A/N: First chapter of the day. yes, by first I mean there would be another chapter incoming, through its gonna a tad bit of time.
So be a dear and throw those powerstones across the fence, won't you?
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I toggled the external buttons on my wristpad. "Predator twins, wakey-wakey."
Shoulder plates unfolded, twin blaster cannons whirring out. Targeting reticles painted red dots across the plaza.
Now, let's start blasting.
A moment later, three figures burst from the smoke-filled doorway of the cantina, coughing and waving the laxative-laced air away from their faces. Reva looked absolutely murderous, which, to be fair, was her default setting.
They spotted the Scythe, its ramp open and engines whining. They were confused, but that confusion was hardening into rage fast.
The Grand Inquisitor tapped his wrist comm, his voice a furious snarl that blared over the ship's internal speakers. "Scythe 1138! What is the meaning of this? Report your status immediately!"
"Kill the external comms!" I yelled at Nari. "Kill 'em! Now!"
Nari, his face pale and slick with sweat and... other things... fumbled with the console and slammed his hand on the right switch.
The Grand Inquisitor's voice cut off mid-rant.
That was the signal.
The sudden silence told them everything they needed to know. The three Inquisitors ignited their sabers in a simultaneous, terrifying snap-hiss, casting the plaza in a blood-red glow.
Then they moved. They became blurs, using the Force to dash across the sand with inhuman speed, robes flying as they streaked straight for the open ramp.
"Oh, shit," I muttered, my own adrenaline surging. I tapped my wristpad, activating the 'Predictive Aim: Dash' preset. My HUD's targeting brackets flickered, struggling to get a solid lock on the accelerating figures.
No time for a lock. I jammed the firing stud on my palm.
F-THOOM!
I led the Fifth Brother, placing the bolt ten feet ahead of his path. Just as I figured, he couldn't turn on a dime. He had to skid to a halt, bringing his spinning saber up in a desperate, two-handed block that sent the red bolt screaming back into a moisture vaporator.
F-THOOM!
A second shot for Reva. She was faster, deflecting it mid-stride, but the impact broke her momentum, forcing her to stumble.
The Grand Inquisitor just weaved, his own saber a crimson fan as he deflected my third shot without even slowing down. He was almost at the ramp.
"NARI! RAMP!" I screamed, my voice cracking. "CLOSE THE FUCKING RAMP!"
I hammered the firing stud, laying down three quick, suppressive shots right at the base of the ramp, kicking up a wall of sand and duracrete splinters. It was just enough. The Grand Inquisitor had to flip backward to avoid the shrapnel, buying the ramp motor a precious second.
With a heavy, final CLANG-HISS, the ramp sealed shut, plunging the cargo bay into semi-darkness.
I let out a huge, shuddering breath, slumping against the bulkhead. "Holy shit. Holy shit, that actually—"
WHOMP!
The entire ship lurched violently, its ascent stopping so hard it threw me from the wall and onto the deck. Red emergency lights flashed, and a klaxon started blaring.
Nari's voice was a high-pitched shriek over the internal comm. "It's not responding! The yoke is dead! Something's... something's holding us!"
I scrambled to my feet, my blood running cold. They were pulling us. All three of them.
Damn them, do they think they are Darth fucking Vader?
"THEN GIVE IT MORE FUCKING JUICE!" I roared, bracing myself against the bulkhead. "HIT THE FULL THROTTLE! BLOW THE ENGINES IF YOU HAVE TO, JUST GET US UP!"
I heard Nari yell a wordless cry of terror and effort. The Scythe's engines screamed, a high-pitched whine that sounded like a dying animal. The whole ship vibrated so hard my teeth rattled in my skull. I could feel the hull groaning, the metal plates straining against the invisible, hateful grip.
Come on, you piece of junk...
With a tortured, explosive SNAP of stressed metal, the ship broke free.
We rocketed upwards, the sudden acceleration slamming me flat against the bulkhead with enough force to knock the wind out of me.
I gasped for air as the ship continued its vertical climb, finally feeling the artificial gravity kick in and level me out.
"Get us to orbit, Nari!" I yelled, my voice hoarse. "Get us to orbit now!"
--
The ship stopped trying to shake itself to pieces. The high-G whine of the engines settled into a steady, powerful hum.
I peeled myself off the bulkhead for the second time and checked a small viewport. The sand-ball that was Tatooine was shrinking. The blackness of space was growing. We were in orbit.
I stumbled forward into the cockpit. The smell hit me first. Copper, ozone, and the unmistakable, gag-inducing stench of fear-sweat and voided bowels.
Nari was still plastered to the pilot's seat, his knuckles white on the blood-and-gore-slicked yoke. The remains of Officer Jark were... still everywhere.
"We're... we're in orbit," Nari stammered, his voice a full octave higher than it should be. "We're in orbit. We're alive. We... we stole an Inquisitor's ship..."
"Yeah, yeah, we're awesome," I said, patting his shoulder. I made a point to pat the one that had less brain matter on it. "Now, just... park us. Keep us in a stable, high orbit. Don't jump, don't ping anyone. Just sit here and... try not to lick the controls. I'll be right back."
"PARK US?! ARE YOU INSANE?!" he shrieked, spinning in the ruined chair. "We need to be halfway across the Outer Rim! They'll send fighters! They'll send—"
"Relax, Top Gun," I said, walking past him toward the back of the ship. "I need to make a few calls."
"CALLS?!"
"Damage control," I said, moving down the short corridor. "You just... clean your hands. Seriously."
I found the comms station. It was clean, efficient, and probably listening to my every breath. Good.
Okay, brain. Time to work.
Option A: We just leave. Jump to some random system, ditch Nari, and I sneak back to Ben's Cave of Existential Dread. It was simple. It was clean. It was also pants-on-head stupid.
Leaving three very pissed-off Inquisitors stranded on Tatooine was a massive, glowing, red loose end. They'd be furious, and they'd investigate. They'd start at the cantina, find the owner, and start asking about a guy in armor.
Sure, I'd taken precautions. Different helmet, different overcoat. I hadn't wore the Iron Mule armor , just in case someone identified the person that arrived in Mos Eisley nearly half an year ago. I got off the speeder a klick out of town when coming.
The chances of them connecting me to me—the small, scrawny kid living with the hermit—were low. But "low" wasn't "zero." Leaving that kind of heat on the same planet as Ben and Luke? That was just bad writing.
Which brought me to Option B. The chaotic-neutral, big-dick-energy option. The one that was so ballsy, so utterly insane, that it might just work.
I wasn't just going to leave a loose end. I was going to create a new one. A loud, obnoxious, and utterly fabulous loose end that would send them chasing their tails all the way to Hutt Space.
Time to get my smooth on.
I found the 'Inquisitorius HQ - Priority Channel' preset on the console. Oh, this was too easy. I didn't even bother spoofing the signal. Calling them from their own stolen ship was just... chef's kiss.
I hit the comm, switched to voice-only, and pitched my vocoder to be a little smoother, a little... silkier.
A crisp, professional voice snapped on immediately. "Scythe 1138, report. Your telemetry is off-course. What is your status? Does Lord Grand Inquisitor has any request?"
"Why hello there, darling," I cooed. "I'm afraid the Grand Inquisitor isn't in right now. He seems to have... misplaced his ride."
A beat of stunned silence. "...Identify yourself! This is a restricted Imperial channel!"
"Oh, just a concerned citizen," I said, leaning back in the chair. "I found this lovely Phi-class shuttle just sitting in the middle of Mos Eisley—on Tatooine, if you can believe it—and the doors were wide open! It was practically begging to be taken. Terribly irresponsible of the owners, leaving a ship like this unattended."
I paused, letting that sink in.
"Anyway," I continued, "they looked quite cross, so you should probably send someone to pick them up. It's hot out there."
"Who is this?! Your signal is being traced—"
"Oh, don't bother, sweetheart. By the time you find me, I'll be three systems over. But you can tell your superiors that Lando Calrissian sends his regards. Ciao!"
I cut the connection, cackling.
"One down," I muttered. "Now for the fun part."
I pulled up the Scythe's local comm directory. 'GI-Personal.' Bingo.
I pinged his commlink. It connected instantly.
A low, furious growl came over the speaker. "YOU."
"Gentlemen, gentlemen, please!" I said, putting on the charm. "Is that any way to speak to a fellow connoisseur? I must say, I am an avid collector of fine ships, and when I came to Tatooine on... let's call it 'business'... I was simply astonished to find this rare beauty parked right in the middle of town! Doors open and everything! It was a gracious gift."
I held up a hand, as if he could see me. "Now, I will admit, we had some... complications... during takeoff. The ground crew seemed awfully insistent on us staying, if you catch my drift. Very poor service. One star. Would not recommend."
"A... gift?" The Grand Inquisitor's voice was vibrating with a level of rage I could feel even over the comm. "Do you have any idea who you have stolen from, fool? The Empire will hunt you to the ends of the galaxy. We will—"
"—make a fine addition to my collection! Yes, I know!" I interrupted cheerily. "But you see, that's where you're mistaken, my Pau'an friend. 'The Empire'?" I infused the word with all the mockery I could muster. "Your authority is... limited... out here. This is Hutt Space. People here answer to the Cartel, not to some wrinkled-up Emperor in a fancy chair. You can try finding me, of course. But Hutt Space is... so very large."
There was a long, dangerous silence. I could hear him breathing. He knew I was right, and that just made him angrier.
"You will not hide forever, thief."
"Oh, I'm not hiding! I'm celebrating," I retorted. "And don't you worry your pretty, tattooed head. I'm not a complete monster. I already called your headquarters and asked them to send a pickup for you and your... entourage. Wouldn't want you to get a sunburn."
I leaned in close to the mic for the finale.
"Oh, and do tell your friends at Crimson Dawn that I'm very, very grateful for this tip-off. They really outdid themselves this time."
"Crimson... Dawn...?" The confusion in his voice was delicious.
"Oops!" I feigned a gasp. "Did I say that? Forget I said that. Anyway, it's been a pleasure. You've been a lovely audience. Lando Calrissian, out!"
I slammed the commlink off and slumped against the bulkhead, shaking with pure, unadulterated laughter. It was so stupid. It was so perfect.
A moment later, Nari's voice came over the internal comm, trembling and weak.
"What... what in the nine Corellian hells... was THAT?!"
I wiped a tear from my helmet's visor.
"That, Nari my boy," I said, still grinning. "Is how you turn a 'problem' into an 'opportunity.'"
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A/N: Good news btw, patreon just replied to me. just a couple more exchanges with the support gal and I think I will be back in the game!