No one said Sith was easy
folder
Star Wars (All) › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
4,785
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Star Wars (All) › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
4,785
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Star Wars movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Perverts and Bantha butts
Author’s note: I still own nothing. Yay! You review has been noted! Moving on.
It was all plains…
Rolling one on top of another, on and on and on….
Klacasa was going to be sick. In dismay she looked at the backwater world she was temporarily stranded on. “Nothing I’ve ever done was bad enough to deserve this…” A memory came to her and she smirked. “Okay, if this is for the Gizka I accidentally left in Mandalore’s armor, I deserve this.” A passing Kath hound looked her way, but decided she was inedible. With a sigh she turned her attention back to her vessel. (The damage must be small… I don’t see anything that should have caused a breach. There are no scrapes on the hull… and the…)
It was rather prominent now. Some Bantha butt had sabotaged her ship!!! A pressure valve was punctured; she could hear the faint hiss. A moment of clarity came that her ship had been slowly depressurizing her entire trip. Staggered she took a deep breath, decided the luck of the smugglers moon had been with her, and tried to come up with a plausible solution. (Probably should replace the thing, safer than a poor patch job. But here? These people probably don’t even watch the holocron!) The damaged ship seemed to mock her, her trigger finger itched.
“Somebody’s head is gonna roll for this.”
…
Two hours later a group of salvagers watched in trepidation as a sweaty, angry, heavily armored woman passed them. She stopped, backed up, looked through her Mandelorian helmet at the tallest of them.
“Do you have any pressurizing valves for a small one pilot space craft?” the salvager, slightly out of his mind from the heat of the day grinned.
“No, but I DO have a nice pressure valve for a small one man woman!” For a moment the bounty hunter stood stock still, then, without warning, emitted a loud snort. It turned into laughter, frightening the other salvagers into backing up.
“I can’t believe it! The pick up lines on this ball of shit are worse than Nar Shaddah’s! Hehehehehehe…” In a moment she reached forward, amiably put her hands on the salvager’s shoulders, and kneed him hard in the groin. The man emitted a strangled whine and crumpled. “Hehehehe… but you should know, all jokes that bad have an even worse punch line. I’m glad you learned something today.” She turned to look at the others. “So, anyone else want a few chuckles? Or would someone like to answer my question.”
…
(Well, that went about as well as I’d expected…) irritably Klacasa kicked a rock across the bridge as she walked. (Those poor fools barely had more to sell on them then their belt buckles.) A fire drew her attention, to the left, behind a grove of trees. (hmmm…?) Curious and eager for a distraction from the scenery she walked into the grove. Several Mandalorians sat about chatting; she could have died from relief. A moment later she could just have died.
“Well hello there… you look like a capable woman, well able to handle an intimidating arsenal… would you like to have a few practice shots with my blaster?” They laughed as she stared at them in building fury. “Just a playful shot soldier. What is your rank, and what can we do for you? You look new to this shit-ball.” They laughed again when her shoulders slumped in relief.
“That was not funny at all you space slugs! Augh! After the shit I got at that salvage camp…”
“We tend to ignore them. They don’t find anything worth commandeering anymore. Clan and rank?”
“Clan Ordo, rank trippleshot snipe.” The men whistled appreciatively. The leader rose and walked past the pit to her.
“What can we do for you Ordo sniper third rank?” Klacasa smiled under the helmet,
“Do you possibly have a pressurizing valve for a small one pilot space craft?” He cocked his helmeted head to the side.
“Pressurizing Valve? No, we’ve got none to spare. If we did we’d sell it to you, but as it stands… wait, there’s a small spaceport here, across that bridge and across the next as well. The locals use it to export their harvests. There’s a shop there. If you’re going to find your valve anywhere...”
Klacasa nodded. “Understood. My thanks, and hope for good conquest. For Mandalore!”
“For Mandalore!” they chorused, and resumed their conversation.
… … …
Darth Maul walked her rooms silently, reintroducing her scent, the faint impression she had left in the force. A casual sweep told him all he needed to know. Her departure had been recent, and she intended to return. There were no clues to her destination but he had expected none. It would have disappointed him to find any. There were no weapons to be found, she was heavily armed. He departed as silently as he had come; the glazing over eyes of twelve unfortunate bounty hunters watched his departure.
The landing dock provided more clues. Only a few ships had left that were personal craft. Instinct and the force pushed him towards these. Only six of these had departed in the required timeframe. Silently he moved to where the gate director was standing. The Twi’lek blinked, but held his ground.
“I require information, you will supply it.” The Twi’lek blinked, his eyes narrowed.
“Do I look like a service droid to yo..!” the fingers about his throat gave a slight, testing squeeze. Maul smiled, arched his head back slightly, letting the employee see his eyes. “What do you want to know?! Anything I can say, I will! I’ll talk!!” a gentle huff of breath, the fingers eased.
“Approximately eight hours ago six vessels of small body, single pilot build departed this dock. You will identify these ships, and if you know their pilots.” The
Twi'lek's eyes widened. “You do know… how fortunate…”
“She never leaves! I knew there must be a special cause; I’ll tell you all you want to know!”
“Yes, you will.”
“Klacasa, the bounty hunter girl eh? She’s trouble that one. Her ships a red Geffer, one gunned, Mandalorian design I think.” Maul remained silent, the Twi’lek started to tremble. “Ah… you want her docking code?! Yes?! ZO23795909WK! Yes! Ah… she was heading toward the kedeshbelt fields!” Still, Maul was silent. “I can’t tell you anymore!! I don’t know anything else!!”
“…you lie.”
Frantically the Twi’lek started clawing at the Sith’s hands. “I know nothing else!! I know nothing else!!!” Maul’s fingers tightened sharply, leaving him gasping in shock.
“You are trying my patience.” Maul held the Twi’lek above the ground and walked to the edge of the safety rail. Two miles below another sector of docking ships hummed. He held the strangling Twi’lek above the abyss, savoring his fear. Using the force to keep him aloft he eased his fingers. The Twi’lek pulled in deep lungfulls of air, tears streaming down his face.
“Acupeta- minibobo achuta! Wakasa shmitah! Esathe mirika!!” Maul waited, dispassionately watching as the creature curled up into itself, hanging fetal position from his fist. Several other locals looked their way, but none dared interfere. It was the unspoken law of Nar Shaddah, not your business, don’t get involved. A loud shriek from echoed to him from another terminal. Another Twi’lek, her eyes wide, the bag she’d been carrying fell to the metal floor.
“Tel’ Koro! No! Please, please don’t hurt him!!!” Tel’koro turned his head as much as he could, his gibbering stopped as he looked with undiluted horror at his captor’s focus of attention.
“Ledethe!” Maul shuddered, so many dark emotions sending ripples so close… he drank it in, teeth bared in savage joy. “Wait! Ignore her, she is no one! Knows nothing! I was lying, ah I was lying!” Maul could manage no more than a breathless whisper,
“Speak quickly… or I’ll hang you here by your lekku, and let you watch as I…”
“Stop! Ah stop! She will never reach her destination! Her ship, it was sabotaged by another bounty hunter before she left eh, it will fail!” He resumed sobbing, his eyes still focused on his mate. The other Twi’lek had rushed forward, only to loose her footing several feet away. She lay on the floor half stunned, her eyes fluttering. A third figure was coming forward from the crowd, humanoid, his ragged blond hair falling in his face as he advanced with a calm, sure stride. Maul watched him, yellow eyes narrowed in warning.
“Tel’ Koro has told you all he knows. I can vouch for him, I work with him at this dock.” The grey eyes that looked back upon him were cautious, but either from instinct, or stupidity, they were free of fear. “If there is anything else you would ask, I will answer you. I have been here all day. Perhaps I can put forth facts that he cannot.” The man knelt behind the woman, pulling her up, shaking her gently. Every move, every gesture, calm, measured, the Twi’lek allowed him to help her up. She buried her head in his shoulder. He did not take his eyes from Maul.
“Please… it is true, they work together…” She shook with silent tears, the human soothed her. Maul closed his eyes, feeling the hatred bleed…. He gave a desperate grab for it. It was gone; all he could see was grey, the darkness had eased. With a hiss of self loathing and disgust he tossed the weeping male into the human and female, knocking both to the ground.
In a whirl of black robes he was gone.
The couple embraced each other, absorbed in their own terror, relief, and thoughts. The dock technician looked at where the reaper had stood, and finally, allowed himself to shake.
It was all plains…
Rolling one on top of another, on and on and on….
Klacasa was going to be sick. In dismay she looked at the backwater world she was temporarily stranded on. “Nothing I’ve ever done was bad enough to deserve this…” A memory came to her and she smirked. “Okay, if this is for the Gizka I accidentally left in Mandalore’s armor, I deserve this.” A passing Kath hound looked her way, but decided she was inedible. With a sigh she turned her attention back to her vessel. (The damage must be small… I don’t see anything that should have caused a breach. There are no scrapes on the hull… and the…)
It was rather prominent now. Some Bantha butt had sabotaged her ship!!! A pressure valve was punctured; she could hear the faint hiss. A moment of clarity came that her ship had been slowly depressurizing her entire trip. Staggered she took a deep breath, decided the luck of the smugglers moon had been with her, and tried to come up with a plausible solution. (Probably should replace the thing, safer than a poor patch job. But here? These people probably don’t even watch the holocron!) The damaged ship seemed to mock her, her trigger finger itched.
“Somebody’s head is gonna roll for this.”
…
Two hours later a group of salvagers watched in trepidation as a sweaty, angry, heavily armored woman passed them. She stopped, backed up, looked through her Mandelorian helmet at the tallest of them.
“Do you have any pressurizing valves for a small one pilot space craft?” the salvager, slightly out of his mind from the heat of the day grinned.
“No, but I DO have a nice pressure valve for a small one man woman!” For a moment the bounty hunter stood stock still, then, without warning, emitted a loud snort. It turned into laughter, frightening the other salvagers into backing up.
“I can’t believe it! The pick up lines on this ball of shit are worse than Nar Shaddah’s! Hehehehehehe…” In a moment she reached forward, amiably put her hands on the salvager’s shoulders, and kneed him hard in the groin. The man emitted a strangled whine and crumpled. “Hehehehe… but you should know, all jokes that bad have an even worse punch line. I’m glad you learned something today.” She turned to look at the others. “So, anyone else want a few chuckles? Or would someone like to answer my question.”
…
(Well, that went about as well as I’d expected…) irritably Klacasa kicked a rock across the bridge as she walked. (Those poor fools barely had more to sell on them then their belt buckles.) A fire drew her attention, to the left, behind a grove of trees. (hmmm…?) Curious and eager for a distraction from the scenery she walked into the grove. Several Mandalorians sat about chatting; she could have died from relief. A moment later she could just have died.
“Well hello there… you look like a capable woman, well able to handle an intimidating arsenal… would you like to have a few practice shots with my blaster?” They laughed as she stared at them in building fury. “Just a playful shot soldier. What is your rank, and what can we do for you? You look new to this shit-ball.” They laughed again when her shoulders slumped in relief.
“That was not funny at all you space slugs! Augh! After the shit I got at that salvage camp…”
“We tend to ignore them. They don’t find anything worth commandeering anymore. Clan and rank?”
“Clan Ordo, rank trippleshot snipe.” The men whistled appreciatively. The leader rose and walked past the pit to her.
“What can we do for you Ordo sniper third rank?” Klacasa smiled under the helmet,
“Do you possibly have a pressurizing valve for a small one pilot space craft?” He cocked his helmeted head to the side.
“Pressurizing Valve? No, we’ve got none to spare. If we did we’d sell it to you, but as it stands… wait, there’s a small spaceport here, across that bridge and across the next as well. The locals use it to export their harvests. There’s a shop there. If you’re going to find your valve anywhere...”
Klacasa nodded. “Understood. My thanks, and hope for good conquest. For Mandalore!”
“For Mandalore!” they chorused, and resumed their conversation.
… … …
Darth Maul walked her rooms silently, reintroducing her scent, the faint impression she had left in the force. A casual sweep told him all he needed to know. Her departure had been recent, and she intended to return. There were no clues to her destination but he had expected none. It would have disappointed him to find any. There were no weapons to be found, she was heavily armed. He departed as silently as he had come; the glazing over eyes of twelve unfortunate bounty hunters watched his departure.
The landing dock provided more clues. Only a few ships had left that were personal craft. Instinct and the force pushed him towards these. Only six of these had departed in the required timeframe. Silently he moved to where the gate director was standing. The Twi’lek blinked, but held his ground.
“I require information, you will supply it.” The Twi’lek blinked, his eyes narrowed.
“Do I look like a service droid to yo..!” the fingers about his throat gave a slight, testing squeeze. Maul smiled, arched his head back slightly, letting the employee see his eyes. “What do you want to know?! Anything I can say, I will! I’ll talk!!” a gentle huff of breath, the fingers eased.
“Approximately eight hours ago six vessels of small body, single pilot build departed this dock. You will identify these ships, and if you know their pilots.” The
Twi'lek's eyes widened. “You do know… how fortunate…”
“She never leaves! I knew there must be a special cause; I’ll tell you all you want to know!”
“Yes, you will.”
“Klacasa, the bounty hunter girl eh? She’s trouble that one. Her ships a red Geffer, one gunned, Mandalorian design I think.” Maul remained silent, the Twi’lek started to tremble. “Ah… you want her docking code?! Yes?! ZO23795909WK! Yes! Ah… she was heading toward the kedeshbelt fields!” Still, Maul was silent. “I can’t tell you anymore!! I don’t know anything else!!”
“…you lie.”
Frantically the Twi’lek started clawing at the Sith’s hands. “I know nothing else!! I know nothing else!!!” Maul’s fingers tightened sharply, leaving him gasping in shock.
“You are trying my patience.” Maul held the Twi’lek above the ground and walked to the edge of the safety rail. Two miles below another sector of docking ships hummed. He held the strangling Twi’lek above the abyss, savoring his fear. Using the force to keep him aloft he eased his fingers. The Twi’lek pulled in deep lungfulls of air, tears streaming down his face.
“Acupeta- minibobo achuta! Wakasa shmitah! Esathe mirika!!” Maul waited, dispassionately watching as the creature curled up into itself, hanging fetal position from his fist. Several other locals looked their way, but none dared interfere. It was the unspoken law of Nar Shaddah, not your business, don’t get involved. A loud shriek from echoed to him from another terminal. Another Twi’lek, her eyes wide, the bag she’d been carrying fell to the metal floor.
“Tel’ Koro! No! Please, please don’t hurt him!!!” Tel’koro turned his head as much as he could, his gibbering stopped as he looked with undiluted horror at his captor’s focus of attention.
“Ledethe!” Maul shuddered, so many dark emotions sending ripples so close… he drank it in, teeth bared in savage joy. “Wait! Ignore her, she is no one! Knows nothing! I was lying, ah I was lying!” Maul could manage no more than a breathless whisper,
“Speak quickly… or I’ll hang you here by your lekku, and let you watch as I…”
“Stop! Ah stop! She will never reach her destination! Her ship, it was sabotaged by another bounty hunter before she left eh, it will fail!” He resumed sobbing, his eyes still focused on his mate. The other Twi’lek had rushed forward, only to loose her footing several feet away. She lay on the floor half stunned, her eyes fluttering. A third figure was coming forward from the crowd, humanoid, his ragged blond hair falling in his face as he advanced with a calm, sure stride. Maul watched him, yellow eyes narrowed in warning.
“Tel’ Koro has told you all he knows. I can vouch for him, I work with him at this dock.” The grey eyes that looked back upon him were cautious, but either from instinct, or stupidity, they were free of fear. “If there is anything else you would ask, I will answer you. I have been here all day. Perhaps I can put forth facts that he cannot.” The man knelt behind the woman, pulling her up, shaking her gently. Every move, every gesture, calm, measured, the Twi’lek allowed him to help her up. She buried her head in his shoulder. He did not take his eyes from Maul.
“Please… it is true, they work together…” She shook with silent tears, the human soothed her. Maul closed his eyes, feeling the hatred bleed…. He gave a desperate grab for it. It was gone; all he could see was grey, the darkness had eased. With a hiss of self loathing and disgust he tossed the weeping male into the human and female, knocking both to the ground.
In a whirl of black robes he was gone.
The couple embraced each other, absorbed in their own terror, relief, and thoughts. The dock technician looked at where the reaper had stood, and finally, allowed himself to shake.