Into the Galaxy

[Cen Tessek]

[member="Usa'ar Obath"]

Cen hit the ground in a roll, sprinting off into the junkyard in search of something to conceal the aircraft. "Usa'ar, if you don't have something look around, we got to hide that fething capital ship of yours or we're going to be spotted!" He halted his sprint, bouncing to a stop just a few feet away from a gigantic mountain of trash heaped upon what appeared to be an abandoned speeder. The cabin only partially protruded from the hill of junk, the rest was hidden, but relatively open and intact on the inside. He began to crawl inside, to avoid the Sith and leave the more difficult work to Usa, but only once he was partially stuffed into the rusty husk he stopped and raised his head, calling to the energetic starpilot, "Oh, also please return my lightsabre!"

He freed himself from the speeder and ran back to his pilot with hand expectantly outstretched.

 

[Usa'ar Obath]

Usa'ar noticed the edge of the cockpit was still exposed, and hurried to pull the tarp just enough over so that it would be difficult to see from the air.

"Oh, also please return my lightsabre!" Usa'ar heard Cen yell. Usa'ar panicked for a moment. The lightsabre was in his pack, which he had left in the cockpit. Working faster than he ever had before, Usa'ar sprinted under the tarp and climbed onto the side of the pilot's seat, desperately searching for the pack. He spotted it shoved under his seat.

Reaching out from his precarious position, his fingers just managed to grab the edge of it and pull it down with him. This caused Usa'ar to fall on his back unceremoniously. The sudden pain froze him for a moment, but he furiously dug through his belongings for the shiny lightsabre handle and desperately threw it towards Cen from under the ARC. If the Sith found them, they'd need that sabre.

Usa'ar heard the low hum of the approaching ships, and knew he was going to have to stay under the plane, covered by the tarp. He could only hope the enemy fighters would overlook this hastily made construction.

 

[Cen Tessek]

[member="Usa'ar Obath"]

Cen snatched the lightsabre from the air, brushing his free hand over it to clean it of whatever dirt it had collected inside the pilot's bag, and immediately connected it to his synthleather utility belt. He sighed, slowing down for a moment, his eyes squeezing shut. It had been a long journey of new experiences, most of them largely unpleasant. He had been pulled from his home, is family, his son, and had been pushed to wade into the pool of death and war that was this galaxy far far away. I handled myself so poorly, he realized, with his hands clenching together in a physical expression of shame. He had been immature and naive, even with all of the training by his now deceased friend, he had been taken out by some crazy muun in a Huttese droid store almost instantaneously.

He came seeking a master of the dark side, one who would teach him to master his potential. So far, he had been less than unworthy, and now Cen intended to redeem himself. He straightened his posture, remaining in the stiff pose in open sight to any passersby from above. He had begun to formulate a plan of action. The information given to Usa'ar had been a fib of course. There was something with the datachip, he knew, but first he needed to get rid of the pilot. If he was captured, he would undoubtedly give away my presence under the first line of interrogation, especially after I cheat him out of the credits. However, if he was to lose him, the starpilot would have no one to go to for help after he had shot down the Sith fighter. It was clear he had to be ditched with some subtlety.

Cen glanced over, watching Obath slip under the tarp. He gave a thin-lipped smile and stepped away into the darkness of the titanic mound of garbage. He kept his eyes trained on the pilot, hoping dearly he would not catch a glance of him making his escape from under the vessel, but it was unlikely he could do anything if he could. He kept a hand planted on his lightsabre and ran the plan through his head for a third time. If he could not sneak away here, he would lose the human elsewhere, tied into the holochip hunt. There were a thousand plausible excuses he could give for this, with only a thousand more options prior to lose the human once and for all. Violence was not one of them however, even as a hoping acolyte of the dark side, Cen would like to avoid bringing any harm to the pilot. That could be his payment, if nothing else.

 

[Usa'ar Obath]

Usa'ar hugged the ground fervently. The ships had started passing over the junkyard. As he held his head to the noxious trash-littered ground, he felt the heat of the enemy aircraft radiating from above. Just as soon as it started, it stopped. No engine hum could be heard.

Usa'ar waited a couple more minutes before cautiously going to a kneel and then standing up, peeking outside the tarp for signs of movement. Nothing except a few scavenger animals, picking through the garbage.

"Cen?" Usa'ar whispered. "Cen?" This time louder. No answer. I swear, thought Usa'ar, he better not have seen a muun and ran after it again like a gundark chasing a nerf.

Usa'ar had no idea where Cen had hidden, or even if Cen had abandoned him to go follow that crazy map of his he was blabbering about all the way since Fondor. Usa'ar suddenly realized that Cen had stiffed him of his last few thousand credits.

This galaxy is full of criminals, he thought. Nobody honest left anymore.

Usa'ar sighed and started uncovering the ARC

 

[Cen Tessek]

[member="Usa'ar Obath"]

Cen felt a tinge of guilt as he fled, the lights of the Sith fighters darting behind him in a distant array of spectral wisps of light. He turned away, his fingers brushing against his lightsabre as he began to exit the junkyard and find a turbolift to Coruscant's underbelly. He heard the march of footsteps and froze, slinking back into the decrepit land of trash heaps. "Move it, witness reports said they landed in the junkyard," hollered the one at the lead, from what Cen could tell. There were about a dozen of them, at least those which he could here, and undoubtedly more on their way. Sith troops, Cen guessed, his hand gripping along the hilt of his lightsabre, and they know where Usa'ar is.

He cursed, climbing up along the pile of trash as stealthily as he could, his light attire assisting him in ascending the rustic monument of titanic mounds of discarded crap as quietly as possible. He was too late though, the soldiers had Usa'ar surrounded, taking up positions in secret to catch the apparently hostile pilot by surprise. They did not seem to be that interested in taking prisoners, but it was hardly surprising considering how they gunned down the ship. Desperate to get the pilot's attention he ignited the lightsabre, the crimson blade humming to life as it ascended from its silvery frip. He rose it above his head, waving it frantically, and albeit dangerously, in order to catch the man's attention. Inadvertently, the Sith troops also seemed to notice this, but due to the red blade must have paused in confusion, mistaking the chiss for one of their own.

 

[Usa'ar Obath]

Usa'ar had just thrown the tarp off of his fighter when he caught a glimpse of something flashing in the distance. A lightsabre? A red one. The Sith! Usa'ar drew his blaster and fired 3 frantic shots at the figure on the hill with the lightsabre before diving behind the belly of his ship for cover. While doing so, he saw several more black-clad figures scattered throughout the battlefield. Merde, I'm surrounded.

His mind raced. He quickly called out "Hey Graz! The trap worked, they're all here!" Usa'ar hoped this would at least make the Sith hesitate; jumping on the opportunity, Usa'ar sprinted to better cover - the remains of a hulking tank half-buried in trash. Usa'ar heard the crunching of boots to his right and turned and shot a flurry of laser fire at the noise. An enemy soldier fell, apparently not expecting him to be there so quickly. I hope they only have blasters, he thought. DO Sith even carry blasters?

Usa'ar fought off a brief moment of panic and searched through his pack for the two thermal detonators he knew would be there.

 

[Cen Tessek]

[member="Usa'ar Obath"]

Cen smiled, believing his plan worked, at least until Usa'ar began firing at him. His blade was already ignited but it was surely challenging to swat away the first of the two blasts, the third catching him on the eve of his swing and glancing into his shoulder. He cried out, his thumb relieving the activation switch and the blade shrunk away while his body tumbled down the trash heap. Thankfully, he was gently caught by a protruding mass of metal, perhaps at one point a docking ring, and the wind was knocked out of him. Coughing and sputtering, he rolled onto his gut and slowly began to rise to his knees. The sound of laser fire echoed from afar and he began to fear the battle had begun.

The Sith troops were undoubtedly going to rip him to shreds unless he flanked them. He kept the hand on his lightsabre, it had been the first time he had ever had to truly use it. Even Karr had refrained from teaching its ways to the young chiss, claiming unprofessional advice would only result in self injury. If Karr was still alive Cen would have smacked him for leaving him inexperienced in the current situation, but there was no time to curse the dead. He had entered the junk grove where the ARC had landed, the troopers chasing after Usa'ar as he took cover behind a TX-130 Saber-Class. They took no notice of Tessek behind them, too concentrated on the pilot. A man barked orders to the soldiers, ordering them to flank around the cover and assault from multiple directions. Cen took note of the corpse as he stealthily passed, noting the blaster wound on his head releasing threads of smoke.

He sucked in his breath and held it, both hands gripping his lightsabre as he gingerly approached the apparent captain from behind. He was making wild gestures while his armor reflected bare hints of the neon lights blazing from the surrounding cityscape. He chopped his hand to the right as he barked, "Keep on the flank, when he attempts to make his move we-" He never had the chance to finish. Cen activated the lightsabre and swung wildly over his head, chopping down through the soldier's cranium. Cen had expected it to cut through with ease, but the bite was met with heavy resistance. His blade halted at the throat, his smoldering helmet splitting in half to reveal the gruesome sight of the cleaved face. The soldiers paused at the activation of a lightsabre and turned just in time to see their captain brutally killed by the novice force practitioner.

They raised their rifles towards Cen, their fingers locking around their triggers in preparation to open fire. Cen forcefully tugged the lightsabre from the man's body, the sickly sizzling sound emanating from the burnt flesh as the corpse crumpled to the ground. He rose the blade defensively in front of himself, largely in vain. He knew he could not deflect hardly any of the bolts and now desperate, Cen cried out for help, "Usa, if you're going to do something do it now!"

 

[Usa'ar Obath]

Usa'ar peeked his head over the tank just in time to see a Sith with a lightsaber... Swing it into another enemy's head? He suddenly recognized it as Cen.

"So he didn't leave?" Usa'ar absently commented to himself before he snapped back into focus. The troopers were about to kill Cen; they were all pointing their guns at him. Even if Cen really was a Sith, there was no way he could stop all the shots.

That's when Usa'ar activated the two thermal detonators and heaved them up over the cover in the middle of the cluster of soldiers. "You better get out of there, Cen..." He grumbled to himself as he checked his right flank and sprinted to new cover, hopefully where the Sith troops didn't know. He turned the corner of a rusted taxi speeder and ran right into a surprised enemy, both stumbling on the ground from the impact. Usa'ar's DC-17 went clattering away from his grasp.

He pounced on the man, knee at his throat while he pulled out his vibroblade from his utility belt. Before he could stab it in the man's neck, the soldier kicked out, pushing Usa'ar off of him. The soldier noticed his rifle, laying peacefully on the ground, and made a move for it. Usa'ar kicked him with all his strength, sending him to the ground. Before the enemy could react, Usa'ar lunged at him with the vibroblade again, this time piercing the weak neck armor and splattering blood on the ground.

Usa'ar grabbed his pistol and the man's rifle, looking up fod more enemies. He heard the detonators go off, but a mound of trash prevented his view of the result. Usa'ar crouched into cover and awaited more enemies.

 

[Cen Tessek]

[member="Usa'ar Obath"]

Cen stood with lightsabre drawn, then two thermal detonators were lazily floating through the air. "Holy Sith," he exclaimed before swinging around, baring his back to the enemy, and hurled his body to the nearest cover, an upturned, empty spice crate. The explosion ignited in a sharp blast, the heat wave rolling over Cen as he hid, the ring that followed seeming to last an eternity within his ears. He rolled out, inhaling dust that unleashed a coughing fit, and was blinded by the curtain of dirt and rubble that floated through the air. Only a few films of light radiated through, from pieces of trash ignited by the explosion. Cen crouched and waited for it to clear.

Five soldiers remained, all unaware of the pair's position. They were simple security officers, evident not in attire but their manner. They were startled by the resistance, shaking and rattled after the confrontation as they scurried together into a group. Three had seemingly lost their rifles, but the two who remained armed were sure to cover all flanks, waving their barrels about as they attempted to quickly scan the environment for the pair, inadvertently running their gaze over Cen and missing him. Cen had tasted something today, through all the immaturity, the nervousness, the fear, he had felt the breadth of something bigger. He stepped out through the fog of debris, gently strolling towards the party. His demeanor was calm, unnaturally so, and so he went completely undetected in plain sight by the squad until he was right next to them. Then he ignited his lightsabre.

The red aura reflected from the soil cloud that floated around them, seemingly turning the entire scene bright, bloody red. He immediately disarmed one of the gun-toting soldiers, literally, sending him crashing to the ground screaming. He had never wielded this blade before in a serious manner, now it felt natural. He spun the hilt of his blade around, the blade now slammed vertically into the earth straight into the trooper's gut, silencing him. He ripped the sabre free before they could react, instantly decapitating another soldier. As the headless cadaver rolled off to the side Cen was approached from behind, a soldier rose a blaster rifle to his head and prepared to fire, in order to silence him once and for all.

 

[Usa'ar Obath]

Usa'ar heard the painful cries as detonators went off; there couldn't be many more. Then he heard the crackle of a lightsaber and more screams of agony. That had to be Cen.

Usa'ar peeked his head over a durasteel beam to see the situation. Cen had just decapitated a soldier, but the only one left with a rifle had it pointed to his head. Usa'ar knew he had to act fast. Raising the stolen rifle, Usa'ar aimed down the sights; enemy's head the target.

Time seemed to slow down as Usa'ar took a breath in. He had always been gifted as a marksman, but Cen was almost directly in front if the target. His face was just inches away from the Sith troop. He could kill Cen quite easily if his aim was just a bit off. Usa'ar trusted himself, squeezed the trigger once, and exhaled.

 

[Cen Tessek]

[member="Usa'ar Obath"]

Cen felt the shot before he saw it. The red bolt of energy nearly grazed his cheek, bathing it in a brief wave of heat before it flew past and nailed the soldier in the forehead. Sparks exploded into the settling cloud of grime, spraying the crowd with a brief wave of light before the settling back to the filthy darkness. Two remained, both unarmed, watching in silence as their last home fell, his head twisted back from the blast, and crashed into the earth. Cen kept his sabre ignited, gripping the metallic hilt with both hands and gently raising it to shoulder level steady and controlled. His pink eye reflected sickly in the crimson glow while his remaining scarlet eye seemed to blossom with hellfire. His scowl was prominent, each fold of flesh in his gaze casting long, arcing shadows across his face, appearing more like a demon than some simple farmer.

Immediately one trooper fell to his knees, hands raised above his head in surrender. He smiled at the turn of events, his luck must have begun to turn around, but then the other trooper charged. He caught the chiss off guard and delivered a solid strike to the gut with a plated fist, knocking the wind and spit out of Tessek. Cen doubled over and then retreated, tilting the ruby blade across his body to block further assault, but the soldier had vanished. He gave a puzzled expression, oblivious to the threat, and was completely flattened by a blow from behind which cracked him at the back of the skull. The soldier had recovered the rifle, slamming its butt against Cen's head and blacking him out for a brief second. Yet, that second was all he needed to gain the advantage.

As Cen drifted back into consciousness he found his lightsabre kicked away by the grunt, who now hovered over him, armed and angry. The rifle was aimed right between his eyes and the soldier's finger drifted over the trigger. Tessek attempted to prop himself up with his elbows, to fight the soldier with what ounce of resistance he had left, but he was immediately flattened by his boot, planted firmly on his chest and slamming him back to the earth. He stretched his hand out to his lightsabre, but it was too far, the other soldier already swooping in to retrieve it. "Usa, if you-" Bang, the rifle butt slammed into him again, right on the cheek and knocking him out cold for another few seconds. "Burn in Hell for what you did, you fething alien," muttered the soldier, his finger pressing in to squeeze the trigger.

 

[Usa'ar Obath]

Usa'ar watched the enemy fall with a glow of satisfaction. It seemed like the skirmish was over, with one man surrendering, but the other had the idiotic idea of charging Cen. Unfortunately, Cen must not have expected it, because the soldier ended up putting him on the ground. Yet, he still did not seem to worry about Usa'ar, the original criminal they were going after.

Usa'ar steadied his rifle while he watched the enemy put his boot on Cen and start to say something. Usa'ar aimed right between the man's eyes and pressed the trigger. The red hot laser blast flew with remarkable speed towards the Sith officer, slamming him backwards. He failed to get up. Usa'ar automatically moved his blaster to the remaining soldier, using the distraction to get up and run away, and fired two shots at his leg. One missed, but the other clipped him. The soldier lost his balance and fell into a pile of moldy rubble.

And just like that, the fight had ended.

 

[Cen Tessek]

[member="Usa'ar Obath"]

Slowly, Cen began to rise to his feet. His ribs were bruised, which he certainly felt evident o the painful grunts he emanated as he slowly climbed upright with the assistance of a nearby pile of trash. He flexed his arms, his shoulders giving a thunderous crack before his arms fell slack at his sides. Just like that, after the death and beatings, he now felt his usual self, and like his usual self, he strolled in a carefree manner over to the surviving trooper. "Hey, could you gi-" He was force to stop and pull back as the soldier ignited Cen's lightsabre and began swinging wildly at him. "I'll kill you!" he cried, his hands flailing the sabre in a bright array of red light. Cen scowled, stepping into the flurry and slamming a foot precisely onto the man's elbow, twisting his arm sickly and forcing his grip wide open, deactivating the blade and allowing it to clutter to the ground.

Cen stepped over to retrieve his prized momento and, once it was clipped to his belt, waved to Cen signalling that it was all okay. He reached down and gripped the soldier by the neck, raising him into the air, armor and all, gasping and sputtering for air. Cen watched with a cold gaze before inquiring to the man, "So let's all sit down and have friendly conversation about what we all... just went through, okay?" He hurled the man back to the ground, depositing him over a patch of scorched armor that was likely the remnant of one of his squad members. Cen stepped back and sat down on top of a totaled speeder, waiting patiently for Usa'ar to join them.

 

[Usa'ar Obath]

Noting all was clear, and that Cen had nailed that last survivor, Usa'ar emerged from the rusted junk that was his cover and joined the odd pair. He stretched has back and winced at some bruises from diving and the hand-to-hand combat with one of the enemies. Taking a seat right next to the nervous wreck of a Sith trooper and putting his arm around him like they were old pals, Usa'ar calmly said "Sorry about your leg, bud. Couldn't let you get away. Hey, at least you don't have a melted and scorched face like most of your friends!" He couldn't resist smiling at his own "friendliness."

The trooper recoiled away from Usa'ar and blurted out, "The military and police already know about you two! You'll be hunted down, and, uh, destroyed! I'm sure of it!" Usa'ar shook his head. The man seemed desperate to believe himself.

 

[Cen Tessek]

[member="Usa'ar Obath"]

Cen rose a hand and checked a nonexistent watch for the time. "So here's what I think," he started, planting both hands firmly onto the speeder and straightening up his posture, giving the trooper a very cruel smile. "You guys spoke of the reports leading you here, meaning that they'll have a position on us. They also know that we were in an ARC-170 and since it's such an antique vehicle it won't be a struggle to find us. They'll also know something is up when you don't report in. We're just dead men waiting around for the reinforcements to hunt us down, you're right, and the way things are, we won't be able to escape with them on our trail" Darkness had begun to settle in over the junkyard, the waning sun sinking beyond the city skyline and in mere minutes they were likely to be shrouded in complete darkness, save for the vast lamps flanking the perimeter of the junkyard paths. Thus it was entirely visible and glaring when Cen ignited the lightsabre. The red blade appeared to have been bathed in the blood of the slain soldiers, its red form flowed hungry and lively from the dead, dull hilt.

He stepped forward, planting the blade just inches away from the soldier's throat. The soldier, propped up and attentive, stared wide-eyed at the chiss as the realization of what he wanted dawned upon him. "No," he muttered before the blade drew closer. Before he could answer, however, Cen glanced over at the pilot and offered a small smile. "Usa'ar," he said, his eyes glinting evilly in the crimson light. "I got a proposition for you if you want to escape this situation alive."

 

[Usa'ar Obath]

Usa'ar patted the enemy on the had before standing up and taking a couple steps back to stay away from the red blade. He sighed.

"I think I know what your plan is, and I don't like it," he grumbled. "But I suppose it's the best choice for me. And I bet our friend here would love playing his part." Usa'ar stifled a small laugh.

"Jeez, Cen" Usa'ar suddenly exclaimed. "You've got me sounding as crazy as you. I'm not sure how I feel about that."

 

[Cen Tessek]

[member="Usa'ar Obath"]

Cen returned the praise with a smile. He deactivated the blade, the ruby light shrinking away into the bland hilt with a hiss. Cen's expression dissolved into a stern look, his posture stiffening. He knew what he was about to suggest likely would not sit well with his pilot, but if they were going to get away clean sacrifices would have to be made. "Look, Usa," he began, attempting to take the soft, easy approach. "We are nine parsecs down the poodoo hyperlane right now with no fusion reactor. Not only do I have a Sith weapon, a very, very bad thing to have by everyone's standards, we also have a highly top secret datachip possibly containing the prototypes to a superweapon, and then we've gone and shot down a fighter, then killed a trooper squad."

He pointed to the ARC nearby, giving a stern nod as he continued, "You have an antique model no one flies, with unique upgrades and augments that make it even more identifiable. We're on the Sith capital in the middle of Sith space and we have just killed several soldiers, they are going to lock down this sector faster than you can say 'blast it!'" He rose his fist and with each point made he rose a long, slender finger to physically symbolize the fact presented. "First, we need to buy ourselves some time with trooper-boy over there. Second, we need to get rid of the hunters on our trail long enough for us to get down into the underbelly and vanish. Third, we need to get rid of that ARC, because we aren't even getting an inch off the ground in that before we get spotted. We gotta cover our shebs like we're being chased like a horny gundark."

 

[Usa'ar Obath]

Usa'ar grimaced. Anything but his ARC! That ship had been with him since he was 14. He had fixed it up after coming across it in an abandoned hangar on Mygeeto. He flew it when he fought off pirates as an escort fighter. He flew it when he first traveled to another planet. He flew it for just over 10 years. And now the time had come for it to be lost forever.

"I'm sure I could outrun them in it, break off into space," he mumbled distantly, even though he knew that would be well near impossible. Usa'ar sighed again, knowing what had to be done.

"Well, then. If it's gotta be done, it's gotta be done. I'd rather live on than my old heap of metal. So how are we gonna do this? Cut the comms, make him fly it away and then get shot down? Blow it up ourselves?"

Stupid Sith. If it weren't for them, he could've kept his prized ship. If this planet was under anyone else's control, they could've landed easily, he was sure. Stupid Sith.

"Sith happens, I guess," he attempted a joke.

 

[Cen Tessek]

[member="Usa'ar Obath"]

"We'll force our friend here to contact Command. He'll buy us some time to work with your ARC." He gave the soldier a solider kick in the thigh, earning a struggled cry from the trooper. "From there, we can work with the ARC to make a trap. I'm certain you're aware of the ARC's heat sinks, located on the undersides of its tri-fold wings? Well they're a necessary component, due to the excessive deflector shield's on the gunship's surface. Essentially, the ARC tends to overheat quickly, and if we block the cooling vents, cut off whatever additional cooling augments you've applied, and apply full power it should begin to get really hot. In addition we can rewire the power trunks to the generators and fixate on trapping all the heat within the internal engine."

He clapped his hands together excitedly and continued, "We'll lure the sith reinforcements into the junkyard and take up positions." He pointed towards the peaks of two parallel trash mountains, each resting adjacent to one another on either side of the garbage grove. "If you have any weapons, let's share. We'll hide up there and wait for them to inspect. The heat will build up, igniting the fuel tank, effectively creating a gunship-level timebomb which could wipe out a few squads worth of soldiers and buying us time to escape to the underbelly."

 

[Usa'ar Obath]

Usa'ar was impressed. "I would've never thought of that... You really do want to take as many of them out as you can, huh? Well, that's good enough for me. I'll work on the ship now."

Usa'ar headed towards his beloved ARC, but stopped to kick the soldier first. He rested a hand on one of the wings of his ship. "Sorry, baby, but I gotta do this." From there he set to work rewiring the heating with his toolkit.