|  Author | Topic: The Mandalorian (Read 592 times) |
Iaana Morranne
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Karma: 15 |  | The Mandalorian
« Thread Started on Feb 24, 2008, 10:57pm » | |
I figured I might as well start posting this. It's actually the third story (started second) of a series called Adventures of the Heroes: As Told by Dirk Orvot. On the lotrplaza, I was a member of a house called The Galaxy Far, Far Away, where Star Wars fans could chat and RP in Star Wars RPGs. This series was about my characters in that house, and The Mandalorian is about Arca Lazime, my Clone Wars character, and her Noghri copilot. If you want, you can find the stories The Life of a Jedi and Bound for Freedom on the plaza, both of which are first-drafts. Bound for Freedom is yet to be completed, and I have to go through The Life of a Jedi and change some things. For the moment, though, all you need to know about Dirk Orvot is this:
It is after the Vong Invasion (which I don't know much about.). Dirk works for Talon Karrde as an Information Specialist - a fancy term for a gatherer of information. In the first story, he went to Corellia and found a Jedi named Brienna Nebraski. He was the first person she told her life's story to, and, with her permission, he had it broadcast to the galaxy on a biography channel on the holovid. He decided he wanted to search for unsung heroes, and to tell their stories. The series of stories would be called Adventures of the Heroes: As Told by Dirk Orvot. A couple weeks after The Life of a Jedi first aired, Dirk met with Brienna's friend, Jorran Tozna, another Jedi. He, with the aid of - amazingly - Boba Fett, who had a large part in the story, told Dirk about his own adventures. Arca's Noghri copilot acted as his bodyguard while on Tatooine, and Arca herself made an appearance to listen and to make sure nothing went wrong.
The story aired, and was well-received by a recovering galaxy. Dirk aired even more stories, then, two years after he aired his first story, he finally got the story he had been most anticipating: the life story of Arca Lazime.
~~
This story is also a first draft, and, as such, an example of how my writing skills and style has changed in the past two years. The Prologue was actually added later, and was changed even later on, so it's of a better format than the first several chapters. On a different note, this story is of a different style than the first two of the series it's a part of, and is much longer. It is still in progress, and will be for quite a while, so don't be surprised if I run out of updates part of the way through an adventure.  So, without further rambling, I present to you this tale.
Enjoy!
~~~~
The Mandalorian
By Hyperdrive
Begun 12-13-05
—Prologue—
—One of Talon Karrde's headquarters on Malastare—
—Two years after the premier of The Life of a Jedi—
The door chime sounded, causing Dirk Orvot to look up from his work. "Come in," he called.
The door slid open, and in stepped a woman of thirty-eight-and-a-half years. "Hello, Dirk," she said brightly.
Dirk put down his datapad and stood. "Aya Lazime, welcome. What can I do for you?"
Aya smiled. From her pocket, she produced a datacard and held it out. "Mom asked me to give you this. Knowing how you love stories, she wanted you to spread hers. To tell others that not all of the Mandalorians were the murderers reputation makes them out to be."
Slowly, Dirk accepted the datacard as the two sat down. "She wrote down her life's details?"
"The most important events in her life. She included her thoughts and emotions about the events that transpired, along with those of several Jedi and one non-Jedi General in the Clone Wars. Oh, and surprise appearances by certain people you might be familiar with."
"Really." Eagerly, Dirk fished a spare datapad from a drawer and carefully inserted the datacard. "Who were they?"
"You shall see," Aya said, grinning as she enjoyed his suspense.
Dirk glanced up at the woman, then grinned and stuck his tongue out in a joking gesture. "Meanie."
Aya laughed. "All in the family." She nodded to the datapad. "Should I leave you alone to read that?"
"Huh? Oh, this. Well, I guess. It'll be a while before I finish," he said in a slightly occupied way.
"What were you working on, if I may ask?"
"Just putting together a message to my dad."
"You have a dad?" Aya joked.
"Yes, I have a dad," said Dirk, slightly indignantly. "And yes, he's still alive. That's why I'm sending him a letter, after all."
Aya smiled and stood to go. "Enjoy. Call me when you finish."
"Sure thing."
Aya left the room, and Dirk made himself comfortable. Then he began to read.
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Iaana Morranne
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Karma: 15 | | Re: The Mandalorian
« Reply #1 on Feb 25, 2008, 10:05am » | |
—Chapter One—
—A jungle on Malastare—
—Around one year after the Battle of Geonosis—
Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight of the Republic and Jedi General of the Army of the Republic, squinted through the pouring rain at the quarter-sized holo in front of him. The holocomm was the only piece of technology - except for the lightsabers - that he and the other Jedi Knight had with them. The two-man ship Obi-Wan had flown had crashed as he was entering the planet's atmosphere. The Jedi Knight, Mortagir Lamm, was the reason Obi-Wan had gone to the planet in the first place. Mortagir had crashed, as well, and now they both were stuck. But, hopefully, they wouldn't be for long.
And a fine place to get stranded, too, Obi-Wan thought to himself. "I'm not asking you to reassign a ship to come here and get us!" he shouted over the howling wind to the holo. "But it will be a few days before we reach a city by foot. Maybe a couple of weeks."
They had the holocomm's volume on full blast, so the person on the other end - General Derik Vor - didn't have to shout in order to be heard, though it sounded like he was. "I know that, sir. We're sending one of our Fringes to pick you and General Lamm up. I suggest you two get to a large clearing ASAP. She'll be there within the hour."
A smuggler. They were sending a smuggler to pick the two Jedi up.
Obi-Wan drew his robe closer about himself. "Who is she, General?"
General Vor's voice came a bit louder, this time, as the wind and rain began to die down. "Someone relatively knew on our payroll - only been on it for about a week. Don't know much about her - can't even remember her name! But I do remember her ship. It's a heavily modified yacht. Large, too! Could probably fit three whole squads of troopers in it - maybe more!"
"What's its name?" Mortagir shouted over the sound of rain hitting the leaves of the jungle and of the wind rustling the leaves.
"You're going to find it odd, like I did. It's called the Mandalorian's Jewel!"
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If I'm a hyperdrive, I'm the Falcon's.
Pretty Pink Princess of Foo and Procrastination (and Clashing )
Go BUCKEYES!! |
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Iaana Morranne
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Karma: 15 | | Re: The Mandalorian
« Reply #2 on Feb 27, 2008, 5:09pm » | |
—Chapter Two—
—Malastare—
—Thirty standard minutes later—
Arca Lazime, a twenty-four-year-old woman with alternating two-inch- and three-inch-long brown hair and chocolate brown eyes, bit back a growl as her yacht was buffeted by the strong storm winds. "Kahk, get us stabilized," she ordered needlessly. Her Noghri copilot was already doing so. "Warbler, do you have a fix on their location?"
R2-D9 - dubbed "Warbler" by Arca - gave an affirmative sounding chirp. He rotated his orange and white dome to look at her. Whistling and warbling - a sound which got him his name - he told her where to go.
Arca nodded as she mentally translated. For what seemed like the billionth time in her life, she was glad that she had painstakingly learned how to understand exactly what the orange and white droid was saying. Sensitive hearing also helped in listening for the subtleties.
As she steered the ship in the specified direction, she glanced over at the steel-gray skinned Noghri in the copilot's seat. Every time the heavily modified yacht showed signs of bucking, Kahkabrah - or Kahk, as Arca fondly called him - made minute adjustments to the stabilizers.
"Nearly there," she muttered as she eased off on the sublights and activated the repulsors. So close to the ground, they were, Arca nearly had them skimming the treetops.
Kahk said something in his mewing language that didn't sound too nice. "I do not think I will soon get used to the way you fly, Captain Lazime," he said in Basic, his voice a little off from nervousness.
Arca grinned at him. "Thanks. By the way, I'm going to show off. Hang on."
Abruptly, she cut back on the repulsors. Warbler squealed and Kahk said something even more vicious in Noghri, then the astromech unit twittered a bit as the ship came to a hover two meters above the ground.
"I forgive you, Warbler. And, Kahk, I do believe the smuggling business has been rubbing off on you." Arca grinned at the slightly flustered looking Noghri beside her.
Kahk made a soft hissing noise. "I apologize for speaking so. I do not think I am quite so honorable as I had been before we met, Captain."
Arca gave him a patient look as she landed the ship in the clearing. "Don't be absurd, Kahk. You're one of the most honorable people I have ever met!"
She stood to go. "I'll go meet our passengers. Soon as I signal you, get the ship headed to space. Warbler, start plotting our hyperspace course. We're on a tight schedule, here."
Two affirmatives came her way, then Arca headed for the ramp. Time to meet these Jedi Generals of the Republic.
****
After General Vor signed off, Obi-Wan and Mortagir packed up the holocomm. "He said she's been on the payroll for a week, now. I wonder what they've been having her do."
Mortagir shrugged at Obi-Wan's comment. "We'll have to ask. Come on. There's a large clearing only about five minutes away." The black-haired human smiled. "I stumbled across it after my ship crashed. We should go there."
Obi-Wan nodded in agreement, the picked up the small holocomm and began to follow the brown-skinned man. "I don't suppose you know anything about this smuggler."
Mortagir shrugged again, the shoulders of his brown Jedi robe lifting a couple of centimeters. "Only that she's a woman and that she pilots a heavily modified yacht named the Mandalorian's Jewel - odd name, I must say - and that she's been on the payroll for a week."
"In essence, only what General Vor told us."
"Pretty much, yeah."
Five minutes later, with the rain dying down, they reached the clearing. Obi-Wan turned on the comm so that the smuggler would be able to locate them, then they settled in to wait.
Nearly twenty minutes had passed before the sound of sublight engines was heard. Three minutes later, that sound died down.
Mortagir glanced at Obi-Wan. "Maybe it's not our ride," he suggested. "I'm sure she'll get here." No sooner than had he said it when a yacht appeared over the clearing and dropped straight down. As it came to a hover two meters above the ground, then landed after a moment, the eyebrows of both Jedi shot up. "Good pilot," Obi-Wan said. Mortagir nodded in agreement.
A few moments later, as the two headed toward the yacht with the holocomm in tow, the ramp opened to reveal a woman standing five feet, five inches high. "Hurry up," she said, as if the Jedi were going too slow. "The faster we get to Coruscant, the more we get paid. And," she added with a slight hesitation, "I don't want to have to shoot any predators off you guys."
We? Obi-Wan glanced around once he got inside the ship and out of the rain, two steps behind Mortagir. No one else was in sight, but he could sense one other life form in the cockpit, along with a droid.
The woman closed the hatch, sealing the rain out. "Introductions can be made in hyperspace." She stepped over to the intercom and activated it. "Kahk, take us out."
Obi-Wan secured the holocomm, suddenly aware that they were moving.
"Why is this ship named the Mandalorian's Jewel?" Mortagir asked. He never had been a subtle guy. He loved to be straightforward.
"Chit-chat can take place in hyperspace, as well. Now be seated and silent," the woman said. Almost too quickly, Obi-Wan noted, and it sounded like she was on the verge of snapping at them. "I've got to get to the cockpit."
Obi-Wan nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
The woman sent a glare his way, as if daring him to disobey. Then she was gone, heading for the cockpit.
****
Arca let herself drop into her seat. They were already almost out of the atmosphere. Soon after that, they would be out of the gravity well. And soon after that, they would be in hyperspace.
The woman made a face. That one Jedi had gotten too close to touching a sensitive spot in her emotions. She wasn't looking forward to telling them the reason her ship was named as it was. People didn't usually react well to the news. For, years before, even before Arca was born, her father had been one of the galaxy's best warriors. He had been a Mandalorian.
He had retired, settled down on Concord Dawn, the homeworld of the famous - or infamous, to some - Jango Fett. He had settled down, married, and soon became the father of a smiling baby girl. Two years later, there was a new addition to the family. A cute, chubby little boy named Eric. Unfortunately, Arca's mother died two-and-a-half years later in childbirth, the new baby boy with her.
As soon as Arca was old enough, her father began to train her to fight and to use a blaster. Once Eric was old enough, he began to train the boy, as well.
Arca's father had told her and her brother many stories about the Mandalorians and Jango Fett. One day, he went to a local tavern and came back with many more stories about Fett. Then the stories had all but depleted. No new ones came for a while, but every once in a while, stories about him popped up here and there. It was as if Fett had disappeared in the galaxy, reappearing every now and then to take on bounties.
Then it happened.
When Arca was twenty-two years old, her farm was attacked by an old enemy of her father's. The man murdered her father and brother, and almost killed Arca, too. Arca managed to escape with her droid, Warbler, in the yacht her father had acquired for her use. Her father had named it the Mandalorian's Jewel, and had intended to give it to her before she passed his final test.
That test never happened. And from that day on, Arca had always wondered what it was supposed to be.
After her family's murder, Arca went to Nar Shaddaa. She got a job as a smuggler and, along with Warbler, traveled the galaxy.
She met Kahk on Nar Shaddaa, soon after her first run. He was fighting off some pirates who had abducted the short grey alien from his homeworld and brought him to Nar Shaddaa. One was about to shoot him, but Arca shot the pirate instead. She had helped him fight the rest off, then the Noghri had, after presenting the idea to her and she agreed, sworn to protect and help her until the dept was payed. That time had long since passed, but Kahk remained with her as a copilot and partner. He wasn't so much of a bodyguard for her anymore, but he played that role when needed.
Arca turned her mind back to the task at hand. They were out of the gravity well, now. As she made ready to bring them into hyperspace, she noticed Kahk looking at her. "Yes?"
"You seem distant, Captain. Are you all right?"
Arca looked away, focusing her attention on taking them to hyperspace, though it didn't take much. "Just thinking about my past."
"I see." Kahk knew all about her past. Arca had made it a point to tell him about it soon after he became her bodyguard - though she didn't really need one - and partner.
"Well, then," Arca said, placing her hand on the hyperdrive levers. "To Coruscant or bust. And to hope we actually get paid."
She pulled the levers back and watched as the white pinpoints of stars turned into the white streaks, then to the mottled sky of hyperspace.
|
If I'm a hyperdrive, I'm the Falcon's.
Pretty Pink Princess of Foo and Procrastination (and Clashing )
Go BUCKEYES!! |
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Iaana Morranne
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Karma: 15 | | Re: The Mandalorian
« Reply #3 on Apr 5, 2008, 7:25pm » | |
— Chapter Three—
—In hyperspace, en route to Coruscant—
—Five minutes later—
"Well," Arca said to the Jedi. "I guess introductions are in order, now. I'm Arca Lazime, if you didn't know. This droid here is Warbler." She motioned to her orange and white R2 unit.
"And I am Kahkabrah clan Bakh'tor," Kahk said from his - until now - silent vigil near Arca's side.
The Jedi each nodded. "I'm Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi, and this is Jedi Knight Mortagir Lamm," the bearded one said.
Warbler whistled something. "Yes, Warbler, the stranded Jedi Generals." Arca rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me you've been that inattentive."
Warbler blatted at her.
"Watch your language!"
Warbler warbled and beeped, then trilled up and down for a moment.
Arca frowned at the droid. "Of course I remember that time. I don't have a memory that bad."
Another blat sounded from the droid.
"Yeah, well-"
Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "Artoo-Deetoo and See-Threepio aren't even that bad, ma'am. Is it always like this?"
Arca glared at the astromech. "Only sometimes."
"I don't think I've ever met someone who understood astromechs," Mortagir spoke up. His brown eyes were studying her; Arca met his gaze unflinchingly.
"Kahk and I both know the languages. It's helpful to not have to look at the translation screens."
Mortagir seemed to consider that. "Right."
Kahk spoke in his mewing language again, and Arca nodded in acknowledgment. "Yes, we can. Don't worry."
Kahk made a small hissing noise as he glanced over at the Jedi. "I was not worrying."
Obi-Wan cleared his throat again. "How long do you think it will take us to reach Coruscant?"
Arca smiled slightly, glad for the interruption. "Two days, at the most."
"That's fast," Mortagir said carefully. "I take it the hyperdrive and sublight engines were one of the heavily modified things?"
"Yes. Those, and the shields, navicomputer, weapons, and the like were upgraded." Arca eyed the Jedi warily. She found herself wondering when she would be asked about her past. She didn't have to wait long.
"Where did you get the ship?" Mortagir asked slowly. It seemed he knew how carefully he had to proceed if he wanted to get answers.
Silence reigned for several moments. Arca was vaguely aware of Kahk silently heading to the cockpit.
Warbler let out a low whistle. Arca sighed. "If you must know, it was my father's."
Mortagir nodded slowly. "Where did you live?"
It's time, I guess. Arca took a deep breath. Hey, her conscience stopped her when she began to have second thoughts. You should be proud of your past. Of who you are. You're not just a smuggler. You're Mandalorian - in a sense. A good one, too. Who cares what they think? Kahk accepts you. Warbler accepts you. Who cares if the Jedi don't? Arca bit her lower lip. Again, she took a deep breath. But this time, she didn't stop. "Concord Dawn."
Mortagir frowned. "Never heard of it."
Arca decided she should progress slowly. "Maybe not, but you'd recognize the name of one prominent figure from that world."
"Who?" Obi-Wan asked.
Arca allowed herself a small twitch of a smile. "Ever hear of the Mandalorian bounty hunter named Jango Fett?"
When Obi-Wan nodded in silence, she continued. "My father told me stories about him as I was growing up. More times than I can count, I've wondered what it would be like if I could meet him." She grinned. "I don't know if I would want to find out, had he still been alive."
Obi-Wan leaned back in his seat. "I remember Jango. When I met him, it wasn't the best of circumstances."
"From what Dad told me, a group of Jedi lead by Jedi Master Dooku went to Galidran to arrest Fett and his group of Mandalorians. He - Dad - said that the governor was in league with the Death Watch - they were - are - major enemies of the Mandalorians and are a pack of murderers - and had asked the Jedi to come and arrest the Mandalorians. Fett and his group had just finished killing political activists, and Fett had sent his men back to their camp while he went to the governor to collect their pay. Vizsla, the leader of the Death Watch, appeared and tried to kill Fett. Fett escaped, but had his jet pack destroyed in mid-air by Vizsla. He managed to get back to camp just ahead of the Jedi. A battle ensued, and ended when all the Mandalorians but Fett had died. Fett, himself, had killed many Jedi." At the last part, Arca winced. No, she decided, she didn't want to meet him - especially with her current loyalty. She shook her head, then continued. "The Jedi turned him over to the governor and he was sold into slavery. No one except Fett himself and maybe even Dooku and the mysterious Tyranus know how he escaped. What we do know is that Fett finally killed Vizsla, the leader of the Death Watch and the man who had his family killed. After that, he began work as a bounty hunter." Arca shrugged. "In a way, we're similar in our pasts. We both grew up on Concord Dawn and both had our families murdered by the Death Watch."
Obi-Wan and Mortagir were looking at her strangely. "Count Dooku?" Obi-Wan asked in a weird voice.
"Yeah. He hired Fett as a bodyguard. That's the reason he died, after all. He was doing his duty, albeit on the wrong side, and Master Windu was doing his. Master Windu was given no other choice but to kill him. No hard feelings - from me."
Obi-Wan visibly pushed his thoughts away. "Right."
Arca smiled. "Well, make yourself comfortable. I'll be in my cabin if you need me." She turned, then set off at a moderate pace for her cabin, leaving the Jedi in her wake.
In her cabin, she paused as the door slid shut behind her. A touch of the controls, and the door silently and securely locked.
With a sigh of carefully controlled relief, Arca leaned against the door. She slid to her knees and balled her hands into fists. Her head sagged, and the tears began to come.
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If I'm a hyperdrive, I'm the Falcon's.
Pretty Pink Princess of Foo and Procrastination (and Clashing )
Go BUCKEYES!! |
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Iaana Morranne
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Leia's Right Hand
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Karma: 15 | | Re: The Mandalorian
« Reply #4 on Apr 10, 2008, 8:03pm » | |
—Chapter Four—
—In hyperspace, en route to Coruscant—
—Immediately following Arca Lazime's departure from the ship's lounge—
Obi-Wan pursed his lips. "Interesting woman," he commented.
Mortagir nodded in agreement. "I'll say. I thought Mandalorians were only men."
Obi-Wan felt a small shiver run along his spine. Images of the previous year had come back to him in a rush - memories of his fight with Jango Fett atop the rain-swept Tipoca City on the water covered world of Kamino where it rained constantly. "Apparently," he began slowly, "she's a first - in this age, anyhow." Sometimes, he was amazed by Mortagir's ability to piece together minuscule puzzle pieces into the bigger picture. "Some Mandalorians were women, back before they were pretty much wiped out."
"Huh. You're probably right." Mortagir's expression was thoughtful. "We'll have to ask the lady if she minds us telling the Council."
Obi-Wan glanced in the direction of the source of sudden turmoil. "I think," he pointed out, "we should wait until later."
Mortagir glanced in the direction of Arca's cabin, as well. "I agree," he said wholeheartedly.
****
Arca took a deep breath, regaining her composure and standing up. As she looked around the room, she shook her head.
Why did I get so emotional when I mentioned something in relation to my father and his death? I haven't done that for months. She frowned slightly, chastising herself. They're not com-ing back, Arca. They're dead, and there's nothing you can do to change that.
With a sigh, she walked over to her bed and lay down. As she drifted off to sleep, the dreams - memories, rather - started again.
****
—Coruscant—
—Two days later—
As the cockpit hatch opened after they landed, Arca turned to face the two Jedi Generals. Obi-Wan carried the portable holocomm, and from the looks on the two Generals' faces, they had a question for her. "Yes?" she asked politely.
Mortagir cleared his throat. "Uh, General Kenobi and I were wondering if you minded whether we told anybody about who you are or not."
She gave them a look. "And who am I?"
"A Mandalorian."
"How did you figure that one?"
"This ship's name, for starters."
She shook her head, unable to keep from smiling. "My father named it for me."
"Well, are you?"
She hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Yes," she admitted. "Don't go telling the whole galaxy, now."
"We won't," Mortagir promised.
Arca went back to powering down the ship. "Go ahead and wait by the exit. Warbler and I will be there shortly."
The Jedi stood there for a moment, then left the cockpit. As she, her copilot, and droid finished powering the ship down, she glanced out the viewport and saw the shuttle of the Supreme Chancellor docking with the landing platform. Taking this cue, she stood. "Finish up here, if you please, Kahk. I'll be back soon. Just want to see the two gents off."
Kahk nodded. "As you wish, Captain."
"Warbler, come with me."
As she made her way to the exit, she smiled at the astromech droid. "Promise me you won't say anything bad, okay?"
The droid whistled.
"Thank you."
At the exit, the Jedi were waiting patiently.
"Thank you for your help, Captain. I'll try and make certain that you are paid," Obi-Wan said with a slight bow.
Arca returned the bow, then touched the hatch controls. It slid open, and the Jedi stepped onto the landing platform, Arca and Warbler following. "You'd better," she muttered.
****
"Greetings, Chancellor Palpatine," Obi-Wan said with a formal bow. He and Mortagir repeated the bow to the two others standing there. "Hello, Master Windu, Master Yoda."
The Supreme Chancellor smiled. "Master Kenobi, Master Lamm. It is good to see you back."
He shifted his gaze to Arca. "I believe we have you to thank for picking the Generals up, Captain Lazime."
"I do it for the money, Chancellor. That's all," Arca said flatly, but with an odd look in her eye that told Obi-Wan differently.
"Of course." The smile remained on Palpatine's face, but it suddenly seemed a bit colder.
Yoda stepped forward. "Welcome back, Masters Obi-Wan and Mortagir. Consult with us, General Vor wishes to."
"Of course, Master Yoda," Obi-Wan said. He wondered what the man wanted to talk about.
As the Jedi and the Chancellor turned to go, Arca cleared her throat. "Remember what you told me, General Kenobi."
Obi-Wan looked back at her and nodded, sealing his promise. "I will."
****
Obi-Wan stared at General Vor in shock, vaguely aware that Mortagir was doing the same and that Mace and Yoda were watching them.
"You're joking," he managed.
General Vor frowned. "Not at all, General. You disagree?"
Obi-Wan ran through a Jedi calming technique. "I don't think it's a good idea."
"Why not? We've done it to other smugglers, and they haven't complained much."
"Yes, but Arca Lazime is different."
"How so? I can't imagine how she would be. She is a smuggler, and just about all smugglers are alike, in my opinion."
Mortagir stepped forward. "She's not just a smuggler, General Vor."
"What is she, then?"
The two Jedi Knights glanced at each other.
"She said she's Mandalorian," Obi-Wan said, wondering how the other would digest the news. General Vor wasn't a Jedi, and his information digestion was unpredictable at times. "They have this thing about honor."
For several moments, all that could be heard in the room was their breathing and the speeders rushing past.
"I was under the impression that Mandalorians weren't women, these days," General Vor said at length.
"As was I," Mortagir agreed. "But there have been Mandalorian women in the past. They can fight just as well."
General Vor stood there for a moment. "We could present the idea to her and her copilot," he suggested.
Mace stepped toward them, quelling any further argument, whether or not Obi-Wan was planning on it. "Agreed."
General Vor walked over to the comm and, after shooting the two Jedi Knights a look, told the person on the other end to ask Arca and her copilot to come to them.
Obi-Wan exchanged glances with his fellow Jedi as they waited. He was not looking forward to this . . .
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If I'm a hyperdrive, I'm the Falcon's.
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Iaana Morranne
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Karma: 15 | | Re: The Mandalorian
« Reply #5 on Apr 12, 2008, 9:32am » | |
—Chapter Five—
—Coruscant—
—In the Supreme Chancellor's office—
—Five minutes later—
Arca Lazime was not happy. "Let me get this straight," she said, her tone frosty. "You want to withhold my payment for picking up your two stranded Jedi until after some . . . commando mission, and you want to pay me to take your ARC trooper and commando guys, and three Jedi on the mission. Is that about right?"
General Derik Vor nodded in confirmation. "Precisely."
Arca's brown eyes flashed. "And just who thought up this idea?"
Everyone looked expectantly at General Vor. It was clear that even the Jedi Masters were wondering the same thing.
General Vor sighed. "Chancellor Palpatine suggested most of it."
"What parts, exactly? The part where you withhold my payment?" Her words were underlaid with fire.
Before General Vor could reply, a new voice spoke up as the door to the room slid open. "Yes, actually." The occupants of the room turned to face the new speaker, and Kahk made a small hissing sound from beneath his hooded cloak.
"Supreme Chancellor, what a surprise," Arca said, an edge in her voice.
Supreme Chancellor Palpatine entered the room, hands clasped behind his back. "I assure you, Captain Lazime, that I have good reasons for suggesting this course of action."
By now, Arca's patience was almost spent. "Oh, yeah? Please list them."
"Come now, Captain. Calm down. I held the assumption the Mandalorians were more disciplined, despite their reputations as murderers."
It was the wrong thing to say to Arca. It snapped her patience completely.
"You know what, Chancellor? Not all of us live up to that reputation. And if you didn't already know, the Death Watch framed the Mandalorians on Galidran. Murderers and liars, the whole bunch," Arca growled. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her arm. She glanced down at her copilot, her angry look melting away.
Kahk gazed up at her, his meaning clear. Arca took a deep breath, calming herself. "I apologize, Chancellor. My anger was - mostly - uncalled for."
"Completely understandable, Captain. You are forgiven. Now. Would you still like to hear my reasons?"
Arca studied the faces of the Jedi. Mace held his usual serious expression, Yoda was frowning slightly, and Mortagir and Obi-Wan's faces were wrought with concern.
"No, sir, I don't think that will be necessary." She turned to Kahk and Warbler. "Well?"
Kahk remained silent, but nodded slowly. Warbler, in answer, twittered for a couple of moments.
"All right, then. We'll do it," she sighed.
She whirled toward General Vor before he could say anything. "I want my crew and I to be payed ten thousand for this commando mission, double our payment for picking up your Jedi, as well as a hundred credits extra for withholding payment, after this is all over," she demanded.
"Done," General Vor said, looking very much relieved. "Will that be all?"
"I want to know how many I'm transporting."
General Vor motioned to the watching Jedi. "General Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, General Lamm, and two commando teams, plus an ARC trooper. That would be twelve people."
Arca worked that out in her mind. "I guess we'll have enough room. But none of them, except the Jedi, are to enter the cockpit."
"You may tell the clones that when they get onboard."
"When do we leave?" Arca asked, crossing her arms.
General Vor smiled. "As soon as possible."
"Have them report to my ship as soon as they're ready," Arca ordered, then turned to the Chancellor and the Jedi Masters, who were watching them curiously.
"Chancellor, Master Windu, Master Yoda," she said, nodding at each in turn. She turned to go, and wondered just what exactly she was getting herself into.
****
Obi-Wan watched the door close behind Arca and her two crew members. "Well," he said after a silence filled moment. "That went well."
"Except for the first part, but yeah." General Vor shook his head. "I apologize, Chancellor Palpatine, for Captain Lazime's behavior. She's Mandalorian, or so they say, and they don't always have the best of manners."
"As I said to her," Palpatine said with a brief wave of his hand, "all is forgiven. But she has to learn that money isn't the most important thing in the galaxy."
"I expect she knows that already," Mace Windu spoke. "She seems to value truth and honesty."
"I do hope that she values them more than money, Master Windu," Palpatine said in a sincere way.
Mace only nodded and looked over at Obi-Wan. "Did she mention anything about Jango Fett to you?"
Obi-wan winced only slightly. "As a matter of fact, she did. She said her father had told her stories about him, and also told Mortagir and I why Fett didn't like us Jedi."
"She also said she held no hard feelings concerning Jango Fett's death, but I'm assuming that she held the man in high regard," Mortagir added.
"Hmmm . . . Full of mystery, Captain Lazime is." Yoda walked to the window, making small, quiet noises every now and then as he used his walking stick. He stopped, then stood looking out the window for a moment. When he turned back to the others, he focused his green-eyed gaze on the two Jedi Knights. "Keep an eye on her, you must. Required, careful decisions are, for this mission. An important Separatist facility, it is, that we are striking." He shook his head. "Rash actions, there cannot be. As well, protect her you must. Important her survival is."
"Somehow, Master, I doubt Captain Lazime's copilot would allow her to make rash actions." Obi-Wan nodded. "But we'll keep our eyes on her, and we'll make sure she stays safe. You have my word."
"It's settled, then. Captain Lazime has agreed. Obi-Wan, Anakin is waiting for you near the shuttle that you will take back to the landing platform," Mace said. "The two commando squads are with him, along with an ARC trooper whom you have worked with before."
"Yes, Master."
The two Jedi Knights bowed. "May the Force be with you," Mortagir said.
"And with you, on your mission, may the Force be," Yoda said, his large ears swiveling in thought.
Obi-Wan led the way out the door. "I do hope Anakin has been behaving himself in my absence," he said once they were walking through the halls to the shuttle.
"Don't worry, Obi-Wan. I'm sure he's been good." Mortagir grinned. "I mean, isn't he always?"
"Define always," Obi-Wan stated dryly.
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If I'm a hyperdrive, I'm the Falcon's.
Pretty Pink Princess of Foo and Procrastination (and Clashing )
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Iaana Morranne
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Leia's Right Hand
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Karma: 15 | | Re: The Mandalorian
« Reply #6 on Apr 18, 2008, 11:16pm » | |
—Chapter Six—
—Coruscant—
—In the Mandalorian's Jewel—
—One hour later—
"All right, Kahk. We're out of here."
Her copilot looked over at her. "Aye, Captain. Clearance has been granted already. All that we wait upon is your piloting us out of here."
"You don't like it here, either, huh?"
"No," Kahk hissed. "Too many buildings and people." His expression changed to that of a thoughtful one. "I do not like Nar Shaddaa, either, really. I merely cope with it."
She couldn't argue with that. Arca nodded as she finished the pre-flight check and lifted off. As the ship rose up into the sky, the cockpit door slid open and the youngest of the three Jedi entered.
Before he could speak, Arca cut him off with a raised hand. "Don't even think it, Skywalker."
"Think what?" came the reply.
"Think about asking if you could pilot."
There was a soft thud as Anakin Skywalker plopped himself into one of the seats behind the pilot and copilot's seats. "I wasn't about to," he said. From the tone of his voice, he seemed to be studying the cockpit.
"Good," Arca grunted as she piloted them through the atmosphere. "Keep it like that. And please don't touch anything."
"You don't like me, do you?"
Still not looking at the padawan, she made some adjustments to the controls. "I have to admit: Jedi aren't my favorite people in the galaxy."
Now she glanced back at the Jedi to see him sitting on the edge of his seat, looking at the control board.
She grinned. "But that doesn't stop me from having fun with them." At that, she activated the sublights and pushed the throttle forward to full inside of a second. Anakin, having not expected the move, despite his Jedi abilities, was slammed back in his seat. When he recovered, he glared at the grinning woman who was watching him, frowning and as he rubbed his head. "What did you do that for?" Quietly, he muttered, "I hope everything was strapped down, back there."
Arca grinned. "To have fun. Now strap in, boy, or you're going to be tossed around like prey in a nexu's mouth. I tend to not have the dampeners on at one hundred percent up here."
"How very colorful," Anakin stated dryly, but began strapping in without further comment.
Kahk grinned. "When you stay aboard a ship for several days at a time and you're a smuggler," he hissed, "you require a sense of humor."
Anakin seemed to want to contest the issue, but also seemed to know when to keep his mouth shut.
The cockpit door slid open and Obi-Wan stepped inside. He sat down and strapped in, then cast a small smile in Anakin's direction. "Making friends, are we?"
"Oh, you know me, Master. Can't help but do otherwise," said Anakin.
"Ha! Who has the sense of humor now?" Arca grinned as she plotted their hyperspace course.
"Me, apparently."
"Don't bet on it, kid," Arca said, smirking at the padawan. Her hand strayed toward the controls, and Anakin checked to see if he was properly strapped in. He clearly didn't want to go through that again.
"You guys all set back there?" she asked the Jedi Knight.
Obi-Wan nodded. "Ready and waiting."
They were outside the atmosphere and gravity well, now. As Arca reached to take them into hyperspace, she sent a glare back at Anakin. "Make sure he doesn't touch anything in here besides the seat," she murmured to Kahk.
Slowly, carefully, Anakin's hand inched toward the wall. The Noghri hissed, and Anakin sharply drew back his hand. Obi-Wan chuckled for a moment, then grinned at Kahk's glaring at the padawan.
Anakin returned the glare, then sent another glare Obi-Wan's way. "Whose side are you on, anyway?" Anakin asked in a slightly injured tone.
Obi-Wan merely smiled, supplying no answer. In response, he got another glare sent his way by his padawan as Arca brought them into hyperspace.
"Bunch of nut-jobs," she heard faintly, and laughed.
****
—On Coruscant—
—In the office of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine—
—Immediately following the departure of the Mandalorian's Jewel—
"They have entered hyperspace, Chancellor."
Palpatine turned to look at General Derik Vor, who stood next to him holding a comlink. "Thank you, General. Please keep me further updated on their progress when they report in, no matter what the importance of the news."
"Of course, sir."
"You are dismissed, General."
General Vor nodded. "Thank you, Chancellor. Good day."
Good day, indeed, Palpatine thought as he watched the General head to the door. "General," he called. General Vor turned back toward him, and Palpatine held out a datapad.
General Vor stepped back over and took it. He read the message, then his eyebrows rose for the briefest of moments. "As you wish, sir," General Vor said, handing Palpatine the datapad.
"You disagree?"
"No, sir." General Vor frowned very slightly, then took the datapad back. He wrote something, then gave it once more to Palpatine.
Up top, there was the message: "Contact our friend and inform him of this mission, and tell him that he is to ensure that Thord survives. Skywalker is to be allowed to live; I have plans for the boy. The Mandalorian and her companions may be killed if necessary. Kill the clones, but let the Jedi escape. Not obviously, of course."
Below it, there was the message Derik wrote. "If Thord is to be left alive, should he not be told? According to the Mandalorian Smuggler's reputation and past, she would kill Thord if she had the chance."
"Not to worry, my good General. They will survive," Palpatine said, erasing the messages. It wouldn't do to let the Jedi know what they were talking about.
General Vor nodded. "Of course they will."
"Now you may go."
"Yes, sir."
Palpatine smiled as General Vor left. Loyalty such as that was rare, these days. Most would have given away the secret before now. Especially with the Jedi.
He frowned. It would be a pity to have to dispose of him if he got too close to letting out the truth. Such generals like him were hard to come by in the Republic. In fact, he doubted he would be able to find anyone else quite like that.
Yes. People like that were very rare.
He closed his eyes. Any time, now, the smuggler would be meeting the clones that she was transporting to the Separatist's base.
The base was on a world called Vargborn, a little-known planet on the Outer Rim. There were no natives that they knew of, but the world was pleasant and dense with foliage. Wildlife and water was abundant, and it was not too unlike the jungle moon Yavin IV. It had two moons, both rocky and uninhabitable.
It was the perfect place for an ambush.
Fortunately for the Jedi, they wouldn't be ambushed until they were inside the base. Dooku would stay out of the way, letting Thord and the droids do the work. The Dark Jedi was to let the Jedi and clones destroy part of the base, then the clones were to be . . . terminated. The Jedi were to be chased away, and it didn't matter if the smuggler and her crew lived or died. They could be replaced. They were expendable.
Perhaps they should be eliminated anyway, for the Mandalorian might prove to be trouble in the future . . .
And that she would. Palpatine just didn't know that, yet. She would be very big trouble for the Separatists.
But would that help his plans, if she did turn out to be so? The Supreme Chancellor supposed it would, if he adapted his plans a bit. But he would just have to find out.
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If I'm a hyperdrive, I'm the Falcon's.
Pretty Pink Princess of Foo and Procrastination (and Clashing )
Go BUCKEYES!! |
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Iaana Morranne
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Leia's Right Hand
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Karma: 15 | | Re: The Mandalorian
« Reply #7 on Apr 26, 2008, 9:19pm » | |
Now we finally get to learn about Arca's past.
~~~~
—Chapter Seven—
—The Mandalorian's Jewel—
—Ten minutes after the jump to hyperspace—
"Now this is odd," said Arca, speaking the first thing that came to mind.
"Nice to meet you, too," one of the clones answered with a smirk, looking her up and down.
"And who might you be?" the smuggler asked curiously, crossing her arms and arching an eyebrow.
The trooper was muscular, and wore a white suit of armor decorated with blue stripes. His armor wasn't the only thing that was different from the other clones'. His manner and posture were different, too. His white and blue helmet rested on the chair he had just stood up from, accompanied by a heavy blaster rifle. His smirk stayed on his lips, and he more or less copied her pose by crossing his arms and tilting his head a bit. Arca found herself looking at the very face her father had described when telling the stories to her and Eric.
"Advanced Recon Commando D-12. Jedi Skywalker calls me Domino. And you are?"
"ARC clone, huh? Heard of ‘em," said Arca with a small frown. "I'm Arca Lazime, captain of this vessel." She motioned with her head to the Noghri and droid beside her. "This is my copilot Kahkabrah, or Kahk, and my droid Warbler. If he gets in trouble, refer to him as Artoo-Deenine and he'll know he's in trouble."
"I'll take that under advisement," Domino said with a small grunt. He cast a suspicious glance at Kahk. "Can they be trusted, General?"
"Yes," Obi-Wan said with a nod.
"So quick to assume, General? If you lived on the fringe like I do, it would take more than one small incident be able to trust someone," Arca said with a small, sly smile.
"General Kenobi sometimes takes things for granted," Domino broke in before Obi-Wan could speak. "Sometimes too often."
"So it's true that you ARC troopers, as I've heard, ‘display some of Jango Fett's personality and independence'?" Arca's eyebrows shot up and her smile turned into a smirk.
"Yes," Mortagir said, looking up from his self-assigned task of tinkering with a broken weapon. It was an extra he had brought along for Anakin in case the padawan became restless.
Arca turned toward the drink dispenser on the other side of the lounge. Her stomach felt queer, and she decided that something to drink might settle it. "Part of me's glad I'll never be able to meet the guy," she muttered as she walked towards the dispenser. She tapped in a command, then frowned. She repeated the command, then slapped it on the top. When it still didn't work, she turned to look at Warbler. "I thought you said you fixed this."
Warbler let out an innocent whistle, rolling back a little.
"I'm just saying. Take a look at it again, will you?"
"I could, if you want."
Arca looked sharply at Anakin. "You?" She frowned for a moment, then shrugged. "Go ahead and take a look. Feel free to improve it if you feel necessary. Don't delete any recipes, though. Call me, Kahk, or Warbler if you need anything."
She let out a silent sigh, then headed aft, running her fingers backwards through her hair. Her wandering feet led her through the yacht; past the small docking bay, past the gun ports, past the various rooms and compartments, and to the rear observation window. There was an acceleration couch there, and she sat on it, watching hyperspace rush past. How long she sat there, staring into nothing, she didn't know. Eventually, Anakin appeared. He sat down next to her, broken weapon and a tool in hand. "Fixed the drink dispenser."
"That quickly?" Arca continued staring out the window, legs hugged to her chest and chin on her knees.
"If you consider an hour and a half quick, I suppose."
Arca's head came up. "What? How long?"
"Well, it took me an hour just to un-wire and correctly rewire the thing. Your droid did a pretty good job on it." Anakin grinned. "Of messing it up, that is. It took the remaining half an hour to fix the rest of it. Kahk told me that he was surprised it was in that bad of shape. We discussed mechanics for . . . oh, another half an hour. You've been sitting here for about two hours." He frowned slightly, looking up from his tinkering. "What have you been doing?"
"Actually . . . nothing. Just sitting here, staring at the Big Empty."
"That hardly qualifies as nothing."
"I know. You don't need to remind me, okay?" she suddenly snapped.
"Okay . . ."
Realizing how she had spoken, she sighed. "Sorry. I'm tired."
"Something tells me that's not it." Anakin frowned slightly. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"Uh-huh. Sure." Anakin smiled knowingly.
Arca looked at him for several moments, then averted her gaze again. "You remind me of Eric."
"Eric?"
"My brother. Two years younger than me, and would have been one year older than you."
"Would have been?" Anakin put down the broken weapon and the tool, curiosity in his brilliant blue eyes.
"He died, two years ago." It was all Arca could do to hold back the tears. Her voice choked up, and she cleared her throat.
"How?" said Anakin softly.
"He was . . . murdered." Arca grew distant, her mind going back two years. "We had no warning," she whispered. "They came out of the fields in the dark, and my father had no choice."
"Who?"
Arca didn't hear him, but she began telling what happened anyway. "No warning," she repeated in a bare whisper, a tear trailing down her cheek. "He had no choice."
****
—Concord Dawn—
—Two years before—
"Da-ad!"
Arca glanced over at her twenty-year-old brother. "Keep it down, Eric! You should know better than that!"
"But I need to ask him about these sensors," Eric Lazime explained. "They're acting up again."
Arca sighed, going over to where her brother was sitting in the workshop connected to their home. "It's probably a nest of brorrs again. Dad said he's going to go out in the fields tomorrow and set some traps. They've been causing lots of problems, lately."
"And will keep doing so unless we do something about it," replied a deep voice.
Arca turned, snapping to attention and saluting. Roy Lazime copied the gesture, grinning as he did so. "At ease, soldier," he said jokingly.
Arca returned the grin, then jerked a thumb at the computer console that her black-haired brother sat at. "Eric said the sensors are acting up again."
Both siblings held a great respect and love for their father. While others saw a rough-looking black-haired man with hard, sharp, no-nonsense green eyes and an air that only a trained killer could hold, they saw a loving man with kind eyes and experience as a mercenary that only benefitted the family. He had been a Mandalorian for about a decade, then he witnessed the rise of the Death Watch, led by Vizsla. He apologized to Jaster Mereel for leaving, but he felt he had to get out while he still could. Jaster fully understood, and gave the young soldier a parting gift in credits. The two remained on good terms, and Roy departed for Jaster's alleged homeworld, Concord Dawn. There, he met Tiniya, a beautiful woman with soft brown eyes and long, luxuriant brown hair. The two fell in love, and married after a year. They settled down on the family farm of the Fetts, which Jango Fett had given to Roy. A year later, Arca was born. She had her mother's eyes and hair, but opted for having shorter hair. It reached to her shoulder blades, while her mother's reached to the small of her back. Two years after, Eric came into the family. He was a cute, chubby little boy with his father's eyes and hair. Arca, being three, played with him a lot. Two more years passed, and Roy began training Arca how to defend herself. It was best to start early, he reasoned, rather than to never get around to it at all.
That was half a year before Tiniya died, the new baby with her. The stillborn boy was named Jango, a name both parents liked. He was named for Jango Fett, the leader of the Mandalorians at the time. The family mourned their deaths, then Roy managed to do what he had been taught to do. He moved on.
Years passed, and here they were, as happy as they could be without a mother. After Tiniya's death, Roy began training Arca and Eric in earnest. Arca understood why very well. Her father wanted them to be ready for life off the farm. "The galaxy is a rough place. You need to know how to fend for yourself before you go off into it," he once told them.
"Should we go out and fix it?" Eric asked, swiveling in his chair to look up at his father.
"Not tonight. We'll do it tomorrow, when we're laying the traps."
One of Roy's top rules was this: Don't be out of the house after dark. Arca and Eric never questioned the rule, though they didn't entirely know why he made that rule. For all they knew, it was to make sure they didn't get lost in the dark.
"Yes, sir," the two replied. Another one of Roy's rules was that you should just obey, and not question the rules. Naturally, they didn't.
"Next training session in ten." Roy turned to go, and Eric did the unthinkable. He questioned a rule.
"Dad? Why aren't we allowed to go outside after dark?"
Roy stiffened. "Eric!" gasped Arca.
Slowly, Roy turned. To their surprise, he didn't look stern or angry at all. Instead, he looked sad. "Kids," he began, "every person has the ability to make enemies. Sometimes you do it without meaning to. To be a Mandalorian also means having enemies, whether you like it or not. We have always had enemies, and always will. A Mandalorian can retire, but he will never stop being a Mandalorian. Do you understand?" They nodded, and he continued. "In my career as a Mandalorian, I made several enemies. One of which is now part of the Death Watch." At the mention of the enemy group, the two siblings shivered. Vizsla was dead, but the Death Watch, or what remained of it, had broken into sub-groups as higher-ranking Death Watchers, as they were sometimes called, struggled for power. The leadership of Vizsla had been an iron fist, and now that fist had melted. Each group held on to the name of Death Watch, but began putting names like Alpha or Galactic at the beginning.
The beginning of a smile softened his rough visage. "I seek only to protect you by enforcing this rule, kids. As for the breaking of the rule of no questioning rules, no punishment. Questions advance your knowledge. To understand why rules are in place, you must ask questions about them. So. That rule is officially terminated until further notice. In the meantime, I believe the ten minutes are almost up." He checked the wall chrono. "Gather in five. Be there no later."
Arca and Eric saluted, grinning. "Yes, sir!"
Roy returned the gesture, grinning back at them. "Dismissed."
|
If I'm a hyperdrive, I'm the Falcon's.
Pretty Pink Princess of Foo and Procrastination (and Clashing )
Go BUCKEYES!! |
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Iaana Morranne
Rebel Alliance Leader
Leia's Right Hand
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Joined: Jan 2007
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Posts: 201
Location: Somewhere in Ohio
Karma: 15 | | Re: The Mandalorian
« Reply #8 on Jul 15, 2008, 10:51pm » | |
—Chapter Eight—
—Concord Dawn—
—On the Lazime farm—
As patient as a father could be, Roy Lazime led his son and daughter - the only close family he had left - in hand-to-hand combat training. Part of his reasoning was that they needed to be able to take care of themselves. The other part was more complicated. Put simply . . . he was afraid.
As he had explained to Eric and Arca an hour before, he had made enemies. After the death of Tiniya and little Jango, he remembered that one enemy of his in particular was still alive. And, in all likelihood, wanting revenge for stranding him. Of course, Roy hadn't meant to strand the man. He had, in fact, wanted to kill him. Only a fool would willingly let a great enemy live to hunt you down. Well . . . actually, the Jedi weren't fools. But they could easily take care of themselves, what with their "Force" and all that. Roy had never really understood how the Jedi used the Force. He knew it was real, believed it was real, and had seen it in use. It was after an encounter with a Jedi that Roy decided to retire. It was the first time, really, he had opened his eyes to a better future, and the first time he had seen who and what he really was. Maybe he could turn around before it was too late . . .
And turn around he did. The only blood he spilled now was the blood of the brorrs and other farm pests. Instead of destroying things, he built them. A big difference from what he had done before.
His fear of the still-living enemy prompted him to take certain precautions and to establish strict rules. He was afraid that Arca and Eric would get in trouble if they were out after dark. What trouble, he didn't know.
"Hah!" Arca grinned triumphantly as she flipped her brother, Eric hitting the mat with a thud. She had always been the more adventurous of the two, but she was, at times, afraid to leave the house. Perhaps it was fear of her father's wrath that kept her from breaking at least one of the rules.
Maybe he was too strict. Eric, the ever curious one, revealed that he and his sister didn't understand some of the rules. He had expected that, but still wasn't fully ready for it.
He stepped forward. "My turn, Eric," he said with a smile as he helped his son up.
"Thank you," said Eric as he rubbed his sore bottom. He groaned. "I'd hate to be in a real fight with you, Arca."
"Sorry, bro'. Good thing there's pads, huh?" Arca couldn't help but grin. Eric never had taken the lessons with as much enthusiasm as she did. He was convinced they wouldn't run into much trouble, and aspired to run the farm someday. She, on the other hand, was looking forward to exploring the galaxy, along with coming home every now and then to visit. She knew that she would need to be able to defend herself when she set out. Especially with the Death Watch remnants . . .
"I'll say," Eric moaned as he stiffly made his way to a cushioned seat.
Arca watched her father get in position. She had faced him at least a couple times before, each time ending up on the floor in much the same way as Eric. She vowed to do her best, and to not let herself be intimidated by her father's size and by past experience. He was at least five or seven inches taller than her - a good six feet tall.
"Ready?" Roy waited until she nodded, then nodded back. "Begin."
The two circled, looking for an opportunity to strike. Roy went for it, and Arca batted aside his attack, meant to test her defenses.
At the side of the room, Eric watched with keen interest. His eyes followed their movements as they sparred. No twitch of the finger went unnoticed by him; he had always been very observant. Arca had a bit of trouble with that, and instead excelled in combat.
Something happened - Roy stumbled! Arca pressed her attack, and her leg swept under him before he could recover. Their father was suspended in midair for a moment, then he hit the mat with a very audible thud.
Arca was breathing heavily. She stared at Roy in disbelief. "I didn't . . ."
Roy, a bit stunned by the impact, stared at the ceiling. "You did."
Eric, forgetting his soreness, jumped up. "That was awesome!" he cheered. "You did it, Arca, you did it!"
Arca held out her hand to her father. "Are you okay?" she asked with concern. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
Roy laughed, accepting his daughter's help up. "I'm fine. And my dear Arca, that's the point of fighting! You try to hurt them to encourage them not to fight back. You can't help it if they're stupid."
"I've never beaten you before. I can't believe it . . ."
"Believe it, Arca," Eric cut in with a grin. "You've done it! You beat him!"
Arca reddened, a smile spreading across her lips. His words and the proud smiles of her family would stay with her always.
Roy positioned himself once more, grinning. "Let's make sure that wasn't a fluke."
****
A while later, Arca lay awake in her bed, staring at the ceiling. She still felt the thrill running through her from when she had beaten her dad in hand-to-hand combat four out of five times that night. She knew she still needed to work on it, but it was a great achievement for her; greater than she had ever had before. It was a big step for her toward leaving her home and traveling into the galaxy. How she would get a ship, she didn't know. She had the feeling that her father would have that taken care of.
Gradually, the buzzing in her brain came to a halt, and she slowly drifted off to sleep.
****
Nearly every day, Arca got up with the sun. She was adjusting her schedule in preparation of living in the rest of the galaxy. This morning was like every other, except that she had a request to make of her father.
She rolled out of bed and stretched, yawning. Her father was going to the fields to set the traps and fix the sensors, but that would take a couple days at the least. When she found him at the breakfast table, munching on a ration bar that he usually ate when he was in a hurry, she made her request.
Roy laughed. "Of course, my jewel. I'd be happy to let you help. Leave Eric a note, and make sure you're heading home by the time the sun starts to set." The last part was said sternly, and she readily agreed to his terms.
After leaving the note, the two set off in separate directions on their speeder bikes. Each went weaving through the fields, stopping to set up the occasional trap along the way. By the time Arca reached the first of the two main problem areas that she was checking out, the sun was high in the sky, and it was lunch time. She munched on the extra ration bar she brought along, glancing down the steep bank of the stream. This was the type of place brorrs liked to nest. The soft mud carried many of their tracks, but something was odd about them. She stared at them for a while, but, unable to place it, went back to her lunch. It was an hour past noon by the time she finished, and she hurried to find the holes the rodents lived in. Finding only one, and that one abandoned, she decided it was just a passing nest and that they were probably nesting in her father's area.
Since there were no current brorr nests, she set a few traps and got to work on the hidden sensors. For some reason, the rodents liked to relieve themselves on the sensors after sniffing them out with their extremely sensitive noses. Their urine seeped through the tiny cracks in the machines and they often shorted out, thus making themselves notorious as farm pests. As she worked, the sun sank, unnoticed by her, toward the horizon.
The last one confused her; it was as if a brorr had pried open the mechanism and chewed on the wires after it shorted out. She replaced each of them, mending only those she knew could be mended and salvaging the rest. Thus it was, when she returned to her speeder, her bag was as full as it had been when she set out to mend the blasted things.
As she was about to mount her bike, her eyes were drawn back to the paw prints in the mud. They were small, as the four-legged creatures with short tails were also small. Their fur ranged from white to black and light brown to dark brown. They could run surprisingly fast for their size, if they were in a hurry. And these had been.
Abruptly, it clicked. They had been running from something. But what? She didn't think there were predators on their farm.
Suddenly, her blood ran cold and her hair stood on end. A clear footprint was in the mud, still fresh.
Fear jolted through her, and she looked toward the west. Her fear doubled as she saw the sun was setting. "Never be out after dark," her father had instructed. And, before she left, he had also commanded her, "make sure you're heading home by the time the sun starts to set." If only she had paid attention! Now, alone - but perhaps not - as it was nearing twilight, Arca fully understood her father's rules. His rules, and his reasons for enforcing them.
Dry grass crunched behind her, and she whirled to face the sound. Her blaster found its place in her hand, and she pointed it in the direction of the noise. She saw nothing but the tall grain, and no further sound reached her ears as she backed toward her bike, so close and yet so far. Something pressed against her leg, and she whirled in that direction. In doing so, she tripped on the wire and fell to the ground, rolling down the steep embankment and landing in the water. She yelped as the cold liquid soaked her in an instant, and picking herself up, stared up at the sight that greeted her eyes.
****
"She should have been back by now," Eric fretted in worry. "She would've started home as soon as the sun started to set."
"Well, you know how your sister is with time," Roy replied. But he was worried too. It wasn't like Arca to stay out so late. She would've noticed the change in lighting and started home immediately. Wouldn't she? She had always had problems with observation, but this . . . Something was wrong. He just knew it.
He stared out the window at the deepening twilight as the last rays of sunlight - deceptively beautiful - shone over the land. A moment later, it disappeared altogether and the sky grew ever darker. A chill wind swept up from the north, blowing dust about like brorrs when they were migrating. Of course, the brorrs could well be the reason for her lateness; Arca never liked to leave a job unfinished. She was probably returning home right now. But if so, why didn't she call them, apologizing and telling them she was on her way home?
He stood. "I'm going to go look for her," he decided. "You stay in here, and don't leave the house."
"Yes, sir!" Eric readily agreed.
Grabbing a glowlamp and a blaster, Roy headed to the door. He opened it, stepped out, then grunted and fell to the ground, twitching a tiny bit from the stun blast. Eric heard, and rushed to the door to investigate and aid his father. He too fell to the ground and blacked out.
Two men stepped out of the darkness. "What're we s'posed t' do with ‘em?" one asked the other.
"Boss said to tie ‘em up. Ain't gonna make no trouble if they're restrained."
The first took a coil of thin but strong rope from his belt. To cut it, he grabbed his vibroknife. "Start tyin' the oldster. I'll get the boy."
The second only grunted, but got to work.
****
"Well, look here, boys," the leader smirked. "We got ourselves a girl! All alone, too."
Breathing heavily, Arca debated about shooting the man. Doing so would only anger his followers, and not doing so might mean something far worse for her.
The leader looked at her thoughtfully. "Know who I am, Kiddo?"
Arca only glared at him.
"I'll take that as a ‘No.' I see your father hasn't told you much about his enemies, has he?" In answer, Arca remained silent, so he continued. His men surrounded her on the banks and in the stream, so running was out of the question. "My name is Arvril Thord. Recognize the name, Arca Lazime?"
Finally, Arca shook her head. At the mention of her name, she paled. How did Thord know about her?
"Thought not. Your old man doesn't tell you or Eric much. Now come on, you're coming with us."
"In your dreams," she finally snarled. She hefted her blaster.
"And in reality," Thord replied smoothly with a confident smile. He nodded, and Arca cried out as she was hit from behind by a stun bolt. She would have preferred to black out, but she remained awake and alert as she willed her body to move. She crumpled to the ground, feeling like she had, that morning, made the worst mistake in her life.
She was picked up and carried to her speeder bike. There, her hands were tied behind her back and Thord got on behind her. While making sure she was secured, he surveyed the controls to see if they were the type he was familiar with. They were, and as his men got in some landspeeders they brought from over the large hill on the other side of the stream, he poured on the throttle. They sped off like a rocket from its launcher, and just as fast. While he was careful with her and made at least an effort at being a gentleman, he didn't seem to mind that her limp body took the brunt of the bowed stalks of grain.
Slowly, Arca regained the use of her arms. Her legs still felt like rubber, though, and her weapons had been taken from her. So, really, it wouldn't make much difference if she whacked Thord. Her hands were tied behind her back, so she couldn't steer. Also, she couldn't operate the foot pedals. The only thing she could do was wait.
And so she waited. Right up until they arrived at the farmhouse. She struggled as much as she could when she was seized again, but Thord's men held on tightly. They didn't want to risk Thord's wrath if she escaped. Arca heard them talking, and found out that the were the scum of the scum in her opinion - the First Galactic Death Watch, Thord called his little "organization." A rather creative title, Arca mused, but unoriginal and one that inspired disgust among their current victims.
"Where is he?" That question was from Thord as he walked up to the house. Two men stepped out, and one of them spoke quietly to his boss, along with a few hand motions, then the three stepped inside. Thord stepped back out a moment later and signaled to the others. Arca was then half dragged, half carried, into the house, then dropped next to her father and brother where they leaned against the wall.
Roy spared a concerned glance at her, then went back to glaring at Thord. "Why are you doing this?" he demanded.
"Lazime, I am only repaying a debt I owe you," the leader sneered. At first he seemed like he wanted to say something else, then he spun about to leave. "Gag them and bind their feet. Then find closets, empty them, and stick the prisoners in them. Keep them separated, and guard the closets. We'll finish this in the morning."
Rather roughly, the "Death Watchers" carried out his orders. Closets were emptied of cleaning supplies and the like, and the gagged and bound captives were deposited in each. The night she spent in that closet, helpless to do anything other than breath and to try and not let her limbs fall asleep, felt like the longest night in her life. When morning came, she had gotten only a little sleep, when she had become too tired to keep her eyes open any longer. The door opened, the rope that bound her feet was cut, and she was made to walk out of the closet, through the house, to the front porch. There, she waited tensely for something to happen. While she was at it, she did her best to observe to proceedings. Thord paced about the yard, right hand on his blaster. Every once in a while, he glanced her way, then at the door of the house. Finally, he walked up to one of his soldiers and growled something to him. Looking flustered - Probably new, she thought to herself - the soldier sprinted toward the house. He passed Arca and her guards with nary a glance and paused only long enough to let the door open.
Arca frowned. What was going on? A minute later, as her stomach was beginning to gurgle in hunger, Eric and Roy were pushed out, followed closely by a few guards. Thord looked satisfied, and made a show of checking the power in his blaster. Sticking it back in its holster, Thord walked over and stopped next to Arca. "Take those gags of them," he ordered. He removed Arca's himself. She, in turn, snarled at him. Thord started, but just barely. Then he laughed. "Someone's been cooped up in a cage for too long. Ah, don't worry, girl. You won't be back in there ever again." He smirked, reaching over to brush some hair from her face. "I can guarantee it."
Roy started forward, but was pulled back by the two soldiers guarding him. "You leave her alone!"
"And just who's going to stop me? You? You're as good as dead. You failed to protect your family, and you're going to die regretting it." Thord walked over and pointed a finger at him. "You're going to die regretting that you let me live."
"Trust me," Roy growled. "It was not my intent to leave you alive."
Thord clicked his tongue. "Such brave talk, from so desperate a man. You've been made weak, Lazime. Now I use your weakness against you." He took his blaster from his holster. "Say goodbye to your second-born, Lazime."
Roy's face turned ashen gray. "No, please! Don't kill him!"
"Too late." The blaster spoke, and Eric cried out.
"Eric!" Roy pulled against his captors and stared in horror at the boy as Eric crumpled to the ground. "No! No . . ."
"So touching. You can't save him, you know."
Tears appearing at the corners of his eyes, Roy glared at Thord and snarled. "Blast you, Thord, you murderer."
Calmly, Thord stepped over to the boy's prone body and nudged him with a foot. "I've been called worse." He whirled back on Roy, sending a fist to the Mandalorian's jaw. Roy staggered back, shaking his head. The Death Watchers released him, and stepped back to watch. As the soldiers guarding her were distracted, Arca seized the opportunity to rub the rope binding her hands against a rather sharp edge on the wall. Her father had been meaning to remove it, but it was fortunate that he had not gotten around to it. Strand by strand, the ropes began to sever.
At the brawl, Roy had somehow managed to put up a fight. He had caught a bare glimpse of Arca, and knew he had to give her some time, somehow.
Back in the old days, as he referred to his time with the Mandalorians, he had sometimes had to fight with his hands tied behind his back. Also, Jaster had him practice doing that, just in case there was a need. But, as much as he had practiced, two hands were better than no hands, and Thord was winning. Roy's spirits rose, though, as he saw Arca had succeeded in her attempt to cut her bonds, and was now edging to the door of the house. Unfortunately, he was also distracted by it. Thord, while not knowing what he had been distracted by, seized the opportunity to finish off his enemy. A quick left to Roy's jaw and a sweep of his legs downed the man. Roy hit the ground with a grunt, then tried to roll over and stand up. Thord was too quick for him, though. A kick to the guts sent him sprawling again, and Thord sneered down at his gasping opponent. "You've failed your son. You've failed your daughter. You've failed yourself. You are no Mandalorian."
Gritting his teeth against the pain, Roy glared up at his enemy. "You're wrong. I am a Mandalorian. I may have quit being a mercenary, but I will always be a Mandalorian. To be a Mandalorian isn't just about having a title, or being a soldier. The name of Mandalorian can't be taken away from anyone who has served under Mandalore. It is who they are. Nor will it matter if a woman wants to be a Mandalorian. If she is good enough, she will earn the name." Arca stared at her father, knowing the words were for her. He was saying that she could be a Mandalorian, even if she was doubted by others. But also that she couldn't decide if she had earned the name or not. Someone else had to.
Thord sighed and rolled his eyes. "You talk too much."
Roy ignored him, but met Arca's teary eyed gaze. He glanced at the door, then back at Arca.
Arca stared into her father's eyes. You haven't failed us, she mouthed, and Roy smiled. I love you, she continued; she dared not speak aloud.
"Goodbye, Lazime," Thord laughed. "And good riddance. Die, knowing that you cannot save your daughter." He pulled out his blaster, then shot Roy.
Arca yelped, and Thord glanced at her. His eyes widened in surprise.
With his last breath, Roy shouted, "Run Arca! I love you!" He gasped, his eyes widening. He was dead.
Time slowed - Arca stared for a moment, then dashed past the stunned soldiers and through the door to her house. As she did so, she heard Thord shout angrily, "You idiots! You let her go! After her, you fools!"
She ran through the halls, searching for a place to hide. A twittering reached her ears, and she followed the sound. She became excited. Could it be?
She stopped at a closet, then listened. From behind her came the noise of running feet as the Death Watchers searched for her. In front of her, coming from inside the closet, she heard the twittering again. It was unintelligible, muffled as it was. As she opened the door, the noise abruptly halted. As soon as she stepped inside and the door closed behind her, the sound came again. "Warbler!" Arca gasped in relief, smiling in spite of what had just happened. She could just barely make out the dim outline of the orange and white astromech unit from the slim ray of light that protruded underneath the door to the closet. Warbler whistled quietly, and activated something. A half-foot-thick section of the floor slid aside, revealing a metal platform. While confused, Arca set the droid on it as instructed and stepped down next to him. Again the droid activated something, and the four-foot-square platform began to descend through a shaft of the same shape and size. When they were down far enough, the section of the floor slid shut silently. Arca was grateful for the holes in the platform, because they would probably otherwise either suffocate or the air pressure would drop significantly and there would be a fierce wind as soon as they reached the bottom. Her father had probably designed this and built it after he bought the farm. Why he had done so was now very clear to Arca. He was preparing for the worst case scenario. Namely, an attack on the farm.
When they reached the bottom, Arca glanced up, then down at the droid. In front of them lay a dark tunnel, and the droid turned his light on. He started forward, and Arca followed nervously. She didn't know what lay ahead through the tunnel, but she knew for a fact that, whatever it was, it was better than what lay above her head.
Sheer discipline was the only thing that kept her from breaking down and sobbing. Well, discipline and Warbler's comforting whistles. She had owned the droid ever since she was seventeen, when her father had given him to her for her birthday. Apparently, he had been down here quite a few times, for he guided her quite confidently past a few branch-offs. Within a few minutes, they arrived in a large room. The sight that greeted her eyes made her stop in her tracks and stare. "Wow," she whispered.
|
If I'm a hyperdrive, I'm the Falcon's.
Pretty Pink Princess of Foo and Procrastination (and Clashing )
Go BUCKEYES!! |
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Iaana Morranne
Rebel Alliance Leader
Leia's Right Hand
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Karma: 15 | | Re: The Mandalorian
« Reply #9 on Jul 16, 2008, 10:54pm » | |
—Chapter Nine—
—Concord Dawn—
—Underground, beneath the Lazime farm—
Arca stared at the middle of the large room. It was now evident that this was a hangar bay of some sort, for a yacht rested in the center of it. The walls of the room extended dozens of feet upward, ending in pitch-black doors of some sort. It appeared that was the only exit to the place, excluding the tunnel, and the only way out was in the ship.
Warbler was way ahead of her. He had already rolled over to the ship and opened the egress hatch. He rotated his dome to look at her, then urged her to follow him. She complied readily, knowing it was only a matter of time before Thord ordered an all-out search for her, including a sensor sweep of the farm. When he did that, he was sure to find her.
Inside the ship, after the hatch was closed, the two hurried down a corridor lined with doors. They took a right turn, then a left. At the end of the corridor was a single sliding door, which led to the cockpit.
Arca halted abruptly. "I can't fly this ship!" she realized. "Warbler, I can't do it. You're going to have to teach me."
The droid let out a flurry of whistles, swiveling his dome back and forth.
"I think I know better than you that there's no time, you rust bucket. Just tell me how to fly the thing."
Warbler let out an astromech sigh.
"Don't give me that. Just tell me how to fly the blasted ship and open those doors! I've learned how to fly ships in the simulator, but Dad never taught me how to fly a yacht. Sure, the controls are the same, but I'm not used to the bulk."
If the droid could shrug, he would have. Instead, he rolled over to a combined station for navigation and communications. Arca sat in the pilot's seat, feeling like a complete stranger there. She was told by her droid how to operate the controls, how to compensate for the largeness of the ship, and was instructed to engage all necessary systems.
As per instructions, she engaged the repulsors and brought the ship to a hover ten meters from the ground. Then she waited on the edge of her seat for Warbler to open the doors. When he did, they rolled open at an agonizingly slow pace. Dirt and grain showered down upon them. The hangar was right under the fields! The girl was glad she had put the shields on at one hundred percent when gravel came with it. She didn't know how much damage the rocks could do to the hull of this ship, but she wasn't going to take many chances. She didn't want to have escaped Arvril Thord and his goons only to die in space when an engine failure or hull breach occurred.
Finally, with a thud that sent a final torrent of rock, dirt, and grain pouring down, the gigantic doors lay fully open, and the hangar was flooded with light as the sun crept upwards in the sky. Tentatively at first, then with increasing confidence, Arca moved the yacht toward the open sky. Funny how it could be such a beautiful day when a storm was raging on the ground.
Arca didn't try to stop the tears that found their way out of her eyes as she looked one last time at her home. She hoped she could come back some day. But for now, this was farewell. "Bye, Dad, Eric, Mom, and Little J," she whispered, unconsciously reaching out as if to touch them. "I'll be back. I'll make you proud."
The sight of three ships rising into the air set her brain back in motion as she wiped away the tears, and then she was off.
Arca marveled at the speed and power of this ship. Her dad had thought of everything, including every single modification and upgrade to the yacht he could think of. The girl loved the ease with which the ship flew, and the smoothness of the ride. Quite suddenly, however, the ride wasn't so smooth as two laser blasts struck the shields and rocked the yacht. "Daydreaming time's over," Arca told herself. "Warbler! What kind of weapons does this thing have?"
Warbler explained that there were five gun ports on each side of the yacht, a gun port in the stern, and concussion missiles up front, accompanied by two powerful laser cannons. "In other words," Arca translated for him, "to fight these guys, I would need to turn this thing around." Right, Warbler answered. Then he gave a little laugh and said that she could run, instead. "Good idea, droid," the girl replied. "As soon as possible, plot a course to . . ." Arca hesitated. Where would they go? She had to make a living, somehow, so how about . . . "Warbler, plot a course for Nar Shaddaa."
Warbler's answer was a shrill cascade of unintelligible beeping and warbles. When Arca was finally able to understand him, she laughed at his belief in her insanity. "Don't blow a circuit, Li'l Fella. I know what I'm doing. Someone there might have known Dad." Her voice choked up. Her father, the man who raised her from childhood, and the man who had taught her everything she knew. "But I won't always be here," he had once told her, though he couldn't have known how early his death would come. "You'll have to learn some things on your own. And there are things one can only learn by experience. You never stop learning. Even the greatest Jedi Masters constantly learn. Even one called Master Yoda, who is more than eight hundred and seventy years of age." He had laughed, then. That warm, comforting laugh she so loved to hear. "You probably won't live to be even an eighth of the age he is, so don't even hope to gain as much knowledge and wisdom as him! But do strive to do so, that you may acquire at least a fraction of it. I should be terribly disappointed if you became lax in your quest for knowledge, wisdom, and skill."
Arca shook her head. In hyperspace, she would have time to reflect on such things. Now, she had to get to that point. "Comply, please," she requested. "Before those ships catch up."
Giving one last, doubtful chirp, he began to comply, though he explained it would go along faster if they were out of the gravity well.
Arca sighed. "I am quite aware of that. Carry on."
The ship flew wonderfully. Its shields were stronger than Arca had first expected, and within minutes, they were away.
****
—Hyperspace—
Warbler watched as Arca sat hunched forward in the pilot's seat, a still, silent statue. He could tell she was holding back the tears, trying not to give in to the urge.
The droid beeped comfortingly at her, then added a soft warble that would have seemed like an afterthought to anyone who didn't know what he was saying.
Whatever he did say, it set the girl off. With a pound of a fist on the console in front of her, she began sobbing like she never had before. When her mother died, she had only been a small child, so she hadn't spent long years with Tiniya Uryann Lazime like she had with her father. She had loved her mother very much, and had been hit hard by her death, five-and-a-half years of age that she was. It only served to reason, then, that her father and brother's deaths hit her even harder.
She knew she looked a mess. Ordinarily, she would do her best to fix her appearance, but now she didn't care.
"Oh, Warbler," she sobbed. "How will I go on without them?"
Warbler's answer was short and to the point. Roy Lazime had learned to go on, and he had. She had learned to go on after her mother's death because she had family still. Now, he pointed out, she still had him.
Arca wiped her tear-stained cheeks. "You're right, you little bugger," she said, trying a smile. It lasted three seconds, and then it melted away into tears. Still, it was progress. "But that doesn't change the fact that Dad and Eric are dead, and that I miss them very much." She sighed, looking out at the mottled sky of hyperspace. "It'll be a long road," she said softly, "til I can bring justice upon that Death Watch scum."
Warbler whistled a question.
"How? Well, I'm going to have to train. Get a job, work my way up to Thord's level. To do that, I think I'll have to get a job with the Hutts. Smuggler, maybe. Pays relatively well, I would think. Dad said something about that once."
Warbler's reply was short, blunt, and disgusted. "I know, Warbler," Arca said. "I don't like the idea of working for Hutts, either, but for now it's my only option. I don't know yet how I'm going to do it, but I'll figure something out." He beeped again. "No, I don't think I'll like Hutts, either. Dad said they stink worse than a compost pile, and they resemble huge, slimy slugs. Oh, and he'll take a percentage of my earnings until I prove myself better."
Warbler's opinion of that was also justifiably degrading. Arca laughed, but found that she felt very tired. Small wonder, considering that she hadn't slept the night before. Standing, she rubbed the back of her neck in the habit she had when she was feeling sleepy. "I'm going to get some shuteye," she told the droid. Warbler beeped, then rolled on ahead of her. She followed him to the door of some room, then he said goodnight and trundled off. She watched him go, then stepped through the door as it opened and into the room beyond.
It had a simple layout, with a dresser against the far wall, accompanied by other sorts of furniture. There was a twin-sized bed in an alcove to the left of the door, and another dresser to the right. A door stood to the left of that dresser, leading to a simple refresher station, complete with a shower. The bed was made with white sheets, topped with a comforter in a blue and black color scheme. There was a mirror on top of the dresser on the middle wall, and as the lights came on, Arca saw that she needed a shower. There was a robovalet built in, so she tossed her clothes through the hatch before she stepped into the shower to clean herself. After a quick lather and rinse, she stepped out into her new room, feeling much better. Her clothes were clean a minute later, and as she dressed, she decided she would take a look in the dressers after she woke up.
She was asleep before her head even hit the pillow.
****
Arca woke up quite a few hours later, feeling more alert now. She was a little disoriented at first, waking up in a strange new bed, but her brain quickly caught up with her body, and she remembered everything. This time, however, she was able to keep her emotions in check as she struggled to push the memories toward the back of her mind. Succeeding - mostly - she found her gaze resting on the dresser across from the bed. First things first, she thought, rising. Stepping into the corridor, she went in search of food. "Warbler?" she called, deciding she should ask him for a ship's schematic after she ate. "Warbler, where are you?" A moment of silence ensued, then there came an answering twitter. Arca followed the sound and soon found herself in the ship's galley. Her droid was hooked up to a power outlet off to the side, sounding very happy as he whistled softly to himself. When he was aware that his owner was present, he rotated his dome to look at her and beeped a short, slightly humorous question.
"Ten hours isn't that long when you've gone without sleep," Arca answered with a smile. "Hey, I used to sleep twelve hours, back before I started helping on the farm." She searched for a source of nourishment, her stomach growling at her. "Say, where's the food around here?"
Warbler directed her to a food preparation unit. After she ate, Arca went back to her new room. Warbler offered to accompany her, but she shook her head. "Not now, but maybe later." Now she stood just inside her room with the door closed behind her. She stared at the dresser across from the door for a while, then approached it. Curiously, the top drawer contained a vast array of small weapons, of which Arca could only begin to guess the use. The second drawer held two BlasTech pistols and two standard Mandalorian-issue Westars. Next to the blaster pistols was a blaster rifle which her father had once used but had been replaced, though still in prime condition. She closed that drawer, knowing the weapons would come in handy.
The contents of the next drawer took her breath away.
"It can't be . . ." she breathed. "Oh, Dad. Oh, Dad . . ."
Carefully, she picked up her father's Mandalorian helmet and just looked at it, her tears flowing anew. "Thank you,"she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut and digging up a picture of her family from her memory. "I'll make you proud."
The sobs came hard and strong again, and she had to put the helmet down to cover her face and catch the tears. Comforting whistles came from behind her, and she turned to face her friend. "Oh, Warbler." She wiped away her tears, hoping forty-eight standard hours or so would be enough to compose herself to the state where she could talk with her father's associates without breaking down like this. Brushing her fingertips along the jetpack also in the drawer, she smiled sadly. "He's not really gone, you know. Not in my mind. I keep expecting to see him walk through the door, ready to give me a hug. Then my brain tells me that he's not ever coming back, and I go into denial."
He beeped again. Open the next drawer.
Arca obeyed, and found herself looking at the rest of her father's armor. "By the Force . . ." she whispered. She began to undress, attempting a smile. "Might as well try it on, I suppose."
|
If I'm a hyperdrive, I'm the Falcon's.
Pretty Pink Princess of Foo and Procrastination (and Clashing )
Go BUCKEYES!! |
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Iaana Morranne
Rebel Alliance Leader
Leia's Right Hand
Global Moderator
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Also RPing as Wedge Antilles and Boba Fett
Joined: Jan 2007
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Karma: 15 | | Re: The Mandalorian
« Reply #10 on Jul 17, 2008, 2:13pm » | |
—Chapter Ten—
—Nar Shaddaa—
—Two days later—
"Well, because I'd rather not wear Dad's - my - armor around until after I earn it somewhat," Arca answered. Warbler had just asked why she was wearing her old clothes again, with the addition of a leather vest of some sort and a holster, blaster tucked safely inside. "I'll have my comlink with me, don't worry. And I can take care of myself." She listened to his twittering reply and laughed. "Was that sarcasm, Li'l Fella? I'll be careful. Now what was the name again?" He answered, she nodded. "Right. Okay."
Arca took a deep breath as she touched the hatch controls, exhaling as she stepped outside onto the metal landing platform her ship was resting upon. The vast network of walkways stretched far beneath her feet, encircling the moon in a complex web that ensnared buildings in its metal strands. It took her a few minutes to locate the correct path that led to the cantina she wanted, but she succeeded in the end. Stepping inside, she received calculating glances from most everyone. Some of the males, human or not, let their gaze linger on her figure for a while longer, looking away only when she reached the bar. "Hi," she said to the barman. "I'm looking for Jhon Lovek."
The barman studied her for a moment, then nodded to a table occupied by one human male in his late forties. Arca slid the bartender a couple credits, then approached the older man. "Mr. Lovek?" she asked upon arrival. He looked up at her through slightly narrowed eyes. "That's me," he confirmed. "Got a bounty for me or something?"
"No, sir. No job." Arca indicated the seat across from him. "May I sit with you for a minute or so?"
Jhon Lovek shrugged. "Go ahead. So, if you're not looking to hire me, what do you want?"
"Information." Arca slid a holograph toward the other. "I can pay you, price to be decided if you wish. Do you know this man?"
Jhon stared at the holograph, then finally nodded. "Yeah. Roy Lazime and I fought alongside each other years back. I was in his unit as a Mandalorian soldier. He a relation of yours?"
Arca hesitated, then nodded. "He was my father."
"Aha! Thought there was a resemblance. In this case, then, info's free of charge. Wait . . ." Jhon's eyes narrowed again. "You said was."
She closed her own eyes for a moment, willing herself to remain focused and composed as she felt once more the pang of sadness. "He and my brother were murdered just three days ago by the group called the First Galactic Death Watch. Arvril Thord pulled the trigger."
"Oh." Jhon pushed the holograph back toward Arca, smiling sadly. "He was a good friend. I'm sorry for your loss, Ms. Lazime."
"Arca," said the woman. "My name is Arca. And thanks, sir. It means a lot, really. Look, I don't mean to be a bother, but I need some advice."
"What sort of advice?"
"The career sort. I need some sort of income."
"That you do. How ‘bout bounty hunting, like me?"
"No, thanks. There's too big a chance I'll end up hurting innocents. And I'd have no way of telling if the bounty was for an innocent person or not."
"Yeah, that's the downside. You got a ship?"
Arca nodded. "Yes. Why?"
"You could go for smuggling. But something tells me you were already leaning in that direction." When she nodded again, he grinned. "Well, then! What do you want advice for? If you want to do it, do it. Don't let me stop you."
"I need to know the best way to get hired, and who to work for." Arca grinned sheepishly. "Farm girl like me wouldn't know about that, hmm?"
"Now, you got a point, there." Jhon leaned back in his seat and studied her. "First off, wear some clothes that look more professional."
"I'm not a professional, though."
"Maybe not, but you have to look more no-nonsense than you do now. Right now, you couldn't look more green if you tried. Also, find a different hairstyle. Makes sense, too, if you wish to avoid being identified by any of the Death Watch."
"Touche. What else?"
"Got armor? More weapons?"
"Yeah. Dad had put them on the ship for me. I only just found out a couple days ago. I've figured out how to work most of the stuff, though."
"Good. But don't use them until it's time to be anonymous or something. Keep them for a surprise. The basic primary weapons of any soldier is a blaster, their appendages, and/or a blade of some sort. The Jedi use lightsabers, and can use their appendages. They've also got the Force. Common soldiers usually carry a blaster rifle, and perhaps a vibroblade of some sort, and they know hand-to-hand combat - usually. Now, you're no Jedi, so I suggest you follow the soldier's example for the everyday you." He drummed his fingers a couple times on the tabletop, nodding to himself. "I'll see if I can set up a meeting for today or tomorrow with Jabba the Hutt. Any more questions?"
"Yeah. How are you going to contact me?"
Jhon wrote something down on a piece of flimsiplast and slid it toward her. "You'll call me in twelve hours. Stay in your ship until I come get you for the meeting."
"Bounty on my head?"
"Thirty-five thousand. You must have really ticked the guy off."
"I got away from him. Pretty sure that was all that was needed."
"You're probably the only one who has since he came to power. All right, off you go."
"Thanks, Mr. Lovek."
"Hey, if I'm to call you Arca, you call me Jhon."
"Yes, sir. Bye."
Jhon waved farewell, then drained his glass. Only when Arca had been outside the cantina for ten seconds did he stand and follow, paying his tab as he went. He shadowed her all the way to her yacht. After waiting til she was inside, he left, taking his comlink from a pocket. He input a frequency, then waited until the man on the other end acknowledged. "Hey, it's me," he said, glancing around casually. "You'll never believe who I just ran into."
"Try me."
"You remember Roy Lazime?"
"Of course I do. How's he doing? What's he doing on Nar Shaddaa?"
"Second, he's not. First, he's dead. I just saw his oldest kid. His daughter, Arca."
The other was silent for a moment. Then, "How did he die?"
"Arca said that Arvril Thord murdered him and her brother three days ago. I just followed her back to her ship to make sure she stayed safe. I'm going to see if I can set her up a meeting with Jabba soon Was hoping you could be there."
"Think they'll try something?"
"Yeah, I think he'll try something. This is Thord we're talking about."
"You sound a bit frantic, Lovek. Did she say what happened on Concord Dawn?"
"She said Thord fired the blaster that killed her brother and father, and the reason she's got a thirty-five thousand credit bounty on her head is because she got away from Thord." Jhon frowned at himself. Was he really so worried about the kid that he sounded frantic? He only just met her.
But she's Roy's kid. You owe Roy this much, making sure she stays safe until you know she's ready. He did the same for you, and for Fett when he was still a kid. Guess that's why Fett gave Roy his family farm when Roy left. Roy needed a place to live and make a living, and Fett had no use for the farm, and no desire to return to it.
"We'll have to find out exactly what happened. You'll be the one to ask her, however. My employer needs me somewhere else in a couple of days. I'll be at Jabba's, but I won't talk to her. I'll stay out of sight."
"You're probably her hero, if I know Roy. He'll have told her all about you."
"Precisely. She has other things to think about. Namely, survival. Her knowledge of my presence would only serve as a distraction."
"Okay, but if she asks, I'm not lying to her. I'll see if I can avoid the question, but if she doesn't give up, I'll tell her the truth."
"Fair. Fett out."
With a sigh, Jhon switched off his comlink and set about arranging that meeting.
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Pretty Pink Princess of Foo and Procrastination (and Clashing )
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Iaana Morranne
Rebel Alliance Leader
Leia's Right Hand
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member is offline
Also RPing as Wedge Antilles and Boba Fett
Joined: Jan 2007
Gender: Female
Posts: 201
Location: Somewhere in Ohio
Karma: 15 | | Re: The Mandalorian
« Reply #11 on Sept 27, 2008, 12:18am » | |
—Chapter Eleven—
—Nar Shaddaa—
—The Mandalorian’s Jewel—
—Twelve hours later—
“I can’t. He told me explicitly to stay in the ship until he comes to get me. Speaking of which, it’s time to call him.”
Warbler’s answering whistle was so sharp, Arca’s ears rang even after he stopped. “Ouch! Watch that frequency. Look, I know what I’m doing. You yourself said that Jhon was a Mandalorian.”
“A name isn’t everything. Just because you’re a Mandalorian, that doesn’t mean you’re honorable or trustworthy.”
“You also said he was Dad’s friend.”
“Loyalties can change real fast. And he’s a bounty hunter, Arca. They’re in it for the money.”
“Maybe so, but Jhon is trustworthy. I know it.”
“How do you know? You only talked to him for a few minutes.”
“Intuition, if you will. I may not have the Force, but I can tell.” Warbler answered her with silence, then she sighed. “Okay, so you may be right. Now can I call him?”
Warbler hesitated, then whistled an affirmative. Arca smiled at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll be very careful. He did follow me to the spaceport, after all.”
The droid nearly shrieked. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you that,” she laughed, pulling her comlink out of her pocket. “Relax. I’ve got a plan.”
Warbler moaned.
****
“Lovek, here.”
“This is Arca.”
“Oh. Hey, kid. Meeting’s set up for in an hour. I’ll come get you now, ‘cause we’ll need the extra time to get there. Where’s your ship?”
“Through the door right after the green shampoo sign. I forget what number our docking bay is, and you said not to go outside the ship . . .”
“Don’t bother. I’ll find it. See you soon.” Jhon signed off and entered the spaceport, turning left at an intersection. It was only as he was opening the door to Arca’s docking bay that he realized his mistake.
She was standing there, arms crossed, hair tied behind her head in a ponytail, wearing a look he knew so well from when he worked with Roy. “Funny thing is,” she said, her voice tinged with amusement, “there were a couple green shampoo signs in the other direction, too. And I didn’t say what shade of green. Now, how could you have known where my ship was?”
Jhon closed his eyes and groaned. “Oi. You’re good. No one’s ever done that to me before.”
“I won’t tell anyone. Now, mind explaining why you followed me earlier?”
“To make sure you got back safely.”
Arca studied him for a long moment, then, convinced, she nodded. “All right. How are we getting there?”
“We’re walking. Then riding.” Jhon looked her over. Instead of looking like the farm kid of twelve hours before, she now looked like a pilot, wearing very dark blue pants and a black, high-necked T-shirt. A jacket the same shade as her pants was zipped up most of the way, allowing just a little of the T-shirt to show. She actually did look professional.
“You lead, I’ll follow.” She waved a hand toward the door leading back to the main road. Nimble fingers plucked her comlink from one of her pockets and held it up. “Warbler, we’re heading out now. I’ll check in, in half an hour. I’ll be back.”
Jhon didn’t hear the droid’s answering whistle, but she smiled and said goodbye, tucking the comlink away once more. “He’s so much like a nanny, sometimes,” she commented. “So, shall we go?”
****
The two entered the hideout of Jabba the Hutt with five minutes to spare. As they waited, Jhon smiled at her. “Since you’re so good at making me forget some things, I was thinking . . . Maybe I should let you do most of the talking. It is you, after all, who is looking for the job.”
Arca felt a wave of half-panic wash over her. “What-? But-”
“And don’t let ‘im know you’re scared, either. Come on, kid. You have to do it sometime. Why not now?”
“I don’t know much about Hutts. And Dad told me-”
Jhon’s voice turned sharp for a moment. “Your father is dead, Arca. You have to learn to make decisions for yourself. Consider this a crash course. You can’t have your droid checking in on you every hour, okay?”
Unsure of herself, Arca fell silent. After another minute had passed, she spoke up again, sounding once more like she was in control of herself. “Any pointers?”
“You speak Huttese?”
“Dad taught me.”
“Good. Make sure you call him honorific titles like, ‘Your Excellency.’ Don’t show fear, watch what you say, and, above all, remain calm. If he makes a remark you don’t like, don’t react. You can talk in Basic, but yeah, it’s a good idea to know the language. That way you don’t have to rely on a translator droid. Understand?”
“Yes.” Arca nodded. “Where are you going to be?”
“Off to the side, watching. I’ll introduce you, but then I’ll step away. Now, nothing should go wrong, but if something does, like a bounty hunter attacks you, I’ll step in to help if you need it. Okay?”
Arca took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Okay.”
“Good girl. Here comes the majordomo. Ready for this?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Not much of one.”
“Then I’m ready. Lead on, oh Jhon.”
The throne room was rather crowded on the edges. Arca’s sense of being watched increased a hundred-fold as they entered, and she was very aware that she had entered into an evil place. One thing’s for sure, she mused. I won’t want to work for this slug too long.
“Greetings, Your Excellency,” Jhon called out as the two humans stopped ten feet away from the dais.
<Lovek,> the Hutt rumbled. <Is this the one you spoke of?>
“It is, Jabba.”
<Can she speak for herself?>
“She can, sir.” Jhon turned to Arca. “Your turn, kid,” he whispered. “I’ll be at the sidelines.”
He walked away, stepping into the shadows. “I’m feeling rather nervous,” he admitted to the armored figure there. Jango Fett glanced at him. “She’ll be all right. If she can cause you to slip up like you did at the spaceport, she’s bound to be good.”
Arca, meanwhile, was handling herself rather well. She felt a bit exposed without her blasters, which she had handed over to a droid at the entrance to the throne room. However, she knew she could defend herself, as long as it was in hand-to-hand combat. She was answering questions as they were asked of her, like what sort of job she was wanting. Then the questions began to get more detailed and curious.
<What sort of ship to you pilot?> the Hutt asked casually. Arca hesitated only a fraction of a second. “A relatively small yacht,” she told him.
The Hutt frowned in thought. <What was your name again?>
Arca hesitated. Hutts didn’t forget nearly so easily. Surely he remembered her name. Something’s wrong. “Arca Lazime,” she answered slowly, her eyes narrowed.
In the shadows, Jhon tensed. “Something’s going on,” he whispered. “Did anyone talk to Jabba before we came in?”
Fett seemed to hesitate. “Yes, several.” Almost as an afterthought, he asked, “Is she ready to fight?”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“Probably. She seems to have an inkling that something’s wrong, too. Why?”
Fett told him.
“They dare to come here with you on the moon?”
“They don’t know I’m here, and they think we don’t know they’re here. And no, I’m not going to deal with him. He’s for the kid to deal with.”
“What if she can’t handle him?”
Fett paused. “Then one - or both - of us will step in to help her. Don’t worry, Lovek. I won’t let her die.”
Unaware of this conversation, Arca was surreptitiously scanning the shadows by the dais. <Can you fight well?> the Hutt asked, setting off alarm bells in her mind. “It depends,” she ventured.
<On what?>
“On who’s judging me.”
The Hutt smiled unpleasantly. <How convenient that I have the perfect test.>
Arca forced herself to relax while remaining on the alert. Where will it come from?
Her unspoken question was answered from behind. She turned with more than enough time to spare, blocking the blow more easily than her attacker meant her to. “Well, well,” she taunted softly. Hatred bubbled up within her, but she forced it down. Remain calm, she reminded herself. “The little crony’s come to play.”
The comment angered her attacker. He charged again, a knife in hand, but she dodged it. As she fought, she forgot where she was, that she was surrounded by an audience of less-than-respectable people. It was just her and this Death Watcher.
He went for her again, but she stood her ground this time. Once or twice he landed a blow with his fist, foot, or knee, but two out of three times, it was Arca who had scored a hit. Suddenly, she was on her back, the breath knocked out of her. Her attacker looked down at her, the knife raised. Even as the knife sped downward, her mind flashed back a few days, to when she sat in the dark, held prisoner in a closet in her own home. This same guard was telling his partner how he and one of the others had stunned Roy and Eric so easily . . .
The surge of anger that she felt lent her strength and speed as she knocked the blade aside. The knife went flying, and suddenly it was the Death Watch soldier who was on the floor. Arca had her own knife in her hand, and she spared a glance at Jhon, who had covered half of the distance to her in the instant it took Arca to switch positions with her attacker. “I’m okay,” she told him. “I can handle this.”
She turned her attention back to her attacker, who was looking rather scared. “What’s your name?”
The man stared at her in surprise. “S- Silas,” he stammered.
“Well, Silas,” she told him softly, “it’s your lucky day. I’m not going to kill you.”
He looked confused. “You’re not?”
“No. I need you to do something for me.”
Silas looked wary. “What’s that?”
“Take a message to Arvril Thord. Tell him I said that if he wants to kill me, he’s to have the guts to do it himself. Also, the next Death Watcher I see, dies. Got that?”
He nodded quickly.
“Go. And leave the knife where it is. Wouldn’t have it said that the only way you could kill a girl was to stab her in the back, would you?”
Silas shook his head, then practically fled from the room.
Arca stowed her knife away. “Well?”
The Hutt was impressed. <You keep twenty-five percent of the income from each shipment.>
“No.”
Jabba stared at her. The audacity! <No?>
Jhon stepped to her side. “Do you have a death wish?” he hissed.
“If I had a death wish, I would’ve stayed on the farm,” she whispered back. Turning once more to the Hutt, she nodded. “That’s what I said. Twenty-five is too cheap. I could get more from someone else, I’m sure.”
<Forty percent, then,> he grunted.
“Still no. Sixty-five.”
He stared at her again, surprised. When he didn’t say anything, she shrugged. “I suppose I could take my services to one of the other Hutts. I’m sure they’d be happy to pay my requested price.”
She could’ve sworn she could hear the gears grinding in his brain as he thought. Finally, he grumbled, <Sixty percent. Not a credit more.>
Reasonable price. I knew I wouldn’t get any higher than that, anyway. “Very well. Sixty it is.”
Relieved, Jhon stepped back into the shadows. “She is good,” he whispered in near disbelief. Fett nodded. “Woe to those who underestimate her.”
Jhon nodded back. “Amen, Fett. Amen. So what now?”
“Take her back to her ship. I’ll be leaving after this. Keep her safe. I’ll stay in touch when I can. If she wants to have a look around the moon, she can. Use your judgement and common sense.” Fett turned to go, then he hesitated. “And let her know that she’s a true Mandalorian.”
Jhon watched him go, then turned back to Arca to see that she had finished her business deal with the Hutt, and to hear Jabba announcing that Arca was now under his protection. “Ready to go, kid?” he asked her, stepping to her side. She looked at him, smiling. “Yeah,” she said, finally relaxing. Her words held a double meaning. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
****
Later, Arca stared into the mirror. On the way back, they had discussed her first job, which was picking up a shipment and dropping it off on Nar Shaddaa. She would be leaving in a few days, so she had a chance to look around the moon until then. Jhon hadn’t told a word yet of what Fett had said in parting, so she didn’t know all of what she had accomplished in that one meeting with the Hutt.
A pair of hair clippers lay before her on the sink counter, and she glanced down at them. Her old life was gone, blown away like dust in the wind. She was no longer a farm girl, though that was still an essential part of who she was. She was a smuggler now. And while this was not her first choice of what she might have wanted to be, it was the best choice in her knowledge. But once she began, there was no turning back.
No turning back.
Slowly, deliberately, she picked up the hair clippers and began to cut.
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If I'm a hyperdrive, I'm the Falcon's.
Pretty Pink Princess of Foo and Procrastination (and Clashing )
Go BUCKEYES!! |
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