive. Come with me Lockber. We're going back inside.”

The completely ineffable stormtrooper, standing tall in his armor, with his eyes fixed on the baby, said to his mother without ever looking at her, in a matching cold inhuman voice

“As we don't pollute your planet's oceans, you too will not fill our streets with your aquatic sewage.”

Her already enormous but tired eyes, opened widely at the inconceivable statement made by the soldier, but the woman was too terrified to reply anything else than “I am really sorry, sir. It won't happen again.”

The second trooper advanced at his colleagues' side and while raising his E11 rifle said in uttermost cruelty “we will make certain it doesn't” and hit the poor woman on the head with brutal force.

Betwixt the soldiers' laughter a scream of pain came from the woman, who lost her balance and fell to the ground, losing grip of her son who was now dangerously flying face down towards the harsh ground. Witnessing this atrocious incident, Ke'elon recovered from his lethargy and made a soothing gesture with his left hand, calling upon the Force to regulate the baby's fall and navigate him to a soft landing. He managed to turn the baby mid-air, so that it wouldn't mortally injure his head but he wasn't as proficient as to detain the fall completely, which ended in little Lockber's moanful crying, mostly because he was scared rather than hurt.

The troopers turned around to resume their course, while CT50, who was the last in line, pushed Ke'elon and Brea in the back, as a signal that they should do the same. While they drew away, two Mon Calamari males emerged from the side of the main road, one much younger than the other, who respectively approached the fallen members of their family. The older one, who appeared to be the father, went straight to his wife who was lying on her back while his son tumbled elegantly between the troopers to reach his infant brother, who had landed a few steps ahead of them.

Seeing that his wife was unconscious, the middle-aged refugee unveiled a blaster pistol hidden in his vest and in an eruption of rage he started screaming “Murderers! Monsters!” Before anyone could react, he shot CT50 straight to the head, dropping him unconscious to the ground. Brea Marr, recognizing the agony and despair that drove the attacker, raised her bind-cuffed hands and yelled at the two remaining troopers “Release us. He's going to kill us all, if you don't”, but it was obvious that her words were completely wasted.

Ignoring her, the two soldiers assumed battle positions with the first kneeling in front of his comrade, since there was no cover to be found in the middle of the empty street. Shots were fired in every direction, but only the well-trained and self-collected troopers hit their mark, hitting the infuriated amphibian in the abdominal area. It was in that very moment when he saw his father collapsing a few meters away, that the young boy who held his baby brother in his arms decided to proceed in an act of desperation.

He placed Lockber gently on the ground and revealed two frag grenades, old but very effective models used by the Republic army during the Clone Wars, now found only in the Black Market that once again made thriving profit in these dark times of need. “I will kill you all! I will destroy you, even if I die doing so!” the boy screamed and disarmed the grenades.

Ke'elon, who measured the troopers' quick reactions to this new threat, knew that the boy would be dead before he even managed to throw the first one of his projectiles, called upon the Force to give him focus in an almost futile attempt to save the youngster's life. In his mind there was nothing sort of a correct order in which to do things, so he decided to follow the most direct course of action, which meant that he had to interfere with the stormtroopers and not the boy.

He instantly remembered how his teacher used the Force in the jungles of Felucia, to strike fear in the natives' mind, when their territorial instincts did not allow the Jedi task force to heal some of the wounded animals of the planet, that have fallen victims to the Trade Federation's voracity for the planet's natural resources and minerals. There was a specific Jedi technique that could make any intelligent being tremble and fly to safety, probably by misrepresenting it's surroundings.

Before things got fatally out of hand, Ke'elon probed the standing trooper's mind and inflicted terrible images into it, to prevent him from shooting the young Mon Calamari. He raised his bind-cuffed hands as if he wanted to touch the trooper's head and closed his eyes tight, clenched his teeth as if he was exercising the most difficult physical activity and in front of Brea's stunned eyes, the huge soldier threw his rifle on the ground and fled, screaming incomprehensible nonsense.

Amazingly fast, Brea picked the rifle from the ground and directed it's barrel to the remaining stormtrooper's head.

“You have three seconds to stand up, throw this rifle to the ground and run. Try anything funny and I won't hesitate to kill you” she said in a clearly mocking way, as a smug smile appeared on her face.

The trooper said nothing, only dropped his E11 to the ground and ran as fast as he could. Seeing that, the boy re-armed his grenades and safely placed it in his backpack, while at the roadsides all sorts of non-humans have gathered and watched the incident and were now cheering in Brea's favor. Some of them were bald enough to provoke the running trooper by throwing rocks or rotten leftovers. Insults in every known language of the Galaxy could be heard and for the moment, it seemed as if the sunlight had reached this opening so close to the Crimson Corridor, earlier than the rest of the Zi-Kree sector.

In an unpredictable act of raw cruelty, Brea stood over CT-50 who was still alive, but unable to move and gave him the coup de gras, shooting him straight to the head. The cheerful voices of the gathered crowd died along with the trooper and were replaced by exclamations of shock and terror. Ke'elon stared at the dead body and for an instant he sensed something shifting around them, as if the energy binding the living beings present was reformed into a grimmer, angrier, darker state.

It took him a while to reconstitute himself, but when he managed to gather his mind and focus on the moment once more, he rushed to the injured Mon Calamari who was lying down on a wet terrain, moistened by his own blood. Ke'elon put his left hand on the poor man's head and lift it a little, so as to keep him from fading out.

“Will you be able to walk? We should get off the streets quickly, if we don't want to be arrested by another patrol. Those blaster shots ought to get more Imps in the vicinity.”

“Thank you, stranger. Better help my family escape. I'm not worth risking your lives for.”

“Just try and stay with me. I need you to breath and hang on to me. We don't have much time!”

In the meantime, Brea searched CT50's body and retrieved his weapons, an ID module and the card-key containing the codes for their bind-cuffs. She pulled the body to the edge of the road and buried it beneath an almost collapsed children's slide made of scrap metal parts.

“Mom, can you hear me? Mom? Are you all right?” the young boy kept asking, above his mother's head, holding his brother once again.

“Lockber? Where is he?” said the dizzy female, as she opened her huge molluscan eyes. “Oh baby, are you hurt? Are you both all right my boys?”

“We are fine, mom, but dad is injured and we need to get out of here, before more troopers arrive. Hold Lockber until I help this man carry dad back home.”

They moved out in a hurry, Ke'elon and the boy held the bleeding Mon Calamari by the waist and by putting their shoulders under his armpits. Brea covered their backs with the E11 in hand and up front little Lockber in his mother's arms was giggling in happiness. They picked a longer route, through narrower, darker streets and safer corners, away from curious eyes or Imperial sentries.

“Hang on, dad! We're almost there! You've made it” said the young boy and his father clenched his teeth, as a sign of intensifying his effort to reach their destination. They took a final turn left, to a square full of refugees from Dac, either of Mon Calamarian or Quarrenese descent, who apparently had put their skill and knowledge working on Dac's Shipyards to good use, in order to construct elemental housing.

“There it is. The fourth on the left row” said the mother and Ke'elon's eyes met a humble structure in the corner of the square, that once might have been a local market or perhaps an outdoors gymnastics field. Before the war. Before the Empire.

“Brea, help me out here. I need to lay this man down pretty carefully.” asked Ke'elon in a calm, natural way.

“How do you know my name? What's wrong with you? You've been acting so strange, I don't know whether it's best to help you, or kill you” said the irritated woman, and firmed her grip on the rifle.

“Help me, please. Then you are free to kill me” responded the tired human, exhaling heavily in mildly expressed frustration.

Stunned by his benign answer, Brea felt compelled to help her former assailant, who now seemed like a completely different person. Or was this another one of his tricks, to get her lower her defenses low make a final attempt to fulfill his vile intentions?

Quite suspicious, she held the Mon Calamari's feet and following Ke'elon's guidance they aligned his body gently on a bed made of plastic and metallic parts, held together by burnt wires of different sizes and diameters. The Mon Calamari family burst into tears, seeing their beloved father in such a bad shape, all due to the Empire's atrocious ways of dealing with non-humans. Ke'elon presented a syringe from his utility belt and touched the Mon Calamari's forehead with his left palm. He pressed the syringe to the amphibian's neck, who was coughing heavily and let out mighty shouts of pain, every now and then. “This will help you relax. You will fall in deep sleep. It is harmless, but absolutely necessary for your recovery, my friend”, Ke'elon told him. He then released the sedative in the tormented male's veins and it was a matter of seconds before his eyes closed, as the drug took immediate effect.

“I will have to ask you to leave the room, please. I need as much concentration as I can muster at this time and every bit of distraction, voice or comment could prove fatal for this man.” said Ke'elon with a voice and manner that betrayed unprecedented graveness.

Everyone, including Brea, obeyed without question and shortly Ke'elon found himself alone with the sleeping Mon Calamari. He undressed himself, keeping only his tight military trousers on, although for an average human, the temperature was quite low. He let himself dive in the intoxicating oceans of the Force, breathing deeply, with his eyes closed, recreating the world around him in his mind only by feeling the connection between him and everything in the room.

It took him a while to reach a certain point where he could translate the movements of the Force in his brain. Although he never was fully adept at commanding the Force in his own will, he was a talented healer and that came from his inner desire to help beings in need. “Compassion is a vessel that carries the will of the Force in a much more successful way, than most of our positive feelings, Ke'elon Ionis.” his master would often say. “You are gifted with a surplus of it. And usually this is all that it takes for one to achieve mastery of the Jedi Healing Arts.”

Indeed, Ke'elon Ionis could that very moment see with his mind's eye the midi-chlorians gradually leaving the Mon Calamari's body through his wound and by placing both his extremely hot hands on top of the injured man's belly, he commanded them to reroute their course, guiding them back and forth in a certain way that temporarily stopped the blood circulation in the area, by detouring it around the wound's exterior zone and rejuvenated the burnt, destroyed tissue, helping it expand rapidly in order to naturally cover the gap created by the E11's energy bolt. As he proceeded carefully, Ke'elon tried to inflict a regenerating shock in the Mon Calamari's body, but this technique was way beyond his knowledge so he quit trying, in fear that this might have the opposite results. Eavesdropping the Force's will, Ke'elon then allowed the bypassed veins fill with blood once more and watched as the body's fluids returned to the organs around the injured area.

Ke'elon felt exhausted. He retreated in a corner of the room, crawling in his hands and knees with every ounce of strength he had left, sat squatting in a typical Jedi meditation way and let himself mentally disappear in a Force trance, that resembled the peaceful stillness of death itself. Only he knew, that this was the only thing that could -at the moment- save him from it.


https://swdoe.wordpress.com/2015/08/10/chapter-4/

Δικαιώματα έχεις πάρει μπούλη;

Mare Ondus has always found it very easy to sleep at nights. Almost as easy as it was to be disturbed and awakened. He always believed that the greatest setback for every type of enterprise, was a tired, clouded mind. Such was the importance of sleep to him, that his personal quarters contained an even more private room, apart from the usual bed-chamber, that was built in the center space of the thickest wall. It was designed in such a way that it featured no windows or any other means for the light to get inside during his time of rest. Even the door was a unique build that resembled the double blast-doors of huge space-ships, only it closed in a reversed vertical fashion.

This night though, he found it extremely difficult to sleep at all. Because he knew all too well that an Imperial envoy with a business proposition, could mean just one thing. The Empire did not intend to cease any military operations, irrespective of what the people have been fed by the HoloNet broadcasts for more than a month. And this time, things were different than the Clone Wars, because Mare supported the Republic, since he believed its army would prevail. But the enemy was known and for most people, threatened Democracy and Justice. This time, disregarding the stories spread throughout the Galaxy about Darth Vader hunting down Jedi Knights who survived the War and were declared traitors and enemies of the State, there was no real threat. No enemy. Just thirst for a tyrannic type of control.

Furthermore, the Empire had now and again shown an absolution in resolving internal matters, an authoritarian mode of governance that resembled a dictatorship, rather than a stronghold of liberal ideals, fortified under the banner of an Emperor who only cared about the prosperity and well-being of his subjects.

No, Mare Ondus knew all too well that Mheros Nuk handed him an ultimatum, rather than an offer. It was obvious that the Empire was interested in controlling Tibana Gas mining and that was the reason the terms of this deal were common robbery. Because the offer served as a cover for what was inevitably going to happen. The Empire would seize his mines and he could do nothing to prevent that.

He approached the tall table that stood at his bed's right side and picked up a luxurious glass filled with Asmeru's finest red wine, had just a sip, then emptied the glass in a single draught. Refilled. Re-emptied. Refilled. “Bweep! Bweep!” his holocommunicator signaled.

“I'm listening, H2! Why are you calling me in the middle of the night?”

“Master! We are under attacked! Two security officers and three droids have already perished! What are we going to do, master Ondus?”

“Attacked? By whom? The Empire?”

“No, master Ondus. I believe these people are with the Black Sun!”

* * *

“Where is your boss, droid? We don't have all night, you know?”

“Dear enforcer, sir! Master Ondus is on his way, as we speak! I beg you to be patient and restrain your gun-slinging activities, sir!”

“The name is Brax” said the brawny Cathar. “We are here to talk business with the owner of this place, on behalf of Vigo Nesared.”

“If it is business you would like to discuss, then why don't you step into my office, mr. Brax?” said Mare who had just entered the Casino's foyer and as he spoke, knelt over the body of a member of his security personnel. With a stroke of his hand, he closed the poor Bith's eyes and sighed while standing up to face the brute that was leaning over the reception desk.

“Are you the human called Ondus?” asked Brax and returned his modified DH-17 in its sheath.

“I am the owner of these facilities, yes” Mare responded and moved to the second body lying on the floor. “Please allow me to take care of these men and return their bodies to their families.”

“By all means. After all, they were doing their jobs, as we were doing ours” commented Brax and gave a joyful look to the rest of his team, who snorted in malevolence. “Do what you have to do and come join us for a drink.”

The black-clad Cathar moved away from the desk and made his way to the Casino's liquo-service, where he started barking at the bar-tending droid names of strange drinks and exotic beverages, while the rest of his crew followed close behind.

“Don't worry, H2. I'll handle this myself. Just make sure this incident does not affect the general mood. Give everyone a round of what they're having and offer the customers a handful of betting chips, free of charge.”

“Right away, master Ondus! Oh and please, be careful sir. These type of beings make my circuits melt .”

Mare nodded to his trusty assistant and made haste for the main hall, before the Black Sun men could provoke additional damage. Such was his pace and determination that he didn't pay attention to the glares and greetings some of his profound customers offered, something totally unaccustomed on his behalf.

The Casino's main hall was an enormous square room divided into smaller square sections, whose grandiose ceiling was held by decorated pillars that reached over a hundred meters tall. The architecture of the building was unique and it was considered by many as a modern-age marvel, due to the fact that it was designed in the simplest way possible, but the materials used had been of the rarest origin and the most premium quality. It was not very often that one could see such a building. Lots of people, clearly envious, whispered that the hall's structure was of an exotic design, presumably not of this galaxy. Others that it most probably resembled its owners logic.

It was, after all, well known that Mare Ondus had always been an inhumanly reasonable man, who obsessively made sure that his view of matters was always clarified, never thrifty of words and so keen on providing details, even pieces of it that would generally be considered trivial, who gave the impression of an imprisoned droid, under a soft and elegant armor of human skin.

The hall's divisions were made according to the games hosted, where one would find dealer droids in each table, but each division was strictly ran under sentient supervision, an almost technophobic mentality . Mare always professed, however, that a droid could never calm a protesting customer as well and efficient as a fellow being, but that was a rare case in his establishments. No more than ten incidents could be recorded fifteen years now, and even half of them were due to the players been drunk or irritated by something completely irrelevant.

Entering the hall by the main entrance, one would be amazed by its size, mainly because of the unexpectedly great height and he would have to be possessed by gambling fever if he didn't pause to gaze upon the artificial paintings spread across the background wall, at the far end of the room. Scenes of high art were visible all over the huge wall mainly inspired by the peaceful and calm era that spun over a thousand years before the Clone Wars. Before the Empire.

Mare Ondus reached the private couch where the troublemakers had settled and before he got himself seated, one of them, a Twil'ek with pale skin and red eyes, asked with astonishing nerve

“Where are the girls? What have you done with them, Ondus? What kind of a casino is that, without girls and dancers and pleasure for the hungry eyes?”

“This is an exclusively gambling facility. We do not offer anything more than clean, legitimate gaming, characteristics that also appeal to the quality of the drinks we offer, as you might have guessed already. So no, if it is girls you are looking for, then you have come to the wrong casino, sir.”

The Twik'ek turned his head to the rest of his company and, as if Mare was not standing there, said

“Ha ha, this one's good! He even calls me sir. No wonder why his booze is so clean and legitimate” He gave a mocking tone to the three last words, something that annoyed Mare Ondus, but he knew that all the brute wanted was to get under his skin. And he wouldn't permit that, at any point of this “conversation”.

“You mentioned that the purpose of your visit is to discuss business. So, there is no need for me to hold you up from your other activities. I am listening” said Mare, as he took his place in a strange cubic stool that he placed in the other side of the table, exactly opposite the three enforcers, obviously agitated.

“I like you, Ondus. I like the fact that you try to run a dirty business in the cleanest way possible. Even more than that, I like what I see you are hiding inside. Something you probably don't want to admit yourself” said Brax, in a very calm tone.

Mare felt a sting somewhere on the back of his head. Hadn't he been such a proficient and reserved speaker, most probably he'd ran away from the Cathar's comment. Instead, he kept his composure and adding an ironic tone in his voice, said:

“I beg your pardon, but I thought we were going to have a professional conversation concerning common gain and interest. I was not under the impression we were going to chit chat about my traits and personality.”

“As you wish, human. Just mark my words, above anything else. We are all monsters, no matter how hard we try to mask it. The only difference is, some of us have embraced it. Even enjoy it” and as he finished his sentence, the over-sized Cathar took his blaster of its scabbard and pretended to shot unaware customers.

“Has your Vigo sent you here for target practice, Brax? If so, there is a sporting facility in my Hotel that could please your need for improvement” Mare said, while remarkably keeping his anger at bay.

“You better watch your step now, Ondus. You should be careful when you refer to a Black Sun Vigo. You never know how your words will be transferred to his ears and I'm pretty sure you wouldn't like to be misunderstood.”

As much as Mare didn't want to admit it, Brax was right. If these enforcers found it hard to deal with him, the easiest thing to do would be to crawl back to their Vigo and tell him how offensive and disrespectful the human has been to him. That would be enough of an excuse for Nesared to send more of his brutes and just kill Mare in cold blood. That was a rather common course of action for a Vigo, especially since the Empire didn't want to mess with these Crime Syndicates yet, only four months after it's installment.

“We heard you have some new friends, Ondus. Trustful eyes have seen Imps around your estates and a certain envoy talking to you in your office. Vigo Nesared was not happy about that, since he is interested in making a deal with you for your mines, too. It would be such a pity if this “clean” and “legitimate” establishment of yours went to dust, due to some electric circuitry malfunction, don't you agree?”

“By all means, it would. But that hypothetical scenario aside, what could Vigo Nesared offer that the Empire couldn't? After all, I am a businessman.”

“Our Vigo is currently one of the most powerful men in the system and soon-to-be one of the highest in Black Sun hierarchy, throughout the galaxy. As you might have guessed, hyperspace travel will be essential in growing his operations and since you are capable of providing never-ending Tibana gas, Vigo Nesared is offering his most generous friendship, along with every privilege that comes with it.”

“I see. So my never-ending provision of Tibana gas would be repaid with friendship and privileges. I am most certain that even you can understand that mines and workers cannot be maintained with friendship and privileges, Brax.”

“Cut the bantha poodoo, Ondus. We know all too well how the Empire treats its partners. They exhaust your resources, let you have no profit at all and if you don't agree on their terms, they just rip you off your property and name you a traitor. Seems to me that my Vigo's proposition is far better.”

Mare was caught unprepared. He didn't realize that these people knew the rules of this game so well. He needed time to evaluate the situation and make the best choice possible for his enterprise and his employees.

“Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot here, Brax. How about you become my guests for the night, spend your time here in the Casino as much as you like and tomorrow evening we come to an agreement, after I have found a way to turn down the Empire's proposal harmlessly?”

“No need for that, Ondus. We are our own guests wherever we go. You have less than a day, then. Just try not to play games with Vigo Nesared. He is well known for not forgiving the ones to cross him.”

As they got up, the third member of the company, a Devaronian of almost crimson skin, gave an intimidating stare to Mare Ondus and seemed like he measured him with his reddish eyes. The noble businessman stepped back and let him pass in front of him, as the three of them moved away from the main hall of the Casino. Before they finally exited the room, the Devaronian completely emptied the contents of his glass upon the ludicrously expensive carpet and turned his head around to face Mare, with a smirk on his face. The human remained calm, even when the Devaronian decided that the glass was of no use to him anymore and attempted to dispose it inside a credit terminal's slot, evidently just destroying the interface, in a way that would render the terminal unusable.

Eyes rolled and heads turned when members of the Casino security intervened almost instantly, but what was even faster than the Black Sun men's fingers racing to their blaster's triggers was Mare's own voice.

“Stand down Khel! Let them go, we had our taste of blood this evening!”

“But sir, the terminal is useless. And the carpet nearly destroyed.”

“I prefer having to repair a carpet and a machine, than sending body capsules in dutiful people's families. Stand down.”

It was with a sign of relief that the security officers lowered their weapons. They knew all too well that Black Sun men were not common thugs or drunkards that caused small trouble. Even stormtroopers would think twice before engaging them in a fight, with all their equipment and armor.

When the three left the establishment, Mare Ondus hurried to his office. He went straight past the large desk and using circular gestures on the wall's surface, he made a pair of cloaked handles appear. By pressing both handles with the palms of both his hands, a drawer-like door opened vertically upwards under the sound of a servo-mechanism rolling efficiently. Inside the secret compartment laid a safe, whose door revealed an eye sensor. Mare took a deep breath and held the wall around the compartment's edges with both hands. A silver, almost invisible beam started scanning his eye, while he made certain expressions with the rest of his face, as if he the whole procedure gave him terrible pain, although it didn't last longer than mere seconds.

When the safe's door was open, Mare quickly gathered it's contents and without hesitation moved to his desk. He pressed the corresponding to the desired communication channel buttons and when the connection was established, said in a low voice

“Mister Nhuk. I believe we have a serious situation in our hands...”

https://swdoe.wordpress.com/2016/12/08/chapter-5/

Ψησου, ποτε δεν ξερεις!

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