#koben tarani

[scrumpledorph-writes]

Koben's First Date (She's 35)

Arrived at the agreed upon meeting point at 18:55 hours: five minutes to perform a reconnaissance before the date begins. Three suns casting a long set of shadows and a dangerous ambient temperature for anything not covered by them. Single story bar, wrought out of sun baked clay, outer walls a solid imperial meter thick. Would diffuse a whole platoon of blaster rifle fire.

Still a dingy rathole at the edge of town, but it’s what my date picked out. I’ve only been staying here two weeks so it’s not like I know anywhere nicer. I’ve done breach and clears on scummier places, so just coming here to relax should be easy!

Wearing my best suit of armor, picked out my most flattering helmet, and polished the outfit well enough to blind anyone who points a glowrod at me. I look good, I feel good: I can do this. Just walk through that front door and-

There’s half a dozen blaster pistols pointed at me. ‘What the hell’s a trooper doing here?!’ one of them’s asking. I figured the purple stripes and the mismatched helmet would be a flagrant enough violation of Imperial Dress Armor Maintenance Protocol to get the point across that I’m no longer officially Empire affiliated, but some people just don’t read their manuals I suppose.

My hands are by my side, I’m playing it cool. Don’t kill six people before sitting down, that’s coming on too strong.

‘Oh, uhh, don’t mind me! Just here on a date, was gonna sit down in that empty booth and-’

A blaster pistol pokes me in the side as I walk by. Killing one or two of these guys will probably get the point across, that’s a justifiable use of force in a naval court. I take a survey of the room: angles, positions, battery grades. Their guns are barely stronger than stunners, I could take at least three solid hits before the heat sinks start to fail – it’d ruin the polish though.

Okay just break this guy’s arm and use him as a shield to get the point across. Here. We.

‘Hey Buckethead, you got credits?’ The bartender! He seems amenable; this place is a hole in the wall so losing these scumbags would probably put him out of business. Turn to look at him, nod slowly, reach for my credit pouch even more so.

‘Good. You thirsty?’ Nod again. I scheduled this date to align precisely with my dietary schedule, so I plan to have one and a half glasses of water and a nutritionally complete meal. Ample spending for a single patron.

‘Then whoever shoots you pays your tab.’ The blasters recede back into cloaks and shoddy holsters. Sit down at the booth without further incident, good progress so far. Don’t remember any of my old squad-mates mentioning shootouts in their date stories. Face the door so I can keep an eye out for her.

She’s a few minutes late. Within acceptable standard deviation, not worth a reprimand. Even if it was I’d let it slide, because standing in the front doorway she’s just about the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

Coral pink skin draped over legs built like tree trunks – waging a war of attrition against a pair of work pants eligible for veteran’s benefits, and winning it by the look of the tears. Cushion around the midsection: serving double duty as protection and a calorie reserve for long bouts of physical labour. Arms poking out of a sleeveless, tastefully sun bleached off white work shirt that look like they could heft up a laser cannon. Years of desert dust had taken up the venerable work of sculpting her a strong, hardy jawline that could come out the other end of a brawl with no more than a bruise. All this topped off with a half dozen shoulder length Nautolan head tentacles.

I didn’t even know women could look like that – they definitely can’t while adhering to Imperial Diet and Dress Guidelines – but I’m glad she does. Her deep black eyes are on me. I’m glad to be wearing a helmet, just now noticing my jaw dropped while I was looking her up and down.

They’re off me again. She’s looking around the bar. Oh shit, right, I’m in full armor. Wave her down. She’s pointing at herself incredulously. Nod, but don’t nod so hard I look desperate. Alright that worked. I never got sent on information gathering missions, so I don’t have any training for how to seduce a woman, but all the guys used to say just be yourself and act natural.

‘H-hi’ Terrible. Cracked, warbling voice, trembling like a schoolchild. Clear your throat, pretend this is a debrief with a particularly informal officer, and try again.

‘Hey! Brayli, right?’ ‘Yeah, you’re Koben?’ That husky drawl is just about making my knees buckle, really glad I decided to meet her sitting down. Her voice is bouncing around in my helmet like a concussion grenade bounces shockwaves around a cockpit.

‘Do you mind if I take this thing off?’ Point at the helmet to make sure she doesn’t think you’re some kind of exhibitionist freak. She’s nodding, good. Don’t put it on the table that’s weird and intimidating. The seat next to you is good, that’s normal, put it there.

She’s smirking now, oh no why’s she doing that, she’s making fun of me, now that there’s nothing keeping her from reading my face it’s written on me like a bounty poster how nervous I am.

‘Not sure why you bother wearing that, cute thing like you.’ Oh, I understand now, she’s forward. Really forward. Can’t keep the nervous laughter inside, but she seems to be liking it. Adrenal responses involve an up front surge and level off with time, take the conversation somewhere less stimulating and circle back around for another pass later.

‘I kept it this way by wearing the thing – an old squad-mate of mine took his off and took a blaster shot, looked like someone had smashed a tomato with a hammer.’ Why. Why did you say that. That’s weird, nobody knows what a smashed tomato looks like and nobody wants to know that it looks a lot like a blown open face.

Wait no never mind she’s laughing I’m doing great – mental note maybe this woman is dangerous – laugh too so you don’t look like a commando droid with synthskin draped over it. We’re having idle conversation, it’s progressing naturally. Keep talking.

‘That outfit looks practical, what do you need it for?’ She’s looking down at it, now back to me. ‘Speeder mechanic. I would’ve wore some nicer clothes, but I don’t own any.’ Another little laugh. She laughs a lot, it’s really pretty. I’d ask her to spend the rest of the night just laughing at nothing but that’s weird so I won’t. I’m already laughing too, I didn’t even need to remember.

‘Yeah I know what you mean. My closet’s this and a subcycle’s worth of identical underarmor.’ Too far, you were doing great but you were riding a thin line and now she knows you live like a soldier who has nothing else to offer – no wait another laugh she’s fine you’re fine it’s fine everything’s fine.

‘Well, it’s a very nice suit of armor. Maybe you can let me take a closer look some time.’ I’m pretty sure that was flirty, don’t be standoffish and professional about this. ‘You can take a look now!’ I’ll show her my gauntlet: it’s the smallest piece which makes people think it’s the least important but actually an incredible degree of engineering goes into all the microservos: nobody ever thinks unpowered armor needs microservos because you can move it just with your hands, but actually they’re there to subtly compensate for recoil. Normal Stormtrooper armor doesn’t have it, and in test environments where Purge and Storm troopers swapped armor it was found to reduce deviation by up to five degrees and increase hit probability by as much as fifteen percent. Why am I bothering to remember this; she’s a civilian speeder mechanic she doesn’t care about any of this.

She’s running her fingers along my hand. I know I’m not feeling her body heat because the suit is weather proofed, but it feels like she’s leaving lingering embers trailing along my skin. But not searing it like how the inquisition sears flesh with their lightsabers to torture dissidents, it’s more like the gentle warmth of a blaster barrel after a just slightly too long burst. It’s nice.

Her mouth furrows into a frown for the first time of the night. Why, what’s wrong, what’d I do, can she tell everything that these gauntlets have ever done? Is she a secret jedi? Does she feel them around her windpipe crushing the life out of her and her son is beating on the leg of my armor for me to stop but he’s so weak and I’m so much stronger and then there’s a crack and she falls limp and I walk away, leaving a scar that won’t ever heal in her son’s heart until he joins a resistance cell and I end up shooting him stone dead in the street?

‘It looks like this microservo’s a little out of tune.’

Oh. Well that’s fine. ‘Maybe you could tune it up for me some time?’ I didn’t even think that one through, but she’s smiling about it, so I guess we have something in common. She’s letting my hand rest on top of hers after giving it a complete once over. I know I should probably pull it back, but this is nice. Just a few more seconds. One. Two. Three. No more, it’s time to move on to something else.

‘So, what’re you doing for work now that the Empire finally let you go?’ Don’t correct her by saying I deserted. There’s a lot of things not to have said tonight, and I’m already safely past most of them, but don’t say that one specifically the most. Followup thing not to say: don’t tell her I’m a bounty killer. Definitely don’t mention that I’m specifically a bounty killer and not a bounty hunter because there’s an active bounty out on me and the only work I could get was the illegal version. Don’t lie to her, because that’s almost as bad as all those other things, but stretch the truth until it ends up somewhere respectable.

‘Freelance security work. Protecting transports and merchant caravans.’ Not a lie! Sometimes I end up guarding a dummy caravan as bait until the target shows up. She looks impressed. I’m out of things I can reasonably say, how do I follow this up. Drinks!

Yeah, get drinks, showcase my poison honed constitution, that’ll be really impressive! My inquisitor used to microdose me on common toxins to build up a resistance to ambushes and subterfuge. Whatever watered down swill a place like this can offer will be easy!

Speaking of, it’s been a long day. This place serve anything strong?’ Another little chuckle. I’m starting to savor every one of them. ‘Hey Glixnee, get us a couple snakebites.’ Oh, the mess hall used to serve those. Not really what I’d call strong, but out here I guess something recognizable is as good as I can hope for. The bartender is making the drinks and he’s bringing us the drinks and the drinks are here and this is the single most revolting substance that has ever entered my digestive system.

Poisons are usually engineered to be subtle, but this is just making no secret of how awful it is. She’s sipping at it with no trouble like it’s a glass of water. I think if I try that I’ll throw up. All of it, right now. It feels like molten slag going down, but it’s gone. Now I can dilute it over the night. She’s laughing again.

‘Wow, hope you’ve got a synth liver.’ My body feels like it’s unspooling, but my limbs still move so I guess I’m fine. ‘Whaddyu meen?’ That didn’t come out right. Try again, still wrong. She’s laughing the hardest she has all night. I’d chug a gallon of this expired swill if it kept making her laugh harder.

‘You know you just downed a glass of snake venom, right? You’re supposed to sip on it over the night, let it attack you in small waves and fight it off for a light buzz. It takes three hours to drink one dose safely without an enhanced toxin filter.’ I’m sliding down the bench. The lights just got a lot brighter and her voice is so loud now, she’s talking so slowly too. My mouth tastes like I licked the ashes out of the barrel of my blaster rifle, but other than that I feel gooooood. ‘Ooooh. Yaaaay.’

I’m having a great time halfway to the floor, giggling and drooling and now I can’t move my face any more so I guess I’m gonna rest in a pool of it for a little bit. She’s saying something to the bartender but my ears are ringing like one of the guys pranked me with a flashbang so I don’t really know what it is they’re saying. Oh now she’s picking me up, she’s giving me a hug, hooray! Oh she’s holding my mouth open, are we having a kiss now?

The bartender’s coming over, when’d he join our date? Get him out of here, I wanna flail my arms at him to get him out of here but they don’t wanna move for me, little treacherous bastards. He’s pouring something down my throat and it tastes even worse than the venom somehow and he’s carrying me away. Goodbye everybody at the bar! I want to wave but my arms are still mutinying so a little happy wheeze will do.

I’m kicking my legs and having fun with the ride and now I’m in a bathroom stall. I don’t really need to use the bathroom and now my tummy’s turning itself inside out and I’m purging the toxins from my system, coughing and retching as it burns even worse on the way up than it did on the way down.

The world’s coming back into focus and I’m mostly over whatever the hell that was but still reeling from the exertion, only dimly aware he’s talking to me. I’m looking up at him, and he’s laughing, but obviously at me and not with me like Brayli does. ‘Gotta admit I don’t see folks try that one too often. Wanted to look tough for your date?’

I’m being reprimanded, a role I’m a lot more familiar with. He’s talking again now that I’ve managed an embarrassed nod. ‘Well you put on a great show. I’ll go tell ‘em to settle down before you come back out, but hell: I’m not even gonna charge you for this.’ His apron has a lot more pockets than I expected, and that ever so slightly glowing blue vial is singing a siren’s song of relief to me right now.

‘I got most of it out, but not enough for it not to kill me, and this is the antidote?’ ‘Good guess. This a hobby of yours or something?’ It’s the least objectionable thing I’ve had to drink tonight, even factoring in the lumps. Splash some cold water on my face, swish my mouth out from the tap, and I’m feeling close enough to fine to go back out. I shouldn’t keep her waiting.

There’s a couple sets of eyes on me right now, but the only ones I care about are hers. They’re locked onto me and I’m not even forcing the little smile I can feel forming. ‘Hey. Guess a snakebite’s a little different around here than an Imperial canteen.’ We’re laughing it off together. It’s been a very nice change of pace to be laughed with instead of at.

‘Holy shit she’s got flesh and blood after all! Here I was thinking you’d found the last commando droid abandoned on the assembly line and dressed it up in a layer of synthskin so you could pretend anyone liked you!’

I could kill him, easily. He’s obviously drunk, so his reflexes are shot, and he’s a gangly little son of a bitch anyway. One of those chitinous species’ that don’t give in gradually to force, I’d get a nice satisfying crunch all at once. Put the helmet on so he can’t even hope for a glass to the face to save him, snuff the life out of his stupid compound eyes, reveal that I’m nothing more than a cold blooded killer, scar her for life. Forget it.

She’s giving me another smile, but this one’s forced. I had to study the way faces contort once during counterspy training and this one’s fake. Without another word she’s up, and then he’s down. One good right hook to the side of the head and – holy hell it bounced off the counter! Normally when you knock someone out cold they just slump over like a sack of meat and go through oxygen deprivation and die, but he might not even get the chance. By the Emperor I think I just swallowed my tongue. No, still feel it. Definitely made me jump in my seat a little, which even a proton torpedo across the view screen doesn’t make me do any more. I was infatuated before, but now I’m in love.

I’m still staring as she sits down, but now I’m worried that she’s mistaking how attracted I am for concern, or worse: judgment. Clear my throat, blink, put my face back on right. ‘Relax, his bug juice coagulates quickly. He’ll be fine.’ I’ll take her word for it. Not quite sure if I’m disappointed, but the swirling torrent of toxin hangover and flustered lust are definitely calling for some fresh air.

‘Hey, if it’s alright, do you maybe want to get out of here?’ ‘Please.’ We’re up, the helmet’s back on, my credit purse is a little heavier – my last job could only pay me in thousands so the barkeep had to break change – and we’re outside. I never thought I’d want to fill my lungs with this dry, dusty air but my head’s already starting to empty out.

‘Well, I should call a speeder. I had a great time though, if you wanted to swap comm frequencies I’d love to keep in touch.’ Unreserved, unabashed, not desperate, not apologetic, no promises to do better. I didn’t even know talking to someone could be like this. She’s giggling. It’s fine, she giggles a lot. I’m not in trouble.

‘I can give you a lift.’ She’s pointing at a land speeder. At least, the rough silhouette of a land speeder. More like a cobbled together pile of parts that failed routine inspection. Any requisition officer would scrap it, maybe even have it melted down and recast to be on the safe side, but if she’s a mechanic then I’m sure it runs. Can’t exactly say it looks out of place around here.

We’re in the speeder together. It’s cramped. Her thighs are laying siege to the unyielding plate of my suit. There’s no room for me to put it if I were to take it off. This suit’s the one thing that’s never failed or betrayed me over the years, but I’m half tempted to dump it out the side just so it could be my skin she’s pressed up against. I’ll settle for putting my helmet on the floor.

My place is a long way out of town. Little whitewashed clay hut in the middle of nowhere, an inconspicuous blip not worth paying any attention to. Suits my needs perfectly, but it’s a long trip. I always take a speeder halfway then march for half an hour just so there’s nobody who could trace my location.

We’re stopped. ‘Engine trouble?’ She’s shaking her head and pointing over my shoulder. ‘Just wanted to take in the sunset for a few minutes.’ Oh wow, that’s worth stopping for. The three suns look beautiful over the dunes; their usual oppressive hues are fading into a cool pink. Glittering and sparkling and reflected a million million fold over the sand. I’ve never seen anything like it.

Her weight just shifted onto me. The speeder is on the ground, so no danger of capsizing. I’ve seen other troopers use this maneuver before: put my arm around her shoulder. We’re sitting silently, just watching the suns disappear over the horizon. It’s nice.

The minutes pass, and the suns retreat with them. I’m looking into those fathomless black eyes of hers, completely devoid of texture and depth. I’d love to be lost in them forever. The speeder starts up more easily than the first time, and we’re off across the dunes again.

I can’t invite her in, she can’t even get line of sight to my place. Damn it! I clear my throat at the crest of a dune. Good enough visibility, I can find my way back home. ‘You can let me out here. I like the exercise.’ Not the whole truth, but not a stretch either: I always appreciated long marches.

Getting out is a modest challenge with the speeder still running, but I can manage. She’s waving me off, I’m returning the gesture. ‘Not quite the night I was expecting, but one I wouldn’t mind following up on. Call me tomorrow?’ I’m nodding, we’re both waving, she’s driving off, I’m walking alone with my helmet under my shoulder and a chill creeping across my face. Those last two solve each other.

Lots of time to think on the march. Think about what I am, think about what I used to be. Child slave, orphan, Naval Academy star pupil. Storm trooper, Purge trooper, assassin. Deserter, bounty killer. Happy. I was happy tonight. Maybe a little of those other things, but mostly that. I hope I can be happy again soon.

#star wars #sapphic #transgender #oc #my oc #writing #Koben Tarani

[scrumpledorph-writes]

Koben’s Requisition (Shopping Trip)

I

My wounds have had long enough to heal. Left arm is still a little tender, but I don’t think I can bear sitting around doing nothing all day again. Already deviated from my sleeping schedule by fifteen minutes last night. I should go scope out the landscape around here, pick up a few essentials while I do it: a change of clothes, a spare blaster, maybe some thermal weave if I can manage that discreetly. Date night tomorrow too; so I should get a second change of clothes. A nice one.

No getting around wearing the armor into town again. As much as it draws attention, it at least gives people the proper impression. Not much difference between a body glove and a cat suit to a civilian eye, and just the thought of being propositioned has me recalling all the practice I had on how to snap a wrist. I don’t think the blood would wash out if someone tried to perform an unannounced physical inspection. The blaster rifle should probably stay home though.

Only twenty minutes across the flats to town, this speeder performs exceptionally far above the standard set by all the taxi speeders I’ve been calling. Could be made with illegal parts, or stolen Imperial tech. If that’s the case, somebody will come looking for it. They likely wouldn’t be expecting anyone to put up a fight, and their body wouldn’t last more than a few days on the sands – scouring winds for the flesh, scavengers for the bones, but that would leave a loose thread for whoever sent them. They’d send a bigger force to follow up, one of them might report back, and I’d be left looking for another little nothing planet to start all over on, alone.

I should have this thing inspected. Brayli’s a speeder mechanic, but I don’t know if it would offend her to blend her work and private life, even if I offer to pay. She probably wants to get away from work when we’re together. I could find another mechanic, but then she’d wonder why I didn’t bring it to her; if I don’t think she’s a good enough mechanic to do the job. Maybe I should bring it in now, while we’re not on a date and she’s a speeder mechanic first. Just bring in the speeder I stole off a bounty target, I’m sure that won’t cause any problems. Stupid; bad idea.

Think about it later, stick to the plan for the day so I can at least get something important done. Blaster first, it’s the easiest to carry around. Should just assume anything I can find around here is illegal, so who looks like the most credible illegal dealer? Is that a squadron of Jawas running a stall out of a speeder truck? Never seen that before. They at least probably stole it first hand, so I’d be getting it second hand, which beats third or fourth from any of the rest of these shops. They’re looking at me expectantly—too bad I don’t speak Jawa.

‘Hey miss! You in the suit! Were you hoping to do business with my fine companions?’ Long loose coat, loping posture, smile too wide for his head, voice like a tread on gravel. Shifty, probably a conman. Unfortunately my best bet. ‘I was.’ ‘Ah, but you don’t speak Jawa do you?’ ‘No.’ ‘Ah that’s alright my friend, few people do.’ He’s trying to put his arm around me. Too friendly. Firm hand on the wrist, firmer shake of the head. ‘Ah, straight to business with you, I can respect that.’ He’d better. ‘So, what is it you’re in the market for?’

‘Blaster pistol. Highest power you have. Discretion is no concern.’ ‘Highest power you say? I hope you have your papers.’ He’s laughing, slapping two of his four spindly hands against two of his twig like knees. Trying to draw me in, establish a connection he can exploit. ‘I don’t.’

He’s standing up straight now, but with how crooked everything else about him is it makes him look off balance. ‘Ah ha, well, that’s no matter. Only a joke. Please, feel free to browse. We keep the batteries stored separately, so by all means inspect the merchandise, give the triggers a test squeeze or two.’

Surplus, worn out, stripped, knockoff. I should have expected none of these would meet any official standards. Good thing I carry a pocket tool. There might be one good blaster spread across this entire inventory. ‘Hey hey, whoa lady, what do you think you’re doing?!’ He’s spineless, maybe literally; push a little harder and he’ll fold.

‘You claim to sell blasters. These aren’t blasters, they’re piles of scrap. Most of your customers won’t know the difference until it kills them, but if you cared about that you wouldn’t be selling them.’ Guilt. Not the guilt of knowing his shoddy goods have killed his customers, but of knowing he’s been caught. ‘Let me pull a few of these apart, put together a complete, functional blaster, pay you for the parts since I’ll be handling all the work – then you can put the rest back together and get back to scamming people.’ His face looks more red than an imperial saber and pressurized as a grenade.

‘Two thousand credits for the privilege of picking and choosing.’ ‘A good heavy blaster is worth seven hundred new; five hundred and fifty for your secondhand wares.’ ‘That’s in the core worlds where you can get one made easily, fifteen hundred for the import fee.’ ‘Your Jawa partners stole these off corpses, I can see the kill tallies carved into some of them. Seven hundred and fifty.’ ‘And they risked their lives getting to them before the Tuscan raiders! Twelve fifty.’ ‘Nine hundred and I’ll put the ones I have to take apart back together myself.’ ‘One thousand for insulting the quality of my wares!’ ‘Done.’ Emperor that was exhausting. Used to be able to just serve up a writ of requisition to commandeer things like this. Or arrest the vendor.

I can’t believe it took two hours of sifting through and comparing their whole stock, but I finally have an acceptable blaster. Thick grip, long barrel, wide firing chambers, compact sight. Imperial steel through and through, none of those ornamental engraved wood or softer metal inlays that are popular with civilians. Just a needless point of failure. Reminds me of my academy days, stripping and reassembling a blaster over and over until I could do it with my eyes closed and an alarm siren wailing. Now I just need a holster and some practice shots to get used to the weight.

‘Finished. I’ll take five batteries for it. I’m done haggling for the day, and I know how much a battery costs. Twenty five credits per unit.’ He seems as fed up with me as I am with him, he’s not even feeding me excuses any more.

‘Say, not bad work you did putting these back together. One connoisseur of fine weapons to another, perhaps my wares may not be of the highest quality on the maintenance side of things. That’s why I have to sell them on the street. How would you be interested in a business proposition?’ Oh, he stopped haggling so he could get on my good side. How shrewd. Still, bounty work is inconsistent even under the best conditions. A fallback option wouldn’t hurt.

‘I have other avenues of employment, and I only work freelance. Whatever you’re suggesting would likely be bottom priority. If you’re still interested, keep talking.’ ‘I’m sure you noticed a lot of the problem with these blasters is wear and tear. Jawas are great at finding things and taking them apart, but not quite so good at putting them back together in good working order. How would you like to be my refurbishing specialist? Your blaster’s looking great, and all you had was a pocket tool and a folding table on the street. With a proper workbench and suite of tools, like the ones I’ve got at my workshop, you could probably get these good enough for the Troops!’ Delusions of grandeur. I don’t have time to get wrapped up in some small time scheme.

‘So you can peddle them to passersby? Sounds like wasted effort. The Empire has industrial grade contracts.’ ‘Ah that may be true my friend-’ ‘We aren’t friends.’ ‘-My potential business partner; but the local gangs are always looking to expand, and that means they always need new blasters.’ High quality blasters in the hands of the local gangs means higher quality blasters being pointed at me on the job.

‘Do you think I wear this armor because it’s comfortable?-’ It actually is, the body glove was vacuum contoured perfectly to my body, with all the plates machined to match. I used to sleep in it on long operations, just to be safe. But that would undermine my argument. ‘-My primary earner is bounty work. Being shot at by military grade blasters already sounds like a losing proposition, knowing I’m the reason they have them would just be insulting.’ ‘Mm. I understand. Take my comm number. If you ever change your mind, let me know.’ Doubt I’d ever make enough off of this to be able to stop doing bounty work, but fine.

II

That ate up too much of the morning. I was hoping to take a shuttle to the system capital early so I could beat the commute, no way I’d find anything approaching fancy on this planet, but at this time of morning there might as well be a blockade on intra-system traffic. Guess I can pick up those civilian clothes now.

I’m a little surprised to see she has an actual building to operate out of, but the desert winds aren’t kind to lighter fabrics so she must get a lot of repeat customers. Half filled racks of disparate pieces of clothing. A lot more variety than I’m used to. Could branch out from imperial black on imperial black. Not a lot in my size though.

That coat looks reliable, nerf leather lasts almost as long as plastoid. Still has most of its color, looks about my size. ‘Do you have anywhere I could try things on?’ A single disinterested finger from the other side of a holovid. Fine by me, I’ve been marketed to enough today. Over the shoulder and keep looking. Slim pickings for pants, and cloaks aren’t much my thing. Always get worried that there’s nothing under them whenever I see someone wearing one, or worse: that they’re hiding a lightsaber.

One pair of denym pants that looks like it could fit around my thighs. Another durable bit of civilian wear – no reason to compromise on that principle just because I’m stepping out of my armor. A shame it looks like it just came in from a few years sitting out in the suns, but it should do.

Those are some nice boots. Sturdy, reinforced worker’s wear. Maybe I can keep a little black in my wardrobe. The Empire puts everyone in it for a reason, right? Slimming, obscures your silhouette, muffles features. They have a nice clack when I tap the toes, could probably stop a blade if it really came down to it. Vibro-blade would probably still go through them like paper, but normal people take that risk every day and most of them make it out okay.

A nice looking holster. It looks new—brand new; too new. Imperial black, with a belt loop to fit any size and shape of blaster pistol. This is an officer’s holster. What would an officer be doing this far out? Hopefully not looking for me, and if so, hopefully this was picked off their corpse. Doubt the girl behind the counter verifies her sources. I’d have no choice but to buy it just to destroy it; the fact that it fits my blaster well is just a bonus.

This shirt might have been imperial black at some point; another casualty of the triplicate suns. Really need to consider moving to a system with fewer of those. A softer retirement than most imperial uniforms get though; no cuts or burns. It’s also the only shirt here that can fit over my shoulders, so I don’t have a choice.

I’m not sure I like civilian clothes. Even in the regular Storm Corps the glove was vacuum fitted despite the plates being mass produced, but after ten years of custom machined Purge Corps plates contoured to my musculature, these generically cut fabrics feel like they’re strangling me. I can feel the stitches on the jacket strain if I deviate too far from rest, not to mention the cuffs hanging up on my elbows. The pants would probably rip wide open if I had to sprint or lunge at something, even a crouch feels like I’m pushing my luck. The shirt has the opposite problem – loose fitted to the point of bunching and folding under the jacket so badly I’m constantly pulling on the collar to keep it facing straight. Boots and holster fit well though.

Fifty credits for it all, not a single word from the shopkeeper. One of the better interactions I’ve ever had with one. Easier to carry it around than my armor, so I guess I’ll have to head back home and change into it before I head off world. Less likely to get stolen if I leave it in my speeder too. Surely the people around here aren’t that desperate.

I doubt the morning rush has finished yet. The less time I can spend on a crowded ship the better. Maybe I can ask Vranki to order me in that sheet of thermal weave, a crime boss is sure to understand the value of discretion. If she’s halfway competent it should be no problem to source, and if not I should probably start looking for another employer.

‘Hey Trooper. Wish you chose a different code name, kind of confusing when I have to call out regular troopers.’ Good to see he remembers me, I think it’s a faux pas to disarm someone two times. ‘I’ve spent so long being called that I couldn’t think of anything else.’ Not a lot behind the eyes in that nod he’s giving me. ‘Nice blaster by the way! Where’d you get it—I’ve been thinking of upgrading. Just in case a fire fight ever breaks out, y’know? Can barely hit a bottle past ten feet with this thing.’

‘I had to splice together six blasters to make this one.’ ‘Oh no way, that’s crazy. Could you take a look at mine? Maybe it’s just rusty or something.’ Hard to picture this guy ever being a serious threat no matter how good a blaster he has. No rattling, no visible wear and tear. Likely doesn’t get fired often enough for that. Even a pretty good scope, but it’s completely warped. ‘Everything’s fine but the sight, what happened? Did it get run over, dropped off a roof?’ ‘That’s the bit I use to crack open beers when a shift is dragging on.’ Glad I’m wearing my helmet so the disgust on my face can’t sour our working relationship. ‘Don’t do that.’

Nothing seems to change much around here. Still dark, loud, and smoky: all problems my helmet solves. Surprised Vranki has time to see me, I figured there would be a lot more overhead on running a gang. A lot of it must handle itself now that I give it a second thought though: addicts just need some space to dissociate, and I’ve never seen someone paying for sex unhappily. The problem solving flow chart is probably a lot more linear without having to worry about court reprimands or public scandals—just use violence until the problem is gone.

‘Ah, Trooper! Glad to see you up back up and walking without that nasty limp. You here for work, or did you need a little help unwinding?’ ‘Neither ma’am. I would like to make use of your front companies if possible.’ ‘This isn’t Coruscant, why would I need to bother with those? Everybody in town knows who I am and what I do, and the only people who’ve given me trouble over it so far are people trying to compete.’ That’s a worryingly lax attitude, but the sooner I restore my armor’s integrity the better.

‘I need a sheet of thermal weave, but I don’t want my name on the purchase. Could I proxy it through you?’ ‘Of course! Normally that sort of business would start running into exorbitant fees, extortion if I’m being honest with you—woman to woman; but since we’re professional associates I’ll let you off with just a ten percent surcharge. I’m still running a business after all.’ ‘Fine. Give me the price as soon as you have it. If it’s too much, give me a target to make up the difference.’ ‘Oh don’t worry, I have no shortage of work for you if it comes to that. I should have a quote for you by the end of the day, not like it’s illegal or anything. Has anyone ever told you you’re paranoid, dear?’ I doubt it would be worth explaining how criminal activity looks from the enforcing side of the law. The Empire has a loose grip out here, but it tightens every day.

Suns are out in earnest now, traffic should have broken up. Just need to stow the armor at home and head to the spaceport. Things have been happening fast enough lately that I’ll likely be home by the time I’ve parsed them all in a sitrep. Vranki raises a lot of red flags – she makes half the rookie mistakes I spent seven years busting people on, and seems proud of it. She’s only gotten big because there’s no law out here to crack down on her, but once there is her operation is done. I need to not be a part of it by then. There’s no such thing as an honorable discharge from a crime boss’ service, so I might need to ingratiate myself to someone else more discreet and help with a hostile takeover. Should take my next contract from someone else too, better not to establish a pattern before breaking it.

Situation at home is appreciably unchanged. Looks like the wind rustled the shutters though, wish those stayed shut. Better not to invite any prying eyes or opportunistic scavengers in, even this far from town. Armor’s safely tucked in the alcove, casual clothes are on, time to go.

III

Honestly glad there’s no good tailors on Doobinth, I could use an afternoon away from this planet. Waterproofing is easy, but sand infiltrates every crevice in a piece of gear better than any assassin I’ve ever worked with. Maybe I can take Brayli off world for a date some time. I hear the capital is interesting. Not nice, considering it’s a hyper dense ball of iron that cooks you alive if you leave the arcologies—with rivers of mercury flowing across a lot of the surface, but apparently there are some breath taking views. I can’t even imagine how it got chosen to be the capital though.

Hang on a second: why does it smell like exhaust inside the ship, and why does it make me feel...nice? Better look around, just to be sure there’s no leak. It seems to be coming from that woman over there. That Nautolan with pink skin and tight coveralls who needs two seats. What’s Brayli doing on this shuttle? Should I talk to her? If she sees me I have to, it’s not nearly loud enough to pretend I didn’t notice her. We aren’t scheduled for a date until tomorrow though, she probably wants to be alone. Likely left the planet to get a break from me, I shouldn’t be too pushy. Just leave her alone.

‘Hey Koben, is that you?’ Oh, okay, never mind, impromptu short date. Public transportation through the void of space is romantic, right? It doesn’t matter, you need to get up and use your legs to walk over to her so you aren’t shouting across the cabin. ‘Oh, hey Brayli, it’s good to see you! I just happened to be heading to Saraz myself for some-’ Don’t ruin the surprise by telling her you’re going to spend a sizable chunk of your blood money on a dress from a tailor you’ve only heard about on the HoloNet; that would look stupid for two reasons. ‘-sightseeing.’ ‘Lucky you. Some oil baron who only drops by for the winter wants me to supe up his speeder so he can blast across the dunes, and the folks who make the parts for it don’t deliver. Just my luck, huh sugar?’

A pet name. A friendly elbow. That soft, warm laugh she does. How do I respond. Do I put my arm around her? Kiss her? Not in public, surely that’s too far too fast. I’ve been in situations like this before. This is a tightrope, she’s testing you. Fall and it all ends once we land. I recognized it, that’s the first part of the test, now all I have to do is figure out the answer.

‘You alright? You look a little pale, the shuttle making you sick?’ ‘No! I’m fine! I’m sorry. You’re very unlucky. I hope those parts are easy to transport.’ Feels like I just got hit by a speeder. ‘It’s just a few little nuts and bolts. The kind that are just a tiny bit off from industry standard so they can sell you replacements.’ A second part of the test, breadth of knowledge review, I can handle this.

‘Oh! I know what you mean, blasters have that problem all the time. The Empire published standard dimensions for chamber dimensions, seal sizes, firing power outputs, every characteristic that could possibly be regulated, because practically every culture had their own informal standards. Steep fines for intentional propagation of non-regulation part dimensions. The reason they do it is because they need to be able to requisition replacement parts from as many potential sources as possible, for when troopers are on long field operations and left cut off from official support lines. Of course, with how many blasters are rarely used, and passed down from father to son for generations in particularly egregious cases, there’s still quite a sizable market for unlicensed blaster parts. This one here I actually spent an hour just this morning putting together because of how many parts felt like they fit, but started to squeak or jostle upon further inspection. A lot of people think that they can get by with a fit that’s close enough, but with how much stress is placed on a blaster during use, the best result is that your blaster falls apart on you, and the worst is that it explodes in your hand.’ That should be sufficient.

She’s laughing again, and now our thighs are touching. There’s ample space for them not to be if she wanted, which must mean I passed. No other place for it now, so it’s safe to put my arm around her. This is nice. I hope the transport stalls out.

‘Wow, and here I thought troopers just fired blasters. I’m starting to think you’re secretly an engineer just trying to impress me with all that trooper talk.’ Teasing. Lighthearted teasing, I remember this from my academy days. ‘How do you think I got the armor?’ ‘Made it yourself in a workshop. It only looks real; the plates are rusty sheet metal you pulled off a speeder and painted up pretty. I could probably snap chunks off of ‘em!’ She’s grinning, and so am I. I hadn’t realized.

‘No way to prove that now, since I left the suit at home. Can’t risk depressurization with some sharpshooting, and there’s no floor space to spar a few rounds.’ She’s trying to lean in close, but her head barely reaches up past my chest. ‘Oh don’t worry, I’ve got the perfect spot to spar a few rounds at home.’ Now would be a good time to cross my legs, just to be safe while that image runs through my head. ‘Haha, yeah, well—I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it until we get around to that.’

Transport just arrived. I don’t want to get up yet, and neither does she. ‘See you tomorrow night?’ ‘Of course. Oh, nice new duds by the way – I’d been meaning to say. You finally get tired of catching heat stroke in that suit?’ No time to explain how sophisticated the temperature regulation is, only time to smile and laugh. All the time in the galaxy for that. ‘I got tired of having to wipe the sand out of the cracks every night.’ ‘Maybe you’ll get used to desert living yet. Shuttle’s just about empty, should probably head out, catch a taxi before they’re all snapped up. Bye sugar.’

IV

Hard to believe this place is in the same system as Doobinth. Everything’s bright, clean, crowded, and loud. It has its charms, but I’ve been out of big cities long enough I think I’m starting to prefer wide open stretches of nothing. This place looks surprisingly barren for a clothing shop. Figured there would be a lot more on display, but all they have is fabric samples. ‘Good afternoon madame, welcome to my humble boutique. How can I assist you on this fine day?’ His voice is coming out fast and nasal, wonder if it has to do with how much neck it has to traverse. Not used to looking up at people.

‘I have a date tomorrow and need a nice dress.’ ‘But of course, a trifling matter.’ ‘I don’t see any to try on.’ ‘Oh no my dear, you do not -try on- art! Everything we Kaminoans create is art, and art must be made bespoke, one of a kind, by and for those whose ambition wills it into being. Please remove your jacket; my droids will take your measurements and then we may begin holo-projecting potential designs over you.’

All of these designs look awful. My shoulders keep jutting out, my waist is a straight vertical line, and all these silky smooth fabrics just draw attention to how cracked and worn my skin is. I’m stupid, this is stupid. Dresses are for women with the luxury of sitting in a temperature controlled office all shift and taking monthly salon trips. Ones who’ve never had to practice knife fighting or crawl through suppressive fire. Real women.

I’m crying. Haven’t cried once since the Empire took me in, and now I’m crying because I don’t look good in a dress I could never have imagined affording until now anyway. What a joke. ‘Oh please do not cry madame. What troubles you?’ ‘I don’t think a dress is for me. I’ll be on my way.’ I guess she’ll have to be satisfied with these clothes.

‘Oh you must not go! In all my years I have never had the pleasure of working with one such as yourself!’ ‘Someone built like a slab of wrought iron?’ He looks offended. Don’t know how he has the gall to be the one offended here, but that’s self proclaimed “artists” I suppose. ‘That is how you think of yourself madame? Do not say such things!’ I’ve spent the better part of my life taking orders, but a scrawny seamster is a step too far.

‘And why shouldn’t I?! I could go to Coruscant with more credits than I’ll ever see and still not find a tailor who can make me look pretty!’ ‘You would not, that is true, but that is because you would be looking on Coruscant. That is a planet of high society, a world where there is no need for one to hone one’s body. Within those confines of course there would be nobody who would know what to do with a specimen of your caliber.’ That makes a nonzero amount of sense.

‘What is my caliber then, how would you dress me?’ ‘Dry your tears madame—whilst I tell you all I could see from the moment you walked into my shop. Your physique is sublime: a sculpted, chiselled testament to the endurance of the natural form. This could be the result of costly bodily sculpting technology, that is perhaps true, but such technology is unheard of by anyone living this far from the core worlds. An employer of such methods would have no reason to visit my establishment, and thus you must possess a physically demanding employment to maintain it naturally.’ I never figured it was that noticeable. It must be easier to make out through normal clothes than under armor.

‘Compounding this, your posture: the proud and yet restrained bearing of a soldier! Your eyes scanned uniformly across my shop, shoulders level, gait even. Such is not the behavior of a mere athlete or physical laborer. Even in so safe an environment as a shopping district you stay alert – vigilant for threats. Had I a blaster pistol in my hand when you walked in, no doubt you would have taken it from me.’ That is a difficult habit to unlearn.

‘You sound like a detective, but none of that makes me look any prettier in a dress.’ ‘Of course; nothing would make you look pretty in a dress. I knew that from the moment I saw you.’ ‘Then why put me through that?’ ‘Though I gleaned much from your bearing, I am no Jedi: I had no way to see inside your mind.’ Really need to learn not to tense up just from hearing that word some day. ‘I apologize for the distress, but more important than showing you what would work was showing you what would not. Now that you’ve realized a dress does not suit you, I would be happy to tell you what will.’ ‘Go on then.’

‘To accentuate and flatter your powerful form is the purview of a suit, madame.’ Oh, he’s right, these look amazing! ‘From your smile I see you begin to understand, but I will elucidate: there are as many forms of beauty as there are cultures in this galaxy. While you are a human, you are also a soldier – you come from a culture of power, strength, discipline; it would be foolish to force the beauty standards of the cosmopolitan worlds upon you.’

High shouldered, sleek limbed, and just a little imperial black for the under layer. I can see why this place has such a high recommendation, if the real thing looks half as good as this holo-projection it should be the second fanciest set of clothing I ever wear. ‘It’s perfect. I never knew how good red looked on me. I have one request though.’ ‘But of course, it is only fair that the canvas be comfortable with the art placed upon it.’ ‘Do you have any blaster resistant materials?’

That laugh is a lot deeper than his usual speaking voice. Hearty, makes him sound strong. ‘Oh, a daunting task, but you are in luck. Many of the people who care to buy tailored clothing in this system are members of the less savory side of society, and as such would prefer not having to compromise protection for style. I cannot guarantee it will prove immune to high power weaponry, but most common blaster pistols should take no fewer than two shots to damage this mesh. If you find yourself utilizing this property, fear not, because all my works come with a lifetime warranty.’

‘You’ve really surpassed all my expectations, I have to say. When will it be ready, and how much will it cost?’ ‘No more than two hours, and five thousand credits will suffice.’ The credits are easy, but I have no idea how to spend the next two hours. I never appreciated the utility of long patrols until now.

‘Can I ask you a non-work related question?’ ‘But of course madame.’ ‘I don’t know a good way to pass two hours around here. Do you have any recommendations?’ ‘Oh it would be my pleasure. If you are in such a mood as to spend more credits, I would recommend that you purchase a pair of boots to match the suit. Yours are passable, but red leather would certainly complete the ensemble. As for yourself, and please do not misunderstand me – the rugged, down to earth look has a charm all its own – you may want to seek out a salon, if for no more than a manicure.’

‘A salon? That sounds like an excessive measure.’ ‘Consider it a part of the ensemble. Just as one would not expect to see a full face of makeup underneath a trooper’s helmet, so too does one expect not to see a woman in a five thousand credit suit have dirt under her nails.’ For how much he talks, I have to give him credit: it makes a lot of sense. Definitely not just talking to hear the sound of his own voice. ‘I failed to consider that before, thank you.’

V

The boots were easy, managed to find the exact same shade as the suit to avoid any dissonance. Not usually impressed by civilian craftsmanship, but these are almost as comfortable as my old ones. Good flex, breathable, spacious. I’ve never owned clothes that weren’t made for fighting in before; I feel protective of them already.

I’ve never been to a salon before. No that’s not true, I raided an illegal one once, but I’ve never been a customer. ‘Hi there, welcome, can I get your name?’ Oh hell, should probably not leave too much of a paper trail. Been getting too comfortable lately, think of a fake name. Nothing’s coming to mind. Just Hers. Can I use it? It’s not like she’s around to be upset, and it’s the least she can do to make up for everything else. ‘Tessa Revilane.’

‘Well Mrs. Revilane, I don’t see you on the list, but you’re in luck: we just had a cancellation so I can squeeze you in.’ Her smile is fake, but polite. Wouldn’t look out of place placating an officer. ‘What was it you were looking for today?’ ‘I have a date tomorrow and I want to look pretty.’

Just relax. It’s okay to close my eyes around these unfamiliar women with scissors. They’re just civilians, if they were Imperial assassins I would have recognized their body language. The chair is adjusted for my height, and I’m being washed with water instead of sonic vibrations for the first time in years. I should enjoy it.

‘Goodness, you really needed this cleanup. How do you even get your fingernails into this state?’ ‘I wear gloves most of the day. Trim them with a knife when they get too long.’ Wow. These women must take this deathly seriously, I’ve never heard such an affronted gasp from so many people at once. ‘Well, you’ve come to the right place dear. I’ll have them fixed up for you in no time at all.’

The warm water is nice, but being detailed like this by three different people makes me feel like a droid in a repair bay. ‘Not often I work with hair this tangled. This might take a few brushes, and there’s a strong possibility of pulling, is that alright? I can skip it if it would be too painful.’ ‘That sounds fine.’ I’ve taken serrated vibro-blades between the ribs, I’m sure this will be triv-ow. Easy to forget how sensitive the scalp is wearing a helmet all the time.

‘Please don’t be offended by my saying this ma’am, but these callouses are so thick I don’t think a foot soak will be sufficient. We have a micro-vibrational cleaner that detects changes in tissue density in order-’ ‘Will it make them pretty?’ ‘Yes ma’am, very pretty.’ ‘Go ahead.’ Never worn an open toed shoe in my life, but I’m here, no use taking a half measure. It tickles. That feels nice.

I’m starting to see why the officers made such a big deal about their grooming, it’s really relaxing once you get used to being touched. The prices weren’t that steep either, for a bounty killing salary. Maybe I should make this a regular routine. Come here once a month, get to know them by name, make small talk. Then they all recognize me when an imperial detachment comes looking. Better keep it to just this once, and put effort into savoring it.

‘Well, we’ve done all we can out here, and if I may say so myself we’ve done quite a great deal. There is an optional full body massage we can have done for you in the back, a masseuse droid handles it to reduce any feelings of awkwardness. If not, we can get to painting your nails and styling your hair and you can be on your way.’ A massage. Never had one of those either, usually just been injected with a relaxant whenever a medical droid’s scalpel was having trouble penetrating. Why not? ‘I’ll take the massage.’

Now this is luxury. Most luxuries serve a practical purpose: they’re a status symbol to separate the wealthy from their servants at a glance. Investments in psychological domination. Jewellery, clothes, fancy speeders, large apartments; things to be seen, not enjoyed. This is different. Nobody will ever notice this but me. I have so many credits I can afford to throw them away just for my own pleasure.

Each manipulator digit feels like it’s giving me a stim injection. I never realized how much tension impairs physical capacity. My physical conditioning regimen has largely compensated for it and kept me effective, but right now I feel like I could do a standing jump over a speeder. The oil feels nice too. Like the cool tingle of hypoxia settling in, but I can lie here and enjoy it without dying. It might not be a good idea to come to this salon again, but surely the Empire would never track someone buying a masseuse bot, right?

Even my clothes feel different putting them back on, everything is so sensitive and providing me so much feedback. I thought with bacta eliminating scarring that there would be no difference, but this must be how molting species’ feel.

‘That was amazing. I’ve never felt anything like it.’ ‘That’s great to hear! Just sit back down and we can handle your hair and nail polish.’ A holodisplay of potential colors, but I don’t need to look. ‘Imperial black please.’ Applied in under a minute. They look pretty. My fingers look...pretty. I look pretty.

‘Is everything alright miss? Are you allergic to the nail polish?’ Crying again. A different sort of crying, not one I’m familiar with. ‘No ma’am. I’m not sure why I’m crying. Just ignore it, and give me the same hairstyle I came in with please. I’m happy with it.’ Not much room for a fashionable haircut under a helmet. Even in the same style, it looks completely different now.

VI

Six thousand credits. Four month’s salary for a set of clothes and a deep clean. I’d have scoffed at that last week, but thinking of how Brayli’s going to react when she sees it is invigorating. It’s going to be great. ‘Hey lady, hand over your credstick!’

Wow, I even look rich enough to get mugged. A back alley is a back alley no matter what planet you’re on I suppose. It only ever makes the situation worse, but I can’t stop myself from laughing at this guy. I’ve had some desperate people rush me with a knife, but this is just ridiculous: he’s grip is loose, his stance is terrible, and that blade looks like it would struggle to cut bread, never mind skin. Oh well, what can you do?

Grab his wrist, angle the blade away, pull him in, punch him in the throat, let him down gently so he doesn’t get concussed by the ground. Over and done, simple as that. Nails are intact, suit is still clean. He’s reeling pretty hard, I should call him an ambulance. Done. What a way to cap off my trip.

I could go for a walk back to the spaceport. Get used to the way these new clothes fit, break in the boots. How to pass the time? Already got everything done today, no topics for a mental evaluation. Maybe a marching tune. It must have been ten years since I’ve whistled one of those. The imperial March is always a classic.

VII

Back home. Probably shouldn’t wear this suit out too much, I can leave it off for the night. It’s still a bit too early to go to bed though. Maybe I can get my workout in early, then spend the rest of the evening practicing with this new pistol. That sounds like a good way to cap off the day. I can’t wait for tomorrow.

#writing #star wars #my oc #oc #Koben Tarani #sapphic #transgender

[scrumpledorph-writes]

Koben's Day Job (Underworld Hits)

I have something to live for now other than just marching through life for its own sake, and that means it’s time for some requisitions. Decent speeder for one thing, trudging through sand is considerably more taxing than marching drills. Casual civilian clothes, people keep mistaking me for a trooper for some reason, and also seem not to like them—I’m not quite sure why. Maybe a blaster pistol, every other person carries a blaster pistol around here, but my blaster rifle draws eyes. All those things take credits; a lot more credits than I’ve been earning.

It’s a fresh new subcycle, I’m up before the suns, my armors structural integrity exceeds military standard, and I took my blaster apart for a complete maintenance check last night. As far as killing for credits goes: I couldn’t ask for more optimal parameters.

The only wrinkle in the plan is I don’t know anybody on this planet willing to pay me—yet. There has to be at least one crime syndicate; the Empire has too loose a grip for them to not set up shop. Where there’s one, there’s usually two; and where there’s two, there’s usually conflict. Conflict leads to killings, killings lead to revenge, revenge causes collateral. Leave two people alone without a Storm trooper telling them to move along and eventually someone gets shot. Just need to make sure someone too lazy to do the shooting knows I’m really good at it.

Just got to town and the last sun’s already up. Speeder’s definitely my first purchase. Now, where would I find a congregation of low lives around here? I think criminals have morning shifts – I’m a criminal and I’m awake. Not that everything around here doesn’t look like a breeding ground for crime, but that’s the problem; it all blends together. Guess I should start walking down alleys.

Oh, perfect, this one leads down a side street, half the businesses are abandoned: got to be a front. An alien’s leaning against the wall, good start. He’s pointing a blaster at me now—this is going great! ‘Hey who the hell-’ Grab his blaster, twist his wrist – not hard enough to break it – start negotiating from a position of power.

‘Hi! I’m looking for work: do you have a crime boss who’s willing to hire people freelance? I don’t really have the option of being tied down right now, but as you can see I’ve got nerves of steel and great combat abilities. If he has a shooting range I’d be willing to demonstrate my blaster prowess too.’

‘I just keep a lookout for troopers you freak. Aren’t you a trooper?’ ‘This armor is stolen.’ Half true. Definitely not telling him I deserted, but every piece of gear I took with me is technically owned by the Imperial Armory, so continuing to use it for unsanctioned work is theft. I really wish I didn’t have to spell it out all the time. Maybe I should put a new paint job on the shopping list. But black and white are both such good base colors, and those are already official. Silver maybe, blaster metal gray?

‘Well, I guess stealing a trooper’s armor is pretty hardcore. Fine, lemme make a call.’ Better disconnect the battery so if he tries to shoot me I don’t have to deal with a nasty welt. Gun’s holstered, datapad’s out, door’s open. Give him a thumbs up and walk inside. This is going really well so far! If negotiations are quick I might even be done by lunch.

This place certainly looks like a crime den. Spice heads staring off into the middle distance behind curtained off rooms, vaguely erotic moans so thoroughly permeating the air that I can’t pin down a source, a bunch of scowling aliens of species’ I can’t quite identify with muscles and blasters to keep the peace. Did they use the Imperial information broadcasts on how to identify crime dens as a blueprint? I guess if they want to avoid people stumbling in here by mistake it’s better not to be subtle about things. That’s smart, these guys are smart.

Alright, in front of their boss, my hands are up and there’s four blasters pointed at me: standard protocol, liking the professionalism. That regular office chair she’s sitting in undermines her authority, but a very solid grasp of the fundamentals of power projection. Reminds me of an Imperial officer. Of her.

Her henchmen look nervous, why? Oh, my fists clenched. Unwind them slowly. ‘So, you’re looking for work?’ ‘Yes Ma’am!’ Not sure why they’re all laughing at a standard greeting, but it broke the tension and this negotiation is back on track.

‘You’re in luck. One of my men decided to form his own little gang. Ten thousand if you kill him. Take out as many of his pals as you can too – I’ll throw you an extra thousand per head. Ten of ‘em altogether. Ah what the hell: I’ll round it up to twenty thousand if you kill the whole crew.’ Oh that’s a good warm up to get me back in the habit, I guess she figured this wasn’t worth wasting her real members’ time with.

‘Before you ask, I’m letting you do it because it’s suicide: either you prove yourself to be a very dangerous, and thus very lucrative, partner – or you get out of my hair.’ Oh. I might need to look elsewhere for future career opportunities. But credits are credits. ‘I accept, I’ll get right on it.’

Alright, better look through the summary on the way. Apartment block at the far side of town. One of them’s out front shaking down anyone who tries to get to their home, two diluting spice in the basement to stretch for a profit, three putting together shoddy homemade weapons to sell folks, four relaxing on the top floor.

Wow. This operation is terrible! She could have just waited six cycles for it to collapse from being stretched too thin or dying of fumes or blowing half the block apart with their jury rigging. Oh well, her impatience is credits in my pocket.

Half hour walk and I’m there, not too bad. Big guy out front, they at least know to play to their strengths. Walk up towards the door, not him, he’ll put his hand out to stop me. ‘Hey that’ll be fifty-’ Knife from the utility belt on the other side of my body, push his blaster aside, aim behind the nape of his neck, clean my knife off on his shirt, stuff the collar into his throat to muffle the gurgling, wipe the blood off my visor – blue with white spots in it, nasty. Scan his face and I’m up a thousand credits. Good start!

A few murmurs from the crowd out front as he slinks down, but a finger over the mouth port is a gesture understood by almost every sentient. Would be nice to handle this without getting shot at.

Should probably work my way up from the basement. Boots thump all the way down the rickety old stairs. ‘Hey, who the hell are-’ I’ve had enough of exotic blood colors for today. Fingers cradling the neck, knuckles supported against the wall, thumbs on the trachea, pop!

He slinks down; hands on his throat twitching and scrabbling around like if he finds the right angle he’ll be able to un-collapse his trachea. He has a box cutter right there, this is just embarrassing. The field tracheotomy wouldn’t help because I’m standing right here, but if you’re not gonna do that at least die respectably.

His partner’s coming out to investigate. Human, I’m familiar enough with that one. Knife to the temple on her way out the door, spin her around to at least keep most of it off me. Swipe each side down the back of her shirt, let her fall. Two more scans, two thousand more credits.

Hope those stairs don’t give out on my way back up. A blaster just went off. Missed me by a few degrees, but the Twi’lek just died with a smirk on his face. Clatter and shouting upstairs. I didn’t give him enough credit.

Double time up the stairs, the luxury of surprise is gone and this basement is a death trap. Three of them at the hallway intersection, blaster pistols in each hand. I beat them to the draw, but none of us have time to aim. Blind fire for each of their midsections, clip two in the arm. Good enough. They have a smaller target, but more shots.

Close the distance leading with my left side; not coming out of a point blank shootout feeling good, but a melee gives me decent odds. Feel warmth, then heat, then searing pain ripple in waves through my arm as each successive shot connects. It only becomes a problem if I stop feeling it. Pin the one I didn’t hit to the wall. He’s bigger, but with the suit I’m heavier. A few stabs to the midsection is all I have time for. Just have to trust that my old Lethal Puncture Drills were ingrained deeply enough.

Throw him at his friends, their blasters clatter across the floor. Hard to line up a shot while the feeling’s receding from my fingers. Might just have to stab them. Why’s there an electrical whine coming from down the other hall?

Really wish I’d heard the other three setting up a turret, the barrel’s already glowing. Just jump back and hit the floor, it looks like that thing can’t pivot downward: they were expecting their friends to last longer. Taking a second look, I don’t recognize that model.

Oh, I see. It’s custom built. Those must be the engineers. There’s two dozen rifle grade bolts cracking through the hallway on separate angles. That’s clever, in a way. Much easier to hold ground when you can put fire downrange of an entire corridor at once instead of needing to swivel a traditional turret. These people would have had a great career in Imperial R&D.

Can feel at least five points of impact from my legs up through my back. Hear the battery whining again, I should have at least a few seconds to assess the situation. Just need to roll over and sit up. Body doesn’t want anything more than to lay here and die, it’s fighting me every step of the way. I’ve beaten stronger enemies.

They’re using the armor plating as a seat, and the battery’s facing me. All that effort put into this killing machine, and they mounted it backwards. Unbelievable. I’ll definitely be insulted when I have the time.

It’s an easy shot at this distance, even one handed. Haven’t had a chance to appreciate my visors light equalizing tech lately, but that ball of plasma rupturing and flaring up all at once would definitely have blinded me otherwise. It blinded them, but that’s because their eyes boiled and popped once the heat hit them. Hope there’s something left of them to scan.

Alright, up on my feet. See scorch marks on the ones I was fighting, friendly fire is a bad way to – wait a minute this one’s not dead. Oh hell, they’re one of those fluid based species’. The heat dispersed under their membrane enough not to kill them instantly, but now their bodily functions are shutting down one by one as they boil alive from the inside.

That’s nine accounted for, last one’s probably the type to send other people to die for him so I should be able to handle him even banged up like this. Got time to put this one out of their misery. Never really studied xenobiology, but a cut straight down the middle should do it.

There: the steam’s escaping, the fluid’s pooling on the floor. Mercy killed by an enemy combatant isn’t a bad way to go. Hope whoever gets me gives me the same courtesy. Nine scans, nine thousand credits.

Retire the blaster rifle for now, arm’s in too bad shape to brace at the foregrip, pick up one of their pistols. It’s about as low power as they come, but still enough to kill an unarmored target. Sights are a few degrees out, trigger’s stiff, corrosion on the battery terminal. All fixable, but why spend the time and effort on something that barely passes the threshold to stop being classed as a stun weapon?

I should pick up a good sidearm when this is done, something that can blow clean through the armor on a speeder bike in one shot. Not too worried about concealment, just need something I can fire one handed. Everyone’s always way more impressed by blaster pistol deadshots than blaster rifle point troops. I’d have an excuse to do a ton of firing practice too, only ever got trained with longarms.

Maybe get a blaster proof vest and some heat diffusing leggings and learn how to fight like those holovid adventure stars. On the other hand, I’ve killed scores of idiots who looked and acted like the holovid stars, so maybe that stuff only works from the other side of a projector.

Stairs. Three flights of stairs between here and the top floor. Probably a bigger challenge than the target at this point. A damage evaluation should help pass the time. The skin on my left leg is probably cooked and peeling considering the pain recedes somewhat whenever I take the weight off it. Right leg has sustained minimal blaster fire, might even escape with just a bruise. Left arm is limp but I already knew that. Right arm and head both uninjured. Dull aching in my back, but I have enough mobility through the pain that I doubt there’s any spinal flash fusion or damage beyond the musculature. Nothing that bacta can’t solve.

As for my armor, the heat weave will definitely need a proper evaluation, might even need to replace a few pads. Haven’t bothered looking, but I have to assume the polish is ruined. This has also been a pretty gore spattered mission now that I think of it. Strip the plates, strip the heat weave, soak each one in cleaning solution and plain water respectively, see if there’s any meaningful damage, reevaluate from there. Should give me time to do a quick cursory on the circuitry, but nothing seems broken so far.

The stairs are behind me. A locked door is in front of me. The only electronic door in the whole building. More foresight than I was expecting, honestly. The walls in this place are pretty thin though. Fire a few rifle blasts, don’t have to worry about accuracy, to compromise the structural integrity and they should cave to my body weight. Take a few steps back, draw the pistol, brace for a lot of pain trying to get these legs to run. Three. Two. One.

Two screams as I hurtle through the wall, one his and another from the woman he’s using as a shield. Shit. Really don’t want to cause collateral. Killed enough civilians for one lifetime. They don’t know that though. All they can see is two meters of jet black imperial steel cast in blood and tempered with blaster fire. Play it cool. Play this ice cold, Koben.

‘Drop the blaster or I’ll kill her! She’s a mother, you want a mother’s blood on your hands?!’ ‘I’ve killed plenty of mothers.’ Can’t shoot him yet, his last twitch would pull the trigger on her. ‘Whatever she’s paying you I can match it!’ ‘I can’t buy credibility.’ Point it at me, what’s one more burn?

Take a tentative step forward. ‘Don’t come any closer, I’ll do it!’ ‘I’m waiting.’ Pure theatrics, but I’m the only one who knows it. Hostage takers know they can’t kill their leverage: the second they do their position collapses. The fact I’m already here to kill him complicates that though.

He’s soft. Played at the criminal life and fell in too deep too fast. I can see the sweat on his brow, shake in his hands. Barely holding the blaster any more. Just have to bait him with a sliver of hope, then spring the trap when he bolts for it.

‘What’s your plan? Stay here, wait for the Empire to follow up on those blaster shots?’ ‘There’s a fire escape! I’ll go out the back, take my speeder, skip town! Skip the planet! Skip the system once I can afford it!’ Pause to let him think I’m entertaining that stupid idea. ‘Fine. Twenty thousand. On the table, then go.’ He’s shifting his body to reach for his credits. He doesn’t know his wrist moved, messed up his grip. Line of fire would just singe her chin. Skin grows back.

This trigger feels awful. Good thing I keep my gauntlet calibrated, might have missed otherwise. His face isn’t holding up well, maybe this thing packs more punch than I thought. Not quite sure what just splashed across her face, it all blends together once it gets flash fried. He’s down. She’s really lucky his blaster slipped off his finger. Better disconnect it, prevent any last minute misfires from making all that effort to avoid shooting her pointless. Ten bodies, twenty thousand credits.

She’s screaming. Of course she’s screaming, she’s probably never seen a man die before. Can’t sit her down, people don’t respond well to being touched when they’re in hysterics. Best thing I can do is probably get her something to wipe her face. I burst through right next to the bathroom, which is good because that’s about as far as I can walk.

Grab a cloth. Slightly damp already. Throw it towards her and fall to the floor as gracefully as I can manage. That breach was already pushing it. Can I scan him from here, will it reach? Just barely, but good enough. Scan locked in. Should probably do a few stretches, get the blood pumping again. I have a long walk back to get paid.

‘What the hell are you doing?!’ ‘Stretching. You can go by the way. Might want to clean your face. I threw you a cloth.’ I don’t know what her expression is trying to say, but I doubt she does either. She picked up the cloth at least. Not wiping very well, but the emotional numbness as her adrenaline responses level out is probably setting in. Hard to focus on wiping dried viscera like that.

Time to get up. Feeling a little better, should probably keep trying to get the blood flowing in my left arm. Looting rights are practically implicit contract text in bounty killing jobs, so I should see if he had anything worth taking. Speeder keys, not bad. Pocket change. Of course he wasn’t carrying twenty thousand, nobody does.

She’s crying in the corner. Right, that’s what happens to your emotions if you’re not experienced. I guess she probably thinks I meant all that stuff I said. She’s unarmed, the helmet can come off. On the coffee table it goes, next to both blaster pistols. ‘I didn’t mean those things I said. I was just bluffing so he’d flinch.’ She’s still crying.

Not really sure what else to do. I should try to get some of this blood off of me, it’s really been building up on the edges of my visor. He only had the one cloth. I think I saw a dish cloth in the kitchen. The tears have receded into a rocking sob. ‘I’m sorry you had to watch your boyfriend die after he pointed a gun at you.’

She’s looking up at me. That’s progress. She’s angry too, so she’s at least past the numbness. ‘He wasn’t my boyfriend you...fucking idiot! He was a client! He was a regular. I thought he was pretty okay. He tipped a lot and he was always really up front about when he wanted to do weird stuff and sometimes we’d chat and one time he got his friends to really scare a clingy client and. I’ll miss him.’

Oh. She’s sobbing again. I don’t think I can make her feel any better. She got all the anger out so it doesn’t eat her up inside like a necrotic wound at least. The visor’s clean. I can help her plan at least. Always thought forward pretty well.

‘Can you get home?’ Her head just moved up and down between her knees. ‘Alright. I need to leave now. You should leave too. Sex work is illegal. It doesn’t matter to me, but the troopers will arrest you if you tell them the truth, and if you don’t they’ll still probably take you in for questioning and make you relive the whole thing.’ She’s getting on her feet. My helmet shows more emotion than her eyes are right now. ‘Yeah. Thanks. Hope I don’t see you around, but this is a small town. If you ever need a thrill, I guess I’ll take your credits. Bye.’

Decide to give her a few minute head start so we don’t have to stare at each other in the hallway. No bacta spray in the medicine cabinet, mostly just cheap street drugs. Some painkillers and antiseptic though, could use those. Probably already pushing it on the troopers showing up, so no time to strip down for some proper first aid. Got them wrapped up in a bag for later, making my way to the fire escape. That part of his plan was sound.

Half tempted to just throw myself over the edge. It would be faster, and if I land splayed out enough it might hurt less than walking down all those flights of stairs. Better not. Gravity is one of the few things it’s really hard to make armor for.

I’m shocked that his speeder is brand new. Guess he was a speeder guy, spent his first haul of ill gotten gains on it. More flashy than practical, but it should do the trick. Five minutes to get back, I could get used to not needing to march everywhere. Injuries notwithstanding, this job wasn’t a bad way to get my foot in the door on this planet. I saw a few eyes peeking out at me from the apartments during the gunfight, the HoloNet will be talking about the gang that just got taken out. Doubt she’ll go talking to the troops, so no names: just the jet black trooper who killed ten gangsters by herself. Word gets around, folks will want that trooper doing jobs for them, and I’ll have more credits than I know what to do with in no time.

One step out of the speeder and I’m on the ground. The fall knocked the wind out of me, and my good mood with it. Really have to ask them if they have any bacta spray, that was not a lot of pressure to put on that knee. Take a few seconds, breathe, push up on your less bad leg. There. I can already see that shifty doorman. Not fast enough to get the blaster out of his hand right now.

‘I’m the one your boss hired.’ Back in the holster. ‘Oh, right, sorry. You look like shit. What the hell’d the boss have you do?’ ‘Kill a rival gang.’ ‘Oh, like what, hunt them all down? You got that done pretty quick.’ This guy could go all day, and I really can’t right now. ‘I want to report back to her, not you.’ A clueless nod, quick ping on the datapad, the door opens. Mercifully.

I can put up with a few chuckles from the bouncers watching me limp and wince my way to the back room as long as the credits are good. Her Empire aping veneer of disinterested professionalism didn’t last long, I barely got in the door.

‘You lived? I’m already seeing news broadcasts about the gang being massacred. Half the video is blurred out. Why the knife, what happened to those three burnt ones, good Emperor on Coruscant why did you have to dissect that watery one?’ Too tired for professionalism or entertaining inane curiosities. ‘I could talk better after a bacta spray. Figure you don’t have a tank so I won’t even ask. Also my credits.’

Got a booth to myself and as many vials as I need. She offered to get some very pretty working girls to help spray me, but I’ve always preferred handling this myself. Armor plates still come off well, nothing’s been welded together. Body glove still slides off easily—oh yeah there’s a bunch of thigh flesh hanging off of it. Mostly bruising otherwise, minor first degree burns. Oh hell some necrotic flesh on the left arm. No way around that problem other than through.

Can’t use the usual method of testing what’s still alive considering I can’t feel anything below the shoulder, so I guess I’ll just have to settle for carving out the black parts. Burn goes deeper than I thought, I’m faced with a problem: it won’t heal right if I don’t carve out every last piece, but as soon as I do I’ll start bleeding out faster than I can bandage it. Nothing else for it I guess. ‘I need some help with this. Don’t pick a cute girl, they’ve gotta have medical experience.’

An alien half as tall as he is wide is waddling sideways through the door. ‘You know first aid?’ ‘I’m a doctor.’ He has an accent I couldn’t place with an astronav, but I’ll have to take his word for it. Flop the arm down on the table, four of his six hands start poking and prodding for a response. I don’t have one for him. ‘Not good, but with your field dressing I guess you already knew that. You used a combat knife for this? Why not just lop the thing off, cauterize it on a speeder exhaust?! I’ve got tools.’

He wasn’t lying about his medical skills. I can’t physically feel it, but watching him work is a relief. Finer and finer flakes of black carbon are starting to pile up on the table and not a drop of blood. Medical droids didn’t used to do this clean of a job, and all he has is a magnifying glass and a scalpel! This man should be serving the galaxy’s richest and finest, not working out of a place like this.

‘Why are you working out of a place like this with your skills?’ ‘Imperial officer came into my clinic. Told me he had a son with a rare neurological condition. Needed a full neuroskeletal graft or he’d never move again. Very tricky job.’ ‘And you didn’t succeed?’ ‘Hell no! He was a dick. His son was a bigger dick. Insulted my looks, insulted my staff, insulted the art I had up on the walls. Waved a credstick in my face like that’d make it all okay. I have my pride – I botched it on purpose. Didn’t just botch it, made it so nobody could unbotch it. That takes talent. Now he breathes in with a pump, out with a vacuum!’ He’s laughing so hard he has to pause.

‘Then he tried to have you killed?’ ‘You got it. So, don’t make fun of how I look, how I talk, or anything else; and I’ll stitch you up as good as a bacta tank!’ All I can respond with is a slow nod. ‘Speaking of, all done. Only a tiny bit of good flesh came out with it, but even that set off the waterworks. Keep it wrapped up for a week and it’ll be like it never happened.’ ‘What about the nerve damage?’ ‘What about the nerve damage? Bacta it, keep that armor off so it has room to work and you’ll be able to juggle before morning. You can pull a spray nozzle, can’t you?’ I’m starting to understand the hostility that led him here, but the spray is already starting to soak in. Second coat, it’s starting to leave a thin film, done.

The only parts of me that didn’t get hit were my feet and head, which means the only parts of my suit I can wear are the boots and helmet. Glad I always wear shorts and a tank top under the glove. Still feel naked walking back to her office with the rest of the suit bundled up in my arms.

‘I’ve given it some thought, and I don’t want to hear the story. You seem to value discretion, and you’ve shattered my expectations – I took you for a lunatic with a deathwish who’d only gotten this far through a string of bad decisions; but consider that opinion retracted. You solved a lot of problems for me today, and set the groundwork for a good deal of credits in my future. Consider the medical treatment a professional courtesy, just this once. Your payment.’

Suits me. ‘Just put it on the pile. Could you break change though? I can’t exactly do it at a bank, and paying in ten thousands looks suspicious. One of those, nine thousands, and ten hundreds please.’ ‘That’s the least I can do. You never gave me your name by the way. If we’re going to forge a friendship in credits, I’ll need something to call you.’ Her attitude changed completely now that she knows I’m useful. Maybe she really did used to be an officer.

‘Trooper.’ ‘Trooper. Trooooperr. Vague enough to be plausibly deniable, but not something that comes up enough to cause confusion. Well then, call me Vranki—and enjoy your credits Trooper.’

‘Affirmative Mrs. Vranki. If you have any contacts who could use my skills, pass my call sign along.’

I put enough bacta on that most of the pain has already receded. The skin isn’t visible through the film, so I can’t judge the actual healing, but at least the dull ache has been replaced with a gentle tingle.

The suns aren’t even at their apex yet. I should head home, rest up. Get started on that maintenance. Haven’t been injured that badly before midday since my jedi hunting days.

#oc #my oc #Koben Tarani #writing #star wars #cw: violence #cw: gore #cw: death

[scrumpledorph-writes]

Koben’s Fifth Anniversary (Epilogue)

I

Six in the morning. Sun creeping in through the windows. Brayli sleeping soundly next to me, and the sounds of seabirds barely breaching the closed window next to me. A special day; we’ve been together five years. We couldn’t get an official marriage license for obvious reasons, and we’ve never lived together on a planet that actually lines up with Coruscant Standard Time, but my insistence on keeping track doesn’t bother her.

Been just a little under two years that we’ve lived here. She kept talking about how much she’d like to sit on a beach with me, so I worked double time to save up enough credits for a seaside property in the outer rim as a surprise for our third anniversary. Took an hour of insisting that the new blaster sling she bought me was just as good.

Spilled a lot of blood to get here, not a drop I regret. Couldn’t go legal with the hunts, but I could afford to be selective: nobody innocent, or trying to break from the life. I imagine the waves have washed it away by now anyway.

Vranki was disappointed to see me go, but considering how much of that work I did was for her, she didn’t begrudge me. Haven’t really kept up with her, but from what Jaxon tells me she’s doing well. Folded her operation in with his for security’s sake, and her girls have never been safer. She says my legacy inspires her men, for whatever that’s worth.

Since they’ve hardly got any law to speak of anyway, Jaxon figured he might as well make his own. I’m sure he’s embellishing a bit, but from everything he says it seems to be working out: plenty of volunteers who are sick of getting mugged, which is good because half of his father’s old men quit when he started telling them they couldn’t terrorize people any more. Good kid.

I didn’t think she could get prettier than she was when we first met, but the ocean climate has been great for Brayli’s skin. Brighter coloration, softer texture, and her head tentacles have gotten a bit bigger. She says it’s taken a lot of aches and pains out of her too. She says even I’ve gotten a little softer around the edges, though I can’t really tell.

We both took the day off. I put the bounty hunting behind me when we moved, this place isn’t as lawless as Doobinth. Not Imperial, some local government that’s just a tributary – but I figured I’d have ended up in jail if I kept working.

Didn’t think I had any other marketable skills at first. Tried to learn Brayli’s trade, but whenever a customer raised their voice with her I could feel my blood pressure spike as I came over. She said that sweet as it was, towering over rude customers was bad for business, and putting up with them was just part of the job.

Wanted to open up a self defence class, but we talked it over and figured that someone might recognize the techniques, start asking about where I learned them. Decided to open a blaster service shop instead, right next door to her speeder shop. I thought my squad mates could be neglectful in their maintenance: every other month I have to tell someone they’d be better off throwing their blaster out and buying a new one.

For as wonderful as living with her has been, some of the adjustments to civilian life have been hard. I’ve spent so long interacting with the public primarily through intimidation and force that it’s been hard to stop. We figured that those impulses would fade once I got out of bounty hunting, picked up a new life – I even cut the practice from my daily workouts – but it’s all still there.

A speeder will backfire when we’re in public and I’ll start a threat assessment, I’ll feel my hands creeping towards my belt for a blaster that isn’t there when someone raises their voice to me, and when someone pointed a blaster at me a few months ago trying to rob my shop – all I can remember is the police needing to call an ambulance.

I started practicing again after that. It takes the edge off – reintroduces discipline to those instincts. Even taught Brayli a few of the basics, just enough to defend herself. She never needs it though, always manages to deescalate things with a joke or a laugh. I tried learning how, but it never seems to come out right. It’s easier to keep them under control when she’s around.

II

Brayli always felt rushed when I meticulously planned out our holidays, so nothing special today. We’re making a nice breakfast, then maybe we’ll go spend the day on the beach. I’d figured it would lose its appeal with how available it is, but somehow it never does.

She likes to catch up on the news while we eat. I never bothered, learned from my time in the military that one officer is just as good as any other, so it always just seemed like one big distraction. Guess with how things have been going for The Empire lately though, it’s worthwhile.

They’ve been in decline for a few years now. Guess they over-expanded, made enough enemies for them to all get together and fight back on a united front. They put on a brave face over the official channels, of course, but I know the Imperial propaganda machine well enough to trust the shadow broadcasts at this point.

Not sure what’s so great about The Republic that it deserves to come back, but not my fight any more. They’ve even got a few Jedi if some of the more fringe networks are to be believed, so how good can they be? Whatever. Best case scenario, they both annihilate each other and systems get to self govern, maybe coalesce into a few smaller unions.

‘Hey sugar? You’re gonna want to read this.’ “The Empire has been officially disbanded. Following the signing of a peace treaty, The New Republic will be officially taking power over all Imperial jurisdiction in the coming months. Amnesty is being declared for all enemies of The Empire, provided they commit no crimes against The New Republic.”

‘Can you verify that somewhere else? That could be speculation.’ I can’t believe it. I don’t want to believe it. Not that I’m against it, but that I can’t let myself have that kind of hope without knowing for certain. We’ve eked out a comfortable enough existence on the fringes, but if this is true we could do anything. The galaxy would be the limit.

‘That was an official broadcast. Real as it gets.’ Official Imperial channels. I suppose not Imperial now. Going to take a while to adjust to that. But, more importantly, it’s all over. Even with how much distance we’ve put between ourselves and my old life, I’d sometimes worry that it was right behind me, another lesser Blackmire that I’d forgotten about would show up at my door with a squad and drag me off to a cell.

But now I’m free. Really free, no strings attached. Amnesty. An official, on the record, Imp- Republic legislative seal stamped pardon. I don’t even know what to say. There isn’t anything to say. She’s smiling at me. Smiling like I’ve only seen a few times, she’s just as happy as I am. Happy for me. I love her so much.

We’ve been smiling at each other for a minute, just taking it in. The words are finally coming to me. ‘Wow. You really outdid yourself with this anniversary gift.’ Can’t think of anything else to do about it but joke right now. There’ll be time for real plans later, but right now we have an entire day together to celebrate. ‘Happy anniversary. I love you.’ ‘Love you too, sugar.’

#my oc #oc #star wars #writing #koben tarani #sapphic #transgender

[scrumpledorph-writes]

Koben’s Final Battle (Putting Her Past To Rest)

I

Just past third sundown, doubt anyone else can see much of anything by now. Fully integrated night vision doesn’t make up for everything The Empire’s done to me, but at least I can put it to good use now. My armour won’t stick out so much against the sand either. No way the regular Troopers ever got something this advanced.

Glad Jaxon brought a more suitable troop transport – My speeder caps out at four seats, and Vranki insisted on coming along to “watch the fun”. At least she brought a blaster. ‘Stop it here Jaxon. We need to go the rest of the way on foot.’ Can see the top of his ship just over this dune, no way we can let him see our vehicle coming, that would completely give us away. His ship’s not too big, couldn’t possibly fit more than a squad of Troopers comfortably. Real step down from what he used to field, bet he never let it go.

Two out front, guess they’re the girls’ problem. ‘Vranki, are you sure about this part? We’re pretty far out of town; if I were stationed somewhere this remote I���d be highly suspicious of visitors.’ Blasters are up. I should keep a sight trained on them, just in case things go wrong.

‘You wouldn’t be happy to see a pair of beautiful, flirty women saunter over to spice up your long, boring night shift? I guess that’s why you were an elite – just relax and keep watching.’ She’s right, they’ve stowed their blasters. These girls are good: I can’t hear what they’re saying, but I can already see the Troopers’ body language relaxing.

They’re deserting their posts, just like that, to wander off with these women they just met. Unbelievable. Looks like Blackmire still runs a pretty loose ship after all. ‘How long will your girls be able to keep them distracted?’ I can’t imagine even the sloppiest Trooper is going to ignore blaster fire.

‘Well, they’ll be injecting those boys with some of my strongest stock as soon as they’re out of sight, so at least the rest of the night. Forever if they choke on their own tongues.’ Certainly an effective use of resources. Should give them a few minutes to get that done, go over things with Jaxon.

‘While the girls finish their job, I just want to clarify our procedure one more time. Stormtroopers have a high pain threshold and their armour is designed to dissipate blaster fire. Try to keep this quiet as long as you can, knock them out with blunt impact or stab them in the gaps between plates – but if it turns into a firefight be sure to aim for center of mass and double tap.’

He’s lightly armoured. Double layered leather over the torso, and a solid pauldron over the dominant shoulder – but clearly an outfit that favours agility over protection. We’ll be in a tight environment, so that will be of limited help, and I have no intention of trading his life for Brayli’s. ‘Right, got it. Stick to what you taught me, save the flashy stuff for the holovids.’ At least he understands the situation.

The girls are coming back, signalling the all clear. They’d make good assassins. I suppose that means it’s time to go. Hold on just a little longer Brayli.

II

Can hear laughter coming from the front of the ship. Probably playing cards to pass the time. Should check the back first, that’s where brigs usually are – and it’s good to eliminate the obvious before starting to jump to the fringes. If we’re lucky we can get this done with minimal casualties. There’s only one person on this ship I want to kill.

His sense of style is awful. Brayli makes the clutter work because it’s all her own creations, but just lining the walls with a bunch of expensive pieces of art with no sense for how they compliment each other like this – just to surround yourself with wealth: it’s absolutely tacky. Even I can tell that.

Passing by personal rooms now. Jaxon’s followed my lead well so far, but need to give him a finger over the mouth just in case. For as much as we need to keep it quiet, we can’t linger either; a single Trooper coming out could completely blow our cover. Nine standard Imperial Steel doors and one gold plated, subtle as ever Blackmire. If we get lucky I can strangle him to death in his sleep on the way out.

Into the cargo hold. One Trooper doing inventory. Usually one of the safest jobs on a ship, but not tonight. Pooling blood would be an easy giveaway for anyone passing by, so a choke hold will have to do. A shame all my requests to put a padded neck lining on the standard Stormtrooper uniform were never taken seriously, the seam where the helmet connects is effectively unguarded.

This is one of the things it’s hard to practice alone, but I still remember it well enough. His training isn’t bad, he went for his blaster right away – but Jaxon’s got quick hands and good instinct. Trying for my eyes, crotch; all the usual desperate last resorts. Not getting through plate though.

This is more personal than I usually like my work to be. Quick and professional is one thing, but holding him like this, feeling the life drain out of him so agonizingly slowly as his struggling abates – I didn’t used to flinch at things like this, but now it makes me sick. I suppose that’s a good thing in the abstract, but right now I need to power through it, for Brayli. If he wakes up angry and confused before we’re gone then all this effort will be for nothing.

He’s limp. We don’t have the time for me to keep the hold up until he dies. Going to have to snap his neck. Even through two sets of plate, I can feel his life in my hands right now. Don’t look under the helmet: I’m wearing the armour, I can slip back into the mindset. This isn’t a person with hopes and dreams, who doesn’t even know who I am or why we’re fighting. It’s an enemy combatant.

I can’t do it. He’s unconscious, and there’s an empty crate and some ties. It’s not perfect, there’d be one less loose end if I killed him – but I can practically see straight through that helmet to the person underneath. His only crime has been following orders – and Blackmire gave them to him.

‘Hey Koben, you alright? Your hands were shaking, even through the suit. They never did that in any of your old footage.’ Stand up, step back; breathe. I left him in recovery position, he’ll live. He was in my way, and I got him out of my way using the least violence possible. He’ll wake up with a headache, confused and maybe embarrassed – and then he’ll go on living. Just like me. ‘I’m fine. Growing pains is all.’

III

Must be getting near the back of the ship now, feels like we’ve walked about that much distance. It could be a single person cell, which would leave room for a little more distance I suppose. A bathroom, slight surprise to see it this far from the lounging area. Can’t hear anything from it, best to just keep moving.

The brig! It’s big enough for several, but only has one guest. She’s conscious, sitting up, no visible lacerations – and smiling. I’m so glad she’s alright. More than I can say, more than I can think, I just have to feel it. ‘Hey sugar. Fancy meeting you here.’ Lower than her usual boisterousness, but just hearing it still makes my heart swell.

I know it’s not a productive use of time but I can’t stop myself from hugging her. All I can feel through the plates is pressure, but I know what it signifies off by heart already. She feels like lazy afternoon cuddling, and barely fitting into a cramped speeder together, and laughing at stupid jokes, and everything wonderful in my life. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I wish a Jedi were here: they could rip the bars off or cut them clean in half so I could get her out of here and focus on wringing Blackmire’s neck.

‘We’re here to spring you, where’s the jailor?’ I suppose Jaxon wouldn’t have as intense of a reaction to her as I do. Good to have someone bring things back on track. We’ll have time for this later. It is strange that she’s unguarded, even low risk prisoners usually had at least one person on active guard at all times.

‘I’m right here.’ Trooper in the doorway. Key card dangling from his belt. Can’t afford to shoot him, and can’t expect to get him in a proper grapple. Just need to go for a tackle and try to control his arm, keep him from setting off the alarm. The fall knocked his helmet off, now I can – Stillwater?

‘Stillwater, is that you?’ His eyes are like combat knives, sharpened even more by suspicion. ‘Who the hell are you, how do you know my name?’ Don’t have the free hand to look him in the eye. ‘Jaxon, could you take my helmet off?’ I hardly recognized his voice, he sounds like he’s absolutely gone through it. I’d have figured he’d want nothing to do with Blackmire, especially after the trial.

‘It’s me: Koben Tarani. I’d say Lance Corporal, but that’s not the case any more.’ Recollection. I never forgot that drop, and it looks like neither did he. ‘Tarani? I – right, I’d heard you turned into a girl at some point. Wow, you look...haggard.’ Haggard. I suppose it would take a soldier to see that. ‘What the hell are you doing here? And, congratulations on the promotion I guess.’

He doesn’t even know why he’s out here. That he’s hunting me, and the woman he’s locked up is only the bait. ‘It’s a long story. To keep it short, you’re holding my girlfriend, who hasn’t committed any crime under Imperial law.’ That the courts are aware of, anyway.

‘Really? Blackmire said we were hunting an extremely dangerous criminal, and that this woman was her accomplice.’ Half truths, but overblown. I am dangerous, butuntil this – I’d done everything in my power not to disturb The Empire while I ran away, precisely so I could fall down their list of priorities as time went on.

‘You and I both know Blackmire says a lot of things that aren’t true.’ Doesn’t seem like he’s changed much, I feel confident saying that. Stillwater’s looking a lot less hostile. ‘I want to get off you so we can have a less constrained conversation. Would you mind me taking off your gauntlet just to be sure you can’t trigger the alarm?’

‘Heh, it really is you Tarani; never known anyone else that anal. Yeah, go ahead.’ Designs on the armour haven’t changed at all, still know the procedures like the back of my hand. Jaxon can hold onto this. ‘I...don’t necessarily not believe you, but it’d be disobeying direct orders to let her go. You know I can’t just do that.’ He said I looked haggard, but serving under Blackmire has put him through the ringer now that I’m looking at him.

‘Stillwater, I haven’t been entirely honest so far. I deserted five years ago. My commanding officer was going to murder a child, and I stopped her.’ Shock, disbelief. Betrayal. I can see the whole process playing out behind his eyes. ‘I’ve learned a lot of things as a civilian, and one of the most important has been that The Empire doesn’t care. Not about you, not about me. The whole reason you’re out here is because Blackmire’s a stupid petty bastard who’s been holding onto a two decade grudge.’

‘Two decade – we’re hunting you?! I can’t – that’s not...Give me a second to think about this Tarani.’ Stillwater was always a good soldier, and a good man. If there’s anything left of the him I knew that hasn’t been stamped down into nothingness by The Empire, we should be able to come to an agreement. If he’s headed down the same path I went, maybe I can even save him some time.

‘Alright, I get it. Blackmire’s been working us like dogs telling us we’re hot on the heels of an extremely dangerous criminal for the last six months. You are dangerous, and you are a criminal, technically – but you haven’t done anything since you deserted to warrant this.’ I knew he’d listen to reason. ‘I’m the second in command; squad leader, and I have the authority to declare this whole mission a waste of resources. I can’t imagine anyone but him complaining about it.’

If he won’t be able to come after me, maybe I can even let Blackmire go. As much as he has it coming, killing him would certainly undermine my position of not being worth pursuing. ‘Here’s the key card. I’ll pretend I didn’t see this, wipe the security footage, and you two can go home. With your girl gone, I’ll be able to call this off tomorrow morning. He’d need a real miracle to get permission to hunt you down a second time.’

Finally, I’ll be able to be done with The Empire. No more ghosts left to haunt me. Lock glides smoothly, let’s go home. ‘Oh, uhh, good evening sir. I was just-’ Blaster shots. One after the other. A double tap, but ringing out in slow motion. Stillwater’s falling. I have a moment, but I can’t seize it. All the well oiled machinery I’ve maintained for years is seizing up – the gears coated in despair. So this is how that feels. Can barely take my helmet back from Jaxon. It can’t protect me from the pain anyway.

IV

‘I never liked Stillwater anyway. Good to finally have an excuse; he reminded me of you.’ One more shot, to the head. His own man. ‘Nice to see you again Tarani, right on schedule. I’m sure you’re dull-wittedly attempting to comprehend how I figured out you were here.’ Now I want to kill him again. ‘It’s really rather quite simple: your teary eyed reunion with your old comrade here was so loud that I came to investigate while I was getting ready for bed.’

Footsteps coming down the hallway, the rest of the squad. Damn it, we’re trapped. I could maybe survive if I started shooting right this second, my armour would be obliterated but just might hold – but Jaxon and Brayli would be easy targets. ‘Hold your fire men. This is our target, but the hunt has been a long time coming. I want to savour it.’ Of course. The only thing worse than him killing me is him gloating about it first.

‘Before I kill you, and make no mistake: you will be dying here, and I will be delivering the killing blow – I feel it only appropriate that we do a little catching up!’ Condescension dripping from his mouth. It would almost be worth getting shot up just to kill him while it happens.

‘After you destroyed my career prospects, I was a broken man. I fell deep into a pit of existential ennui. Vice after vice I ran through to forget the pain of my shame, spending thousands upon thousands of credits when all I needed was time. Time for the emotions to fade away. All but one: hate.’ A familiar sounding trajectory.

‘I kept abreast of your exploits, even the ones that were supposed to be classified – not like the Imperial bureaucracy did a good job of hiding it. Despising you was the only thing keeping me going, for years. Watching you gain my glory, with my Troopers – stealing the recognition I deserved!’ Obsession, single minded fixation, self destruction. I’ve heard it all.

‘But then – then I was blessed with good fortune. You. Screwed. Up. Finally you fell to the level of a common Trooper. Even I didn’t have the credits and contacts to dig up the details on that incident, but I was nonetheless presented with a plain truth: my arch nemesis, the one and only person in this world who truly rose to deserve my scorn – was now an enemy of the state.’ Troopers are getting restless.

Just by the way they’re assembled I can tell he doesn’t engender any real loyalty, just the lash of authority. If one decides to cut this short and blast me, maybe I can take advantage of the confusion. ‘So I spent five years clawing my way back in. Looking up what – exactly – the conditions of my verdict were, finding the one loophole I could jump through, and throwing myself into my work to make it happen.’

‘In a way, I suppose I have to thank you. With the prospect of finally being here at the end of the tunnel, I truly put in my finest work for The Empire on the path to this very moment. They say a poor craftsman blames his tools, but let me just say now: these degenerates certainly weren’t much help.’ He doesn’t even realize how delusional he sounds. His body looks well into his sixties: graying hair, slumped posture, sunken in eyes. Everything thrown into the furnace of obsession because he just couldn’t let the past go. Two weeks ago I wouldn’t even have recognized anything wrong with it.

‘And now that I’ve taken the opportunity to thoroughly appreciate this moment, there is the unfortunate matter of that armour of yours. I don’t know precisely how many shots it would take to kill you with this ceremonial sidearm, and so I must make use of my underlings. Please riddle her with blaster fire now. You don’t even have to avoid shooting the other two, so it should be something you louts are capable of.’ Just from their body language I can tell they don’t want to do it.

I’d be doubtful if any more of them ever served with me, but with how much abuse he’s put himself through, I can only assume this is a tiny fraction of the abuse he’s heaped on them. That’s it. This is the longest shot I’ve ever tried for, but I’ve got a lot of practice.

‘Belay that order Troopers. As a member of the Purge Corps, I outrank him.’ A ridiculous assertion. Completely absurd, I modified this armour until I could plainly recite at least half a dozen dress code violations from memory. Then again, most people don’t read their manuals.

A dry chuckle, apathetic shrugs of the shoulders. Even a knowing elbow jab between comrades. Direct hit. ‘Don’t – this is – Are you all stupid?! Did you take turns shooting each other in the head when I wasn’t looking?! When was the last time you saw a uniform that was painted fucking purple?! Shower her with blaster fire now!’

‘I dunno sir, the silhouette lines up. Looks like a Purge Trooper to me. Don’t really get to see them too often, maybe those are just ceremonial decorations.’ This is a complete farce and they know it, but it’s been a long time coming. Just need to give them enough plausible deniability to escape a court marshalling.

‘In the wake of your squad leader’s death, I’m taking temporary command of this squadron. I’ll need to have a discussion with Bounty Acquisition Agent Blackmire to determine an appropriate course of action. Please do not disturb us. Dismissed.’ They’re filing through the door. The brig is closed. Just the four of us.

V

To his credit, I figured he’d be a lot more cowardly without his Troops. He managed to get a shot off before I got control of his wrist – it tickled. Finally I get to settle things. This stupid grudge that he’s kept burning for more than half my life. That he threw all of himself into. Only thirty five, but already a frail old man with nothing left. ‘Go on then Tarani, I never figured you for the gloating type. Do it. Kill me already.’ He’s pathetic.

I pity him. I’ve never understood that emotion before, but here it is. ‘Oh come on, don’t tell me you aren’t holding yourself back from it right now, savouring the moment just like I was.’ He’s been living in my shadow for decades. One event he refused to move on from. Looking at him is like looking into a mirror. A dark, twisted, broken mirror.

‘Do it! Settle the score! Fell the one and only person to ever rival you!’ I settled this grudge fifteen years ago, in the courthouse. This doesn’t mean a damn thing to me any more. I already won. Killing him would just let him salvage his dignity. He thinks we’re rivals? What a joke. I almost feel bad about it, but I can’t help laughing.

‘Get out of here Anton. It’s over. I’ve beaten you twice already, go do something with your life that doesn’t revolve around me.’ Doubt he’ll take that advice, but figure it’s the least I can do to give it to him.

‘You’re making a mistake Tarani! You’ve gone soft, and I’ll be back with an ar-’ A blaster shot. Another one. Brayli’s firing them. I was trying to be nice, but I can’t quite say I’m torn up about this. I didn’t want to do it, but if I’ve ever met anyone who deserved a few to the chest; it was Blackmire.

Not bad center of mass shots, though it’s pretty hard to miss at this range. Doubt he had any armour under his uniform, but I can’t fault her for making sure. She’s still going. He’s not even twitching any more. Maybe I should grab the blaster before it overheats, burns her fingers.

‘Sorry sugar. I know you were having a moment, but that scrawny sack of shit trashed my apartment and held me here all night. Even worse, he did it to hurt you. Nobody hurts my girlfriend.’ If we were alone I’d make love to her on the spot.

‘No – now that I think about it; you were right. I was letting my emotions get the better of me, still getting used to listening to them. This was never going to end without one of us dead.’ He doesn’t even have the quiet dignity most corpses do. Hopefully he’s at least a good meal for the carrion animals. A knock at the door.

‘Just checking in, everything good in there? Sounds like your meeting’s over.’ I suppose I have to keep up the charade so they can make a good report. Doubt they need any convincing, so let’s go with the standard protocol for covering up an assassination.

‘Yes. Blackmire’s blaster suffered a spontaneous discharge, and from there; a chain reaction. I suspect it was due to poor maintenance. He was dead before he hit the ground, so I didn’t bother calling for a medic.’ There, those are all the keywords officers like to hear before sweeping an incident under the rug.

‘Ah, I see. Sorry to hear it. Guess I’m in charge once you head out then?’ Ambitious. Hopefully he has better things to do than chase ghosts. Purge Trooper Tarani is dead, after all. I just share a name with her.

‘Before I relinquish command, I have one order. Ensure Stillwater receives a suitable burial.’ Tight, earnest salute. Probably the first one this soldier’s given in years. Never thought I’d be relieved to step out of an Imperial ship onto loose sand. Don’t even need to give the signal, Brayli’s the reason we came here. Seeing us hanging off of each other should get the point across.

VI

Can hear the engine starting up behind us. After spending long enough around them, I learned to identify each Imperial ship by sound. Hopefully I never hear another one again. Vranki and her girls are coming out from behind the dune. ‘Koben! Not a bad job by the looks of things. I don’t even see any blood on you, which is a first. I trust The Empire is out of our hair?’

Ever the pragmatist. A nod will suffice. ‘It’s done. It’s also late. I’d like to invite you all to my house. It’s very sparsely furnished, and out in the middle of nowhere – but I recently made some renovations on it and I’d be honoured if you all came and saw them.’

Odd stares from the girls. Jaxon understands what I’m trying to say. ‘Yeah, I’d love to swing by your place, for a little while anyway. Do kinda gotta be back at the manor at some point though.’ With how much time he’s no doubt spending trying to establish his rule over his new men, I almost feel bad for bringing him along, especially since he didn’t even get to shoot anybody. Like he said though, that’s what friends are for.

‘Now that you mention it sugar, it is getting pretty late. I suppose I’ll just have to stay the night at your place.’ Am I so easy to read, even through the helmet? That’s exactly what I had planned. It’s pitch black out, but that smile of hers is so bright it might as well be a fourth sun.

‘This is sounding like more of a friend’s only affair. I think my girls would like to get back to civilization, to the extent that Dunton qualifies – and I feel like visiting your personal abode might be overstepping the bounds of our professional relationship. Let me make a call.’ I won’t push her. She worded it politely, but there was a firmness to her tone. She’s still a crime boss after all.

Good to see Jaxon’s speeder truck. Not enough room for three in the front, but plenty of room in the back. ‘Jaxon, does that truck have a separator between the compartments? Brayli and I could use some privacy. I’ll plug in the address before we go, but it’s a long drive.’ I suppose Jaxon must have read that as an innuendo. My fault. All I wanted to do was cuddle, but this gonkrock isn’t bad listening.

I’ve never felt this good before. There have been a lot of highs lately, but even while I was enjoying them there was a little part of me that was doing damage control for when it eventually came crashing down. I think I left it back on the ship, with Blackmire. Can’t think of a situation where I’d ever need it again. That’s what these two are for.

END

#my oc #oc #star wars #writing #koben tarani #cw: death #cw: violence #sapphic #transgender

[scrumpledorph-writes]

Koben’s Responsibility (Learning To Share It)

I

I have to get her back. That’s exactly what he knows I’m going to do, but that doesn’t mean I have any other option. I’m the reason this happened to her. The odds are stacked against me, but Blackmire’s the one doing the counting – and he bribed his way through the academy; so I have a chance. I hope she’s alright.

He probably thinks I’ve gone soft. Tried to put the life behind me like so many deserters do. He’s expecting a haggard, rusty old washout to get gunned down by a single bodyguard detachment – eight at the most if I had to guess. Nothing I can’t handle. Why’d he have to bring Brayli into this?

If he had the intel to find where she lived, he must have been able to track me down too. He said he was working with Huxley, so he must have had the opportunity. It must be about hurting me. It’s not enough for him to kill me, or take me in, he’s trying to make me suffer first. I’ll repay him tenfold.

How should I do it? He’s definitely earned more than a blaster bolt at this point. Knife; gut him like a piece of game? Still too professional. Need to use my hands. Beat that smug face of his inside out? Closer, getting there. He’ll probably find a way to take the fun out of it if I let him talk. I’m getting ahead of myself.

This is going to be a delicate operation. Me getting so angry I don’t think this through is exactly what he’ll be banking on. Have to keep a cool head, hard as it is. I can’t assume he’s still incompetent, it’s been over a decade. Not enough information to form a proper plan from, so I’ll need to do reconnaissance first.

I’ll need equipment for that. Specialized equipment; mine works well for general purposes, but considering he has an entrenched position with advanced notice – a long range blaster at the very least so I can pick a few off before they see me. Should probably get some thicker thermal weave for the assault, and something to help my armour not stick out so much against the desert backdrop. Vranki can get it for me.

II

Forgot I’ve never been here in my civilian clothes, good thing the doorman recognized my voice. She must’ve sent word to the guards, they’re not even giving me a second glance. Not sure if she’s arrogant or prudent for making the path to her office a straight line, but right now I certainly appreciate it. Her operation might be small, and she doesn’t take this seriously enough to last, but right now all I need are connections – and nowhere fosters those better than a whorehouse.

‘Trooper! So nice to see you again, you’ve been the talk of the underworld!’ How could I forget? Being with Brayli made it feel so distant, but just a few days ago I was involved in the death of a major crime boss. Talk must have rippled out from that event in waves strong enough to drown out every other topic for miles – maybe even across the system.

‘I don’t have time to talk about that right now Vranki I-’ ‘No, we’re at the beginning of a beautiful working relationship, so I need to at least address the Rancor in the room.’ She’s never cut me off before, but fine. She must know I’m desperate right now, and she’s just holding it over me.

‘I run a small time operation, but not so small I haven’t been informed of your name and bounty. You’ve racked up a very fat reward on your head, and I asked my men how many would be interested in cashing in.’ This was a mistake. Even if I need help, how could I be so stupid? I just walked into the same trap as before, and there weren’t even credits to bait it this time. At least it’s just us in here – and I brought my sidearm. If she makes a move, I’m fast enough to take her down.

‘I’m currently understaffed, because I fired everyone who said they thought it was a good idea.’ I know she has a bit of a dramatic streak, but she really could’ve led with that. ‘You’re worth far more to me than a lump sum hundred thousand credits, Trooper – and I don’t need people in my operation who aren’t capable of seeing that. Do you still want me to call you that, by the way? Your name rolls off the tongue better, if you don’t mind me saying.’ That’s a lot more pragmatic than I was expecting from her. Maybe she does have what it takes to make it in this business.

‘Thank you. I guess if my secret’s out, you might as well drop the code name. It’s started to chafe lately anyway.’ A shocking relief, but in hindsight it makes sense. I always figured she just did it as a negotiation tactic, but she’s praised my work every time we’ve interacted. A tight, professional smile. A long way from Brayli’s, but at least more genuine than Huxley’s.

‘Now then, what can I help you with, Koben?’ ‘The Empire took my girlfriend hostage. I need-’ ‘The Empire? You’re completely sure, it’s not some gang doing a frame up to cover their tracks?’ Just saying the words flipped a switch in her, her body language, expression – even intonation changed. She’s never leaned forward over her desk while talking to me before. Finally something she takes seriously.

‘I’m sure. One of my old officers left me a message taunting me after he did it. I need a long range blaster, stealth suit, and reinforced padding. I can pay up to seventy thousand credits, and I need them as soon as possible.’ Anton didn’t mention a time frame, but knowing him; he’ll hold onto Brayli as long as it takes for me to show up.

‘What exactly is it that you’re planning to do with all this advanced equipment?’ No use keeping it from her at this point. ‘I’m going to assault his ship by myself, as soon as I have them.’ Nobody else I can ask to do this. It’s my past, my fight, my responsibility.

‘Koben, dear, I know this must make me sound like an absolute bleeding heart right now, but I can’t let you go through with that.’ She’s right about one of those things at least. ‘I’m going to rescue her, and if you’re not willing to sell me the equipment then I’ll make do without it.’ This really isn’t like her at all. I’d figured she’d have been happy to charge me as much for this equipment as she could manage to say it cost her with a straight face.

It doesn’t matter. I suppose I still have that one little slimeball’s number. It’d take a while, but maybe I could sift through his inventory for a workable assassin blaster if nothing else. ‘I can’t get you that gear, but I’m willing to help in whatever way I can. I just told you that you’re no good to me dead, and more than that – I know what happens if The Empire is allowed to get their foot in the door without being beaten back.’

So this is motivated by self interest. Fine then, I can let her take on the consequences if she refuses not to – she has something to gain after all. I suppose she’s not entirely wrong either, this is a daunting task. ‘Fine. What way do you think you can help? I’ve never counted more than a dozen gun hands in here, and I doubt that one you keep out front could hit a star destroyer at point blank.’

‘Well that’s a rather sharp dressing down – but I suppose it is accurate. That being said, if it is Stormtroopers we’re dealing with, then I happen to know one of their biggest weaknesses.’ I can’t imagine what she could know about them that I don’t already. I know the specs of their blasters, what points of their armour are weak, and their average psychological profile. ‘What would that be?’

‘Women.’ Figures. Though, now that she says it; actually very true. ‘You’re very good at what you do – by underworld standards. We’re not operating on underworld standards right now though: we’re talking about the Imperial military. You think like a hammer, and all you see are nails. What you need to get this done is a little subterfuge.’

She’s right, as much as I hate to admit it. These aren’t just gangsters, I can’t expect to have a single chance advantage. No faulty blasters, inattention, or flinching in the face of fear to exploit. Every Trooper I don’t have to deal with improves my odds dramatically.

‘So, what, you’re going to distract them with prostitutes? That sounds dangerous for the women.’ I’d hate to see them get hurt on account of a fight they’re not even part of. I don’t know how I’d even be able to make it up to them if it happened.

‘I’ll put out a volunteer call, won’t force anybody. I’m sure I’ll have plenty of eager candidates, The Empire has a tendency of hurting people.’ Guess I can’t argue there. ‘I know how much they like to stand around and look tough; I’ll have the girls wander off with whoever’s guarding the doors. That fabric under your plates isn’t puncture proof, is it?’ This is coming together a lot better than I was expecting. Quick shake of the head.

‘I figured, but I just wanted to be sure. Anyway, once that’s done, then you can slip inside and get to work. How’s that sound?’ Good. Really good, breaching the ship without setting off alarms is an increase to my success chances dramatically higher than just taking out two Troopers. Though, I do have to wonder how she has such an accurate picture of how we operate.

‘How do you know so much about how Imperial troops function? I’ve thought once or twice now that you used to be an officer, but you seem too casual for that to be the case.’ It would explain a rigour for administration, but the joviality she carries is far in excess of what would be left after a military career, to say nothing of the crackdown on her for going rogue.

‘You’re half right. My husband used to be the colonial administrator on this planet, replacing a man who was gunned down by gangsters in his own bed. He died in a tragic speeder explosion when his was sabotaged after a visit to the bar, and was succeeded by a man who didn’t even reach the colonial office before he was kidnapped and buried alive up to his neck out on the dunes – or so I’ve heard.’

There does seem to be an exceptionally entrenched criminal element around here, I can’t say I’m surprised to hear they resisted Imperial occupation efforts. I picked this planet precisely because it was a remote, worthless dustball; I can’t imagine they devoted too many resources to trying to bring it under control when there were more important fights to dedicate them to. ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

‘Oh don’t be, that all wrapped up a good seven years ago, and it wasn’t the happiest marriage the galaxy’s ever seen.’ I can imagine her being a lot to live with. ‘The point is, after they cut their losses with the third one – I learned a very important lesson: The Empire isn’t welcome around here. So I faked my death – really easy when nobody’s checking up on you – and decided to start playing by the local rules.’

I have to give her credit, that’s a lot more shrewd than I thought she was capable of. Maybe she’s a good long term bet after all. ‘So not only are you familiar, you have a lot of reason to keep The Empire off world?’ She may not technically have ever been an officer herself, but no doubt she’d get at least a capital penalty for everything she’s done if they ever caught her.

‘You got it. That’s without even getting into all the other factors: keeping you from martyring yourself for the sake of your deathwish, what it would do to my credibility for my best enforcer’s girl to get kidnapped on my turf without me responding, and the fact that pretty much every organized criminal on the planet will appreciate me being the one who gave them the boot this time.’ Suppose I can’t argue with that.

She’s right, I was being stupid trying to do this myself. It doesn’t matter that it’s my fault, Brayli’s the one who’s going to suffer. I need to pull out all the stops for this – call in every favour I have. That’s not many, but every one is better than nothing. ‘Thanks. When can I expect you to be ready? I have a couple more calls to make.’

‘Well, look at you; little enterprising underworlder – building up a contact network. Shouldn’t be longer than an hour to get the girls ready, you go do your thing.’ She chafes me a little around the edges sometimes, but this really does mean a lot to me – even if it means less to her. I’m even smiling at her, but now it’s time for some fresh air.

III

It’s getting late, but Jaxon doesn’t strike me as someone who’s in bed early. ‘Oh, hey Koben! Nice to see you, what’s up?’ I can talk while I head home, gonna need the whole armoury for this. ‘Jaxon, I’m sorry I don’t have time for pleasantries, but Brayli’s been kidnapped – by The Empire. I need your help to get her back.’ This is a big ask considering what he already gave up for me. If it were anything less I wouldn’t ask him to do it – he killed his own father for me. But Brayli’s worth it.

‘Holy shit – Koben...Yeah, whatever you need. I’ve got a couple small starfighters, I can send a few dozen men, and feel free to borrow whatever gear you need.’ Just like that. He’s a good man. Would it be vain to think he gets some of it from me? I’m sure I helped a little, at least.

‘This is going to be a small scale operation. I tentatively have infiltration covered, but I could use someone to watch my back once I’m inside.’ Want to avoid a big shootout if possible; more blasters means more stray shots – and a higher chance that Brayli gets caught in the crossfire.

‘What – you mean, like, me? Koben, I’d be honoured! Yeah, I’ll get my gear and come right over. Do you mind if I record this? The forum guys would go insane if they saw me fighting with you!’ There’s no other trigger man I trust. For that, he can do whatever he wants. Kind of figured he’d be too busy for that dumb thing now that he’s a crime boss though.

‘Yeah, go ahead. And...thank you. Really, it means a lot. I know you’ve already done a ton for me – and I have no idea how I’ll ever repay you.’ If I spent the rest of my life until I died of old age fulfilling kill orders to pay him and Vranki back for this it’d be worth it. Just as long as Brayli’s safe.

‘Don’t worry about it, that’s what friends are for.’

#my oc #oc #star wars #writing #koben tarani

[scrumpledorph-writes]

Koben’s Return Home (It Is A Home Now)

I

These last few days have felt like no more than a few hours. I didn’t even think to ask Brayli if it was alright to stay at her apartment for this long, and she hasn’t brought the subject up either. Still, I’ve had enough time to heal, and I’d hate to make her late for work tomorrow – it’s about time I packed up my things and headed home. We can always visit, or holo-chat, or leave each other messages. Maybe I can even host her at my place, if she’d like to see the dunes.

‘I’ve had a wonderful time, but with all of my things here, your apartment is starting to feel rather small. I should take them back home, and considering how hard some of these would be to replace, I should probably stay with them too.’ That sounds like you’re never planning to leave. ‘Oh, but – I don’t need to watch them all the time. I’ll come to visit, of course; you know that my work schedule is flexible.’ That gentle smile, same as always.

‘Don’t worry sugar, I getcha. Y’ain’t gotta justify needing some alone time. I know I can be a lot sometimes.’ ‘You’re exactly as much as I want.’ For all she’s done for me, the least I owe her is to tell her exactly how much she means to me, every opportunity I get.

‘Thanks, sugar. Though, next time you show up at my door – try to do it conscious, okay?’ She always knows how to make my worries feel like they’re nothing at all. ‘I’ll try my best. Considering that and the bounty hunter incident, I must look pretty bad at my job.’ ‘Nah. I know how someone who’s bad at your job looks sugar.’ ‘Which is?’ ‘Through a cybereye, if they’re lucky.’ If one of my squadmates made that joke I’d have just rolled my eyes, but I can’t help laughing at it from her.

‘Oh, yeah, one last thing sugar; I made you something.’ ‘When did you manage that? We’ve barely spent an hour apart since I arrived.’ ‘I made it last week. I – well, I kinda figured I wouldn’t see you again, so I wanted something to remind myself of you.’ She really is too good for me. I can almost feel tears welling up just hearing her say that. ‘I see. I never would have thought to do something like that, but I’d love to see it.’ ‘Yeah, I put it away to not ruin the surprise, lemme go grab it real quick.’

This isn’t like her usual sculptures. Her art certainly isn’t anything I’d see in an Imperial gallery, but it communicates its subject adequately. This just looks like a sheet of off colour glass shards glued together on a stand. ‘I appreciate it, the fact that you made it, and that you want me to have it means more to me than I can describe – but I don’t really know what it is.’ ‘Here sugar, hold it up facing the wall.’ Oh. It’s beautiful.

‘Even under that big suit of yours, I could tell you really seemed to be enjoying the sunset on our first date. It obviously doesn’t look quite as majestic, but-’ I can’t possibly do anything but kiss her after she made me something so beautiful. She made it out of love; broke off a little piece of herself for me to keep forever, and that makes it her best work. I’ll have to find a way to do the same for her some day. Maybe I should take up carving, I keep my knife plenty sharp.

‘I love it. I love you. Thank you so much for making it. I’ll put up a shelf under the window so I can see the light shine through it every night.’ ‘No problem sugar. Anyway, last sun’s going down – you should probably get going.’ If we said everything we wanted to I don’t think I’d ever get to leave. There’ll be time to later. We have all the time in the galaxy now. ‘Agreed, call me when you’re off work tomorrow.’

Barely have enough room for all these things in my speeder. For not having a license, Jaxon drives pretty well. Can’t see any damage that couldn’t be explained by regular desert sands scraping across it. I’m sure Brayli has opinions on how to keep one in good working order, and it would certainly be a benefit to know – I should ask her some time.

Still not used to driving across these dunes without my helmet on. On the one hand, it’s nice to see what they look like without that pinkish tinge of the visor – on the other, all this dry wind in my eyes is horrible. Definitely not a fan of open topped vehicles. I should buy some goggles, but for now I’ll just wear the helmet the rest of the way.

Feels different to wear it now, thinking on it. Isn’t as comfortable as it used to be, but I’ve felt more comfortable with it off lately – guess I’m finally growing out of it. Wistful sentimentality aside, it still offers very good protection; and my line of work requires that. Maybe that repaint I’ve been thinking of will help.

Back at the house. It looks just like I left it: empty. Easy to get everything put back into place, especially with how little space it all takes up. At least I have one thing to help fill it, and it almost reaches the window if I put it on the trunk. Good enough for now. I’ve never really paid much mind to how my living quarters looked before. I guess that’s what makes somewhere home.

II

For as nice as it was to cuddle her to sleep, Brayli’s bed didn’t do me any favours. Good to spend the night in mine. If I could get her waking up in it with me, that would be ideal – wouldn’t want to put her through the commute to work though. I tentatively own as much of the area around this house as I bother to claim, so we could just build a speeder garage out here, but then she’d probably have no customers. I should talk to her about this some time.

Have enough credits for the foreseeable future, so I can spend the day on more menial tasks. Already got my armour patched up at her place, but I’ve been too busy to check my messages lately. Brayli sent me a lot last week. One every day. We’re together again, no reason to listen to them; it’d just be hurting myself over nothing, and I’m sick of doing that.

Oh! Those reinforced doors and windows finally arrived, perfect. No more shutters blowing open late at night, and I can’t imagine anyone getting through these without waking me up. If customizing your house makes it home, then I guess I’m still most at home in a fortress. Waiting for pickup, but I should call ahead just so I can make sure they’re waiting for me on arrival.

‘Herbo’s Home Hardware, whaddaya need?’ ‘I’m calling about an order for a steel reinforced door, lock, and shutter set. I received a message that they were ready for pickup a few days ago, but I was too busy at the time. My apologies.’ ‘Hey no problem lady, half the time we only find out a customer won’t be picking up when we see their name in the obits.’ He’s laughing, but given how violent things seem to be around here I’m not sure that was a joke. On the other hand, I am a bounty killer, so my perspective might be skewed.

‘I’m realizing I don’t have a speeder truck to pick them up with. Is there any way I could rent one?’ ‘We deliver for a fee.’ They’re civilians, but I really don’t want to leave any more of a paper trail than I already have. Better to never need these upgrades in the first place if I can manage it. ‘No, that’s unnecessary. I can pick them up myself, unload them, then return the truck.’

‘What, were you planning to install them yourself too? You know you already paid for the work, right? No refunds, by the way.’ That would be difficult, I never took structural engineering. How do I phrase this request without being too obvious?

‘Can I ask that your men ride in the back of the truck with the merchandise while I drive, then I’ll return them the same way?’ This is getting convoluted. ‘Okay lady, I think I’m starting to pick up what you’re putting down. You’re one of those discrete types, right?’ ‘Correct.’ I should have figured they’d have accommodations for underworld customers around here.

‘Right, gotcha – say no more. Yeah it’s an extra fee, but you can have the work done by droids. They drive out, do the job, come back, we wipe their memory banks. No muss, no fuss.’ Can hardly ask for more discretion than that, short of destroying the droids; and I don’t think that would be good for my professional reputation.

‘That sounds perfect, how much is that extra fee?’ ‘A thousand credits.’ Of course, borderline extortion. The original charge was only three hundred. I suppose it’s a fair price to pay for peace of mind. ‘I accept. When would you like the payment?’

‘Just leave the credits in the truck and plug in an address, they’ll drive there and do the work. You don’t even need to be home.’ I don’t like the sound of unsupervised droids, not looking to get two timed again.

‘I’d prefer to drive them here and supervise their work.’ ‘Suit yourself lady, doesn’t matter to me. I just work the front counter.’ Their chain of command has a very weak link. ‘In that case, I should be there within half an hour. Goodbye.’

While I’m thinking of customizing this place, I am starting to miss the crowded, lived in feel of Brayli’s apartment. I’d reign it in a fair amount, bumping into things in the dark wasn’t any fun, but just being able to stare from wall to ceiling to floor in almost every direction from the center of the room feels...hollow, now that I know what other options there are. I should buy some furniture while I’m out.

III

This place is, well, it’s what’s available I suppose. Used to bigger depots and warehouses for this sort of thing, but I guess I’m not done tempering my expectations for a planet this far out. ‘Hey there, you picking up the doors?’ ‘I am. Before I do, I’d like to see if you have a few other items I need.’ ‘Course, no rush, take your time.’

I just realized: everything I ordered is stainless steel, that’ll be corroded beyond recognition within a year. Need to paint them, but not sure what colour I should use. Freshly painted doors would also probably look out of place next to the aging stone, which means that would need painting too. I should call Brayli, ask her what she’d like.

Never actually called her while she was in the shop before. I don’t think she’ll mind, but I do hope she’s free to talk. ‘Hey sugar, what’s up?’ ‘I’m sorry to bother you while you’re at work, are you available for an involved conversation right now?’ I know that mechanical work can be very intensive.

‘Sure, you caught me during some diagnostic tests. What’d you want to talk about?’ Usually mechanics would shoo me away during diagnostic work – said they needed to focus. Maybe she’s just that good. ‘I need to buy paint for my new doors to keep them from corroding, and I think that would make them look out of place without also painting the rest of the exterior. I wanted your opinion on what colours you think I should buy.’

‘Aww, sugar – I’m flattered. I’m not much of a painter though.’ ‘Really? I figured with your work in speeders you’d have some opinions.’ The other thing mechanics always used to do was complain about the aesthetics of Imperial vehicles. I always thought they looked fine.

‘I’ve got some time, we can brainstorm. What’re you hoping for, what colors do you like?’ That’s a good question. The exterior does serve a practical purpose – it’d be good for it to blend in with the surrounding sands to make it harder to spot from a distance or during an overhead scan. The inside I could really do anything with.

‘I just figured out the exterior, I’m going to go with a sandy colour. Talking to you about it did help though, so thank you for that. The inside I don’t have very strong opinions on. What would you like?’ Maybe we could paint it up like an ocean, remind her of home.

‘Aww, well, it’s your place sugar, I wouldn’t want to be making decisions for you.’ She doesn’t seem to realize how much she factors into these decisions. ‘I want it to be your place too some day, or at least to have you come over and enjoy it with me sometimes.’

‘Wow, really? I mean, that’s really sweet sugar, don’t get me wrong – but I kinda figured you liked having your own little space to go back to.’ Experiencing her home made me realize just how little there was to mine. I want nothing more than to welcome her into it.

‘Spending the last two days with you made me realize just how empty my life was, and my home is a part of that. I want you to help me fill it in – that ornament was a start, but if there’s anything I can do to make you feel more welcome in it; please tell me.’

I hope that didn’t come across too strong. I mean, I know how much we talked and cuddled and all that stuff, but- she’s smiling even wider than usual. She understands. ‘Well, if that’s the case sugar – and I know this is maybe a bit cliche – but maybe some ocean blues? Dark floor, medium walls, light ceiling?’

That sounds beautiful. ‘I’d love to. I was only expecting to have to do one colour though, this is sounding like a two person job.’ It’d make a lovely excuse for a date, and to show her my place for the first time.

‘I guess it does, sugar. Pick up the paint, we can do it on my next day off.’ Maybe I should hold off on the other decorations until after we’ve painted. I don’t exactly have anywhere to put them other than directly onto the sand or in my speeder. I can still do some looking around, see if anything speaks to me.

‘Oh, while we’re talking; I was hoping to see you tonight. I’ve already gotten settled in back home, and without work, my schedule is very open.’ I hope she doesn’t mind how much I want to see her. She’s laughing, so it doesn’t seem like it.

‘Sure thing, drop by tonight. We can think of something to do. Gotta go now, tests are wrapping up; which means I’ve gotta get back to actual work. Bye sugar.’ Maybe we can finally get around to that holovid, I think I’ve gotten used to her enough that I can focus on something other than her when we’re in the same room. Now, back to shopping.

IV

Got the paint – interior and exterior – loaded in with the droids, alongside a doormat. I’d been getting tired of tracking sand in, and “Live Laugh Love” is a concise summation of everything I’ve been forbidden from doing for so long. Having a reminder every time I come home should really help.

There were plenty of other trinkets; a little Hoth snowglobe, a physical calendar with small, furred native fauna from a variety of planets, and a charming framed picture of a Twi’lek family. Not sure why that specific family was chosen, but they look nice enough. Maybe once the painting is done I’ll see about buying them.

The droids seem more rudimentary than I was originally expecting, I don’t think they’d be capable of spying on me even if I weren’t watching them. Still, best not to take any chances. Glad they let me rent painting equipment, I don’t exactly have a lot of storage space to accrue miscellaneous tools. Maybe I should see about having a shed built some day.

Here we are. Flick the droids on, and according to the instructions; just give them a command and watch them work. ‘I need this door and these shutters installed on that house.’ Do they even have the dexterity to accomplish something like that? They each only seem to have one manipulator, and they’re so small that I’d half expect their three legs to break if they tried to lift the door – but I guess that’s why there’s so many of them. Guess I’ll just have to see.

Wow, they must have some serious custom programming to work so well in concert like that. Maybe that surcharge isn’t even a simple matter of extortion, but covering the potential replacement cost of these things if they get damaged. I suppose I can start bringing the paint in while they work.

These cans can just go in the corner. They certainly don’t help the place feel more lived in – now it looks even more like a storage facility, but that’ll all be over once Brayli and I get it painted. Maybe I should buy some snacks for when she comes over, surprise her with a nice lunch out on the sand.

I should have bought one of those picnic blankets. I’ll bet sitting on hot sand for an extended period would really dry out her skin. Even I probably wouldn’t find it too comfortable unless I was armoured, and that would likely dampen the romance. I can just use my blanket, shake it out thoroughly before bringing it back in. Not fancy, but it’ll do.

I should also probably give the inside a thorough cleaning too. I know it’s already cleaner than she keeps her place, but the old shutters let sand blow in from time to time. That’ll be a thing of the past once these droids are done. I should go check up on their work.

Solid work, consistent pace, navigating the sand well. A lot more effective than I was expecting, I really underestimated them. Door’s already installed, I can start painting that. Start with the brush, see how much I can cover – use the little cans of spray paint for everything else. Simple, menial work.

It’s nice to do something productive with my hands that isn’t violent. I’ve tried to pick up hobbies before, but they just always make me feel restless. Like I’m wasting my time when I could be accomplishing something. Spending time with Brayli doesn’t make me feel that way though. Every second feels well spent with her.

I spent longer than I should have in the store, the heat’s picking up. I’ve never had to worry about it before, the armour is UV sealed, but I might actually get burned. Adapting to the elements is certainly more difficult without the full technological backing of The Empire, but it’s kind of nice. Within a week of setting up shop, anywhere they designated became another stock template base, same as any other.

Seeing the dunes ebb and flow like this is pretty. I didn’t notice them before, but they’re different heights than they were when I moved in. Some of the old sand blows away, some new sand blows in to replace it. Constantly changing, even in just three short weeks. Wish it wouldn’t pile up against the house, but there’s hardly any use trying to sweep sand – even the best Troopers never managed to win that battle.

Getting the hang of this now. Might need to wash my clothes after this though, managed to splatter some paint at the beginning. Seems like the droids are taking a bit longer with the windows, but that gives me time to catch up. This shouldn’t take too long.

V

Wow. It came out great. The paint is just the right shade to blend in with the sand. Dried quickly too, maybe the desert heat helped with that. The droids are done too, so I suppose all that’s left is to give it all a test. Door first, obviously – it’s the most direct path of approach.

Lock glides well, don’t need to fiddle with it like the old one. Key turns easily, and it can take my full weight trivially. Can’t imagine anything short of a rancor bursting through this. Well, of course someone with the right tools could manage it, but I think even a typical breaching charge would only barely get the job done. Shutters next.

Paint made them stick slightly, but after the first few movements they glide like a dream. Shut firmly, don’t open to jostling. Can’t exactly test how well they’ll handle the wind, but they look like they’re designed not to catch it nearly as much as the old ones. Overall, completely satisfied.

Even if the inside is still undecorated, this makes it feel like home. Not just a normal home, my home. Built to weather a thousand storms and hold up to a thousand blaster shots. Just like me. Not only that, but with sensible decisions taking the surroundings into consideration.

I always found ways that the copy and paste base design could be improved, but the officers always said it wasn’t worth the effort. Now that’s my decision to make, and I made it exactly right. I live here, I call the shots. Maybe I should put in a back patio to watch the sunset. I can think about that later – right now I can just take it all in.

What’s this tugging at my pant leg? Oh, right, I do need to get these droids back. Okay, when I get back from that; then I can take it all in. ‘Put the old shutters and door in the back of the truck.’ Hopefully they’ll take all this off my hands, not like I have any use for it.

VI

Can’t believe how complicated it was to get the old parts taken off my hands, that took hours. At least now I know where the recycling center is, and to call ahead. On the bright side, all that took so long that Brayli should be off work. Should I tell her about the renovations, or save it as one big surprise when she finally comes out to visit? I think I’ll let it all hit her at once.

Three quick knocks at her door. No response. She must be in the refresher, that’s fine. I can wait for her. Never really took the time to look at the surrounding complex, I suppose this gives me the chance. It’s decent. Not great, but not in noticeable disrepair. Some spots could do with new paint.

‘Brayli, it’s me – Koben. Could you get the door?’ Still no response. That isn’t like her. Maybe she was so tired after work she took a nap? I should ask her for a key some time. The door is unlocked. That’s definitely not like her, but with how eager I was to see her – maybe she left it open for me figuring I wouldn’t arrive too long after her.

No. Something happened here. The apartment is smashed up, and that’s her blaster lying in the middle of the room. Scorch marks on the walls – light, set to stun. A robbery? In broad daylight? This neighbourhood isn’t that bad. ‘Brayli! Are you in here? It’s me – Koben! You’re safe now.’ The droid’s been swept off the counter, and that datapad looks too new to be from around here. It looks Imperial.

‘Greetings Tarani.’ That voice. ‘I had my men take the liberty of leaving this datapad somewhere prominent enough that even you could find it.’ It can’t be him. ‘Begrudgingly, I must congratulate you for escaping from Huxley Padova.’ How did he find me? ‘I was certain he would kill you, but it appears that you are tougher than even I accounted for.’ Did he spend this long looking?

‘Thus, I have been forced to go after someone with far less fight in them: your girlfriend. How absurd, to see you go native like this. Even as I defeat you, you find a way to undermine my dignity.’ It’s been thirteen fucking years. ‘You will find my ship at the coordinates left on this datapad. That is not an order, or a recommendation, it is a fact – because I know you.’ He held a grudge this long?

‘You will come to rescue your, I’m not even going to dignify whatever you two have with the term – her – and then my compliment of Stormtroopers will kill you.’ He was barred from ever holding rank again, how does he have Stormtroopers? ‘Signing off: Bounty Acquisition Agent Anton Blackmire.’

#my oc #oc #star wars #writing #koben tarani #sapphic #transgender

[scrumpledorph-writes]

Koben’s Release (Unlearning Unhealthy Ideas)

I

Suns are barely creeping up, lights are off, Brayli’s sleeping next to me. It was relaxing being tended to like that, I must have fallen asleep. Can’t feel any uncovered burnt spots, so she must have gotten them all. She looks so beautiful with the sun glistening off her skin like that.

Clock reads six thirteen, later than I usually wake up, but justifiable given the circumstances. Should leave the room for an assessment, let her wake up on her own. Oh, my trunk is here. Everything looks to be in it, including my payment! I completely forgot, I’ll need to thank Jaxon the next time I see him. He’s probably sleeping in now that I’m not waking him up.

Can’t feel any lingering pain, no impairment of movement. Should keep the bandages on, but can at least wear my casual clothes over top. Armour is in exceptionally poor condition, as I expected. Don’t want to go rooting around for something to clean the plates with, and the chest piece wouldn’t fit in her sink anyway. Should really make myself useful to pay her back for letting me stay the night though.

Counter top is a mess of unwashed dishes and crumbs, that’s how you get pests. Cupboards are completely unsorted too, which I could optimize for space, but in order to do that I’d need somewhere to put the things that are in them, which would mean putting them on a dirty counter, which would mean I’d have to clean them, which would defeat half the purpose.

Considering everything’s already dirty, I can put the dishes on the ground, then clean the counter, then sort the cupboards, then put the clean dishes back, then clean the dirty ones, then put them away. Unorthodox, I’ve never had to clean up a proper living area that had gotten this bad – but it should work.

Oh, even the insides of the cupboards are dirty. Not too complicated of a problem, but it does add a step to the beginning of my routine. Just need to grab the cloth and – the cloth is greasy. Another step. Empty the sink, clean the cloth, clean the sink, clean the cloth, clean the counter, clean the cloth, clean the cupboards, clean the cloth, clean the dishes, clean the cloth: easy. Then I can start cleaning.

The soap is dirty, but that’s an easy enough fix I don’t even consider it worth listing. Scrub out these grease stains, wring the cloth out like a traitor’s neck; ready to work. Some of these stains are really ground in, almost fraying the cloth scrubbing them out. It would be nice if I had gloves for this, between cleaning and combat this is harder on the hands. Done with the counters, onto the next step.

‘Mornin’ sugar. Why are all my dishes sitting on the floor?’ She wakes up around seven, good to know. ‘I’m cleaning them.’ ‘On the floor?’ ‘Before I can clean them, I need to clean the cleaning surfaces.’ ‘Why?’ ‘If I clean them on a dirty surface, they’ll be cross contaminated, and then I’ll need to clean them again.’ ‘So to keep them clean you put them on the floor?’ ‘No, they’re still dirty, so putting them on the floor won’t make them any worse, but in order to clean the cleaning surface in preparation for cleaning them I needed free space, and the floor was the most readily available.’ It’s a fairly simple chain of logic.

‘Uh huh. Hey sugar, could you c’mere a sec?’ She’s mad at me. I overstepped my bounds, there’s some reason she keeps things like this. Some symbiotic desert life I wasn’t aware of that eats crumbs, or cultivating something. All I can do is hang my head. She’s pulling me down to look face to face so she can discipline me. Her arms are around my neck. She’s kissing me on the cheek. ‘You work yourself too hard, sugar.’

‘I just wanted to pay you back for letting me stay the night.’ ‘You don’t have to, you’re my girlfriend, remember?’ ‘My old girlfriend had me perform most household duties.’ ‘Sugar, I don’t know how to tell you this, but I don’t think you two had the healthiest relationship.’ That seems...self evident, in hindsight. ‘I guess you’re right. I just never had another frame of reference.’ Pity in her eyes. For the first time I’m not angry to see it.

‘Well, I’m pretty easygoing sugar. Though, looking at ‘em – you did a pretty good job! I forgot these counters were white when I moved in.’ ‘Can I get back to cleaning?’ ‘I already said you don’t gotta.’ ‘I want to. I know it’s how you live, so please let me know if this is going too far, but after keeping my domicile up to Imperial cleanliness standards for so long, staying somewhere that isn’t makes me feel uncomfortable.’ I wish I didn’t have to make such a brazen request for my comfort, I’m being selfish. I should just drop it.

‘Sure. I figured you were just doing it for my sake, but if it bugs you go nuts. Just lemme know where you put things, okay sugar?’ ‘Thank you for letting me do this. I’ll content myself with just the kitchen for today.’ ‘Do as much as you like. I, uhh, kinda let it go a bit last week. Was pretty – y’know. Sugar.’ She’s sad. I reminded her of how sad I made her. Need to cheer her up. ‘Is it alright if I put my hands on you?’

‘Course, you don’t need to ask. Lemme guess; old girlfriend didn’t let you?’ Shake my head. Kiss her forehead. So soft. Wrap my arms around her waist. Even softer. Bending over like this is uncomfortable, just gonna kneel. Easy to lose track of it, but my lips have wandered down to her neck already. She’s letting me lean in. ‘Feelin’ frisky sugar? Guess your burns must’ve healed up good.’ She’s laughing, mission accomplished. Could do this forever, but I don’t want to disrupt her morning too much. I’m holding her hands though. I’ll keep doing that.

‘I just want you to know how much you mean to me. I know it’s shallow to express attraction to your body, but I already got in the way of your morning so that was the only way I could think to do it.’ ‘Sugar, you’re my girlfriend, I’d damn well hope you like my body. Seeing how skittish you are, you mind if I throw out a guess about your old love life?’ There’s nothing she could do that I’d mind. ‘Proceed.’

‘Your old girlfriend never told you how much you meant to her, did she?’ ‘No, she made it quite obvious how much I meant to her.’ ‘Really? You sure don’t act like it.’ ‘She was very clear that my value to her rested primarily on my usefulness.’ ‘Y’see, that explains a lot.You don’t need to be useful to me, you ain’t gotta earn your keep. I love you sugar.’ My eyes are starting to water again.

‘Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate you doing all this; you can prob’ly tell by the way I keep the place that I don’t much like cleaning up after myself – but if all we ever did together was laze around on the couch watching old holovids for the rest of our lives: I’d call that time well spent.’ Back on my knees, crying into her shirt. I don’t want to, but I can’t help myself. I’m so lucky she doesn’t mind. Can feel the warmth of her fingers in my hair. I’ve never felt it before.

‘How’d you get so good at all this?’ ‘All what, sugar?’ ‘All this emotional stuff! I grew up being told not to be emotional, and got trained not to be emotional when I joined the academy, and none of the other soldiers were, and Tessa didn’t let me – where did you get your training? Who taught you how to handle all of these feelings?!’

‘Oh, sugar. Nobody taught me, I had to figure it out myself. But my parents helped me, and my friends helped me, and some of my exes helped me, and after asking them for help long enough I got good at winging it.’ ‘There’s no guidebook for this? Not just some set of rules The Empire skipped teaching me because I wasn’t supposed to survive service this long?’ I feel too much. It’s all too intense; too many emotions hitting me too rapidly and for too long. I’m used to taking high volumes of fire, but star destroyers aren’t this powerful.

‘Afraid not sugar. But I’d be happy to help.’ ‘Why?’ ‘Oh c’mon now, you know why; it’s cause I love you.’ ‘That’s a line of logic that makes sense, but why do you love me? All I’ve done is get you laughed at in a bar, get your apartment shot up, hurt you – physically and emotionally! - and show up half dead at your door. What’s there to love in all that?’ She’s sitting me down at the table. Guess she doesn’t want her shirt stained. A kiss on the forehead.

‘Maybe you did do all those things, but that’s not all sugar. You took me seriously when I told you I was a mechanic. Showed me those neat gloves of yours. Tried so hard to impress me you nearly died, that was cute in its own silly way. I saw how you were glaring at Jigzo in the bar too, looked about ready to tear him in half for me before I beat you to the punch. You made that space trip go by a lot faster – and don’t think I didn’t notice how cleaned up you were when you showed up on my doorstep. You’re a real romantic sugar. You even cleaned my kitchen counter.’

She’s smiling. That endless smile that fills up the apartment and keeps going, stretches all the way across the dunes. It’s hard to stay sad looking at that. ‘Thank you. I’ll try to keep that in mind. I should finish cleaning those dishes.’ ‘Sounds good sugar, I’ll make breakfast when you’re done.’

II

Hard to step down from the cooking at Jaxons place, but getting to eat it with Brayli bridges the gap. ‘What are your morning plans? Jaxon paid me the credits his father promised me, so I can go without working for a while if you wanted to spend some time together.’ ‘It’s my day off, so nothing much. We could finally watch that holo, I could show you around town, we could have sex – makes no difference to me, sugar.’ That was a far more casual suggestion than I’m used to.

‘Sex? Right here, right now? I think there’d be a worry of getting covered in crumbs.’ ‘No not right now, I’m just asking if you’d want to later.’ ‘I’m not used to scheduling that.’ ‘Really? Half figured living in the military so long you’d’ve figured out a way to make drills for it. “Drop and give me twenty thrusts”.’ Joke aside, I suppose I can see how she’d get that impression. It is a funny thought though.

‘I didn’t talk much about sex with other Troopers, and my ex was very sudden and inconsistent about when she wanted it.’ ‘How much did you want sex?’ ‘That didn’t factor in.’ An exasperated sigh. Is that not normal? ‘Yeah, that tracks sugar – lemme rephrase: do you want to have sex with me later?’ ‘Yes please, I would like that very much.’ No need to worry about looking desperate with her I don’t think.

‘Glad to hear it, so would I. How about when we’re done cleaning up after breakfast, give the food a little time to settle?’ ‘That sounds sensible.’ ‘Done. See how easy that was to plan sugar?’ ‘I do, thank you. Do you always want sex to be planned out in advance? I rarely had much advance notice, are you saying that wasn’t normal?’ I wouldn’t want to force myself on her by being too spontaneous.

‘I wouldn’t go that far, nothing wrong with riding the mood. You can even just give me a squeeze and see if I squeeze back.’ ‘Those are signals I’m familiar with, though I’m not used to being the one performing them.’ ‘I’m sure you’ll get used to it sugar.’ ‘I’m sorry for not knowing this sort of thing.’ ‘Trust me, I’ve dealt with worse. Better to be too cautious than too eager.’

She doesn’t clean as quickly as I do. I’m already finished, but I don’t know what to do with my hands. ‘Is it okay if I touch you?’ ‘Go ahead sugar.’ Her shirt is coarse. She said she only owns work clothes, and something this thick would be ideal for protecting from sparks and micro-shrapnel – but it also protects me from feeling her. ‘Would it be alright if I reached under your shirt?’ ‘That sounds nice.’

Her skin has a slightly smooth, rubbery texture, but the stretching keeps it from being too thick or unresponsive. It’s nice. ‘Sorry to be pestering you with questions like this, I can stop and wait if you’d prefer.’ ‘You’re doing just fine sugar.’ Now I feel awkward towering over her like this, staring at nothing. ‘Can I kiss your head?’ ‘Course.’ She’s chuckling, but I can tell it’s not mockery.

‘You having fun back there sugar?’ ‘Yes. I really like touching your body, but I can stop if it’s distracting.’ ‘You’re fine. It’s pretty good foreplay.’ Don’t want to be too overzealous, I’ll stay away from her breasts. Or try to anyway, it’s so easy to lose track of where my hands are. Tessa had a body with strictly defined curvatures, and the ribs or hip bones always protruded when deviating from the center – but everything about Brayli is so soft.

‘I’m not fondling you too roughly am I?’ ‘Rough? Sugar, this is barely a caress.’ I suppose her padding makes her more resilient to touch. ‘Can I be a little rougher? I’d like to squeeze you a little.’ ‘Course.’ It’s like nothing I’ve ever handled before. I can’t contour my hands around her at all – her fat fills my hands completely and then spills out of them, leaving me right where I started, like a rolling wave. I could knead her like dough forever and never be finished. It’s very attractive, I can see why the Empire prohibits it – I couldn’t imagine anyone getting things done if the women were all built like this. Lips pressed up under my chin.

‘Hey sugar? I’m done.’ ‘Oh, good. I got a little distracted.’ ‘I noticed.’ I want to keep cuddling her, but we need to stop in order to walk to the bedroom. I have an idea. ‘Could you turn around? I want to carry you.’ ‘Good luck sugar, most folks- Whoa!’ She’s an above average load, but nothing that leverage and technique can’t accommodate. Now we’re face to face.

‘Okay, wow. Not used to people actually pulling that off when they try. Had a guy throw out his back once, spent the rest of our date in a bacta tank.’ ‘Carrying heavy loads is a surprisingly large aspect of Stormtrooper training. More pertinently, can I kiss you?’ Her lips are almost vacuum sealed to mine. I suppose asking to do something and giving permission to are the same thing – I just wish she’d have warned me, my knees almost buckled.

Lay her down gently on the bed. She’s not releasing her arms or legs, so we’re kissing a while longer. Her lips are soft, mouth is warm, and tongue feels wonderful, just like I’d hoped it would. I wish I could let myself lose focus and get lost in it, but even now my mind won’t stop assessing. I suppose I might as well feel what her head is like while I cradle it. That rubbery texture gives it a tiny amount of give, kind of nice. Head tentacles are stiffer, but not rigid enough to contain bone, with enough flesh to be firmly connected to the base of the skull. I kind of want to tug on them.

III

Never heard her make that sound before. It sounded nice. ‘H-hey sugar, you’re getting into it, aren’t you?’ ‘I’m sorry, I went too far. I guess I got caught up in the moment.’ I was being too rough with her. What if I’d pulled it off? Even with first aid it’s a part of the head, those bleed profusely. ‘I kinda liked it.’ Oh. That changes things.

‘I liked it too. You made a really cute noise when I did it.’ She’s laughing. ‘Sugar, are you trying to tell me you’ve been a domme this whole time?’ ‘I don’t know what that means.’ ‘Well it’s like, you like to make your partner feel bad during sex.’ Oh, like Tessa did. ‘No, I would never want to make you feel bad. I got carried away, and I’m just lucky that you happened to like it too.’ ‘No – not bad, sugar, bad. Like, okay let’s back up: what did you like about doing it?’ I was so caught up in the moment I didn’t realize I should be analyzing it.

‘Could I do it again, to check?’ I don’t know what we’re doing right now, but at least she’s laughing about it. ‘Sure, sugar. You can even do it a little harder this time.’ Firm grip at the base of the skull, sharp pull downward. That sharp gasp of hers is very arousing, and she’s even biting her lip this time. I’m starting to understand.

‘I guess it makes me feel in control to take it away from you, and being in control of situations is what I’m so used to having to do that it puts me at ease.’ That’s disgusting. How could I even think of doing something like that to her, that’s exactly what Tessa did every time and it made me feel vile. I’ll just have to set those feelings aside, get used to being normal. She’s gripping my wrist hard. Why does she look so enthusiastic?

‘Sugar, that was really hot.’ ‘It was? I liked it, but I feel bad about liking it, because I don’t feel good about imposing myself on you.’ ‘Imposing yourself on someone is what being a domme is.’ ‘I’ll try not to be one then.’ ‘Sugar, lemme spell it out: I’m letting you – because I want you to.’ ‘You are? You do?’

‘Course. I wouldn’t be letting you if I didn’t like it.’ ‘But I’m so strong, what if I get carried away and hurt you in a way you don’t like?’ ‘Then I say the safeword.’ ‘The what?’ ‘Wow, you really – okay, you wanna take a few minutes to talk this out real quick, sugar? Get you up to speed?’ ‘That seems necessary.’ This is getting surprisingly complicated for sex, but if it lets me wring those noises out of Brayli with a clear conscience, it should be worth it.

‘Okay so there’s kind of a lot to it, and I’d need the rest of the morning to explain it all. You mind if I just give you the important bits, sugar?’ ‘Please. I want to make you feel good, but right now what we’re doing makes me feel bad when I do it.’ ‘The three big bits are that we trust each other, we’re communicating, and that it’s all a big game we’re playing together. You with me so far?’ A game? That’s certainly a very different outlook on sex.

‘Those first two make sense, but I’m not sure about that last one. Only thing that’s coming to mind are wargames, but that can’t be right.’ ‘Sounds like as good a reference point as any sugar, what are those like?’ ‘Two squads are pitted against each other in a mock situation with fake rounds, then at the end we check for injuries and share strategic information with each other as to how the other could improve.’

‘I’ve heard worse comparisons. The big thing is that, yeah, you’re not hurting me for real sugar, you’re hurting me in a way that I like – to make me feel good.’ I liked being hurt, I think I can wrap my head around this now. I guess I just wasn’t used to getting to put limits on it. ‘And if I hurt you in a way you don’t like, you say the safeword?’ ‘Yeah, you got it!’ ‘Alright, I think I understand. What’s the safeword?’

‘Womp rat sound good? Can’t imagine either of us saying that during sex.’ ‘I agree. So, can I pull your head tentacles again?’ ‘Mmm, no.’ I’ve already done it twice, that’s fine. ‘Okay, I’ll do something else.’ ‘Sugar, that’s – no isn’t the safeword, I’m just being bratty. You can do it.’ ‘But you said no.’ ‘I said no to give you an excuse to punish me for not doing what you want. That’s part of the game.’ Oh. This is a layered mind game. We’re speaking in double talk via threats and implications, like officers. Now I get it.

In that case, it sounds like she’s after overt displays of power. One hand on her tentacles and another around her throat should do. Not too tightly though. ‘You should really be more clear about these things. Lack of clarity could lead to mishaps. Or worse, reprimands.’ One sharp tug, now she’s really getting into it. I am too.

‘What kind of reprimands, sugar?’ Another tug. ‘I’m not sweet right now, call me officer.’ ‘Yes officer!’ This is fun. It’s a bit silly, obviously the punitive action taken against someone for speaking out of turn to an officer would usually be a levying of chores, perhaps gruelling physical exercise – but I don’t expect her to know that, so I can improvise.

She seems to know a lot more about this than I do though. ‘As for the kind of reprimands you can be expected to face, for a first offence I believe some leniency can be granted. What do you think would be appropriate?’ I’ve never seen anyone be given the opportunity to dictate their own terms of punishment, but it’s just a game. Don’t think a demotion would be very arousing, never mind the logistics of staging an erotic court hearing.

‘Hmm, I dunno officer. I’m willing to do anything to keep this from hurting my career.’ ‘I believe we can come to an arrangement.’ Even though I’ve seen her naked before, getting to strip her down isn’t any less exciting. ‘What are you doing officer?’ ‘You did say you were willing to offer anything to keep this off the record, I’m just assessing what’s available.’ A mock pout, but I can see her wriggling with excitement. Can’t say I feel any differently.

‘Well, in that case officer, do you like what you see?’ ‘I believe we can come to an arrangement.’ That should be enough preamble. Time to get naked myself. ‘Oh my officer, you have such generous tactical assets.’ Now this is just getting silly. I’m fine with that. ‘Indeed. I’ve been looking for a hangar to dock my private shuttle in. If you let me access yours, I can make sure this incident stays between us.’ A demure nod, she’s very good at playing the part.

She feels amazing. It’ll be difficult for me to keep up this role any longer. ‘Brayli, I don’t think I can pretend to be mean like this while I’m inside you.’ She’s chuckling, as always. ‘I get it sugar, you did great. Did you enjoy it?’ ‘Yes. Not as much as this though.’ I never thought sex could be like this. It always felt obligatory, the pleasure got tangled up with the duty. That was nice in its own way, the satisfaction of doing a good job, but right now I’m not worried about any of that. Brayli being so vocal certainly helps.

‘You feel bigger than you look sugar, and you’re already an impressive sight.’ ‘I’m not going too fast am I? Applying too much pressure?’ ‘You’re doing great, keep it up.’ Okay. If I don’t have to worry about pleasing her, I can think about how much she’s pleasing me. It’s a lot. I can feel her internal muscles tensing and releasing as I move, they line up with a different part of me with each thrust. Her putting her arms and legs around me feels nice, even if the proportions don’t quite line up. I wish it were easier to kiss her without arcing my back so much. I’ll settle for her forehead.

I’ve actually never felt this good during sex before. I might not even need to be finished separately after this. Her body is getting tighter, and her voice is getting higher pitched, I think she must be just about there. ‘Are you close?’ ‘Yes sugar, just a few more-’ Wow. I hope the neighbours don’t mind hearing that. ‘I’m also close, can I keep thrusting?’ Feverish nod instead of a vocal response, guess she can’t form the words.

These thrusts are driving her crazy, and she’s so tight I can barely move. Have to pry her legs from around my hips, hold her by the ankles. Just a few more – there. This feels amazing, easily the best orgasm I’ve ever had. All sense of rhythm is breaking down, but I’m still thrusting just to draw out the pleasure for as long as possible. It’s rolling across my whole body, sapping the strength from me. Struggling just to let myself down gently on top of her. Wow.

‘Well that was fun, huh sugar?’ Can barely muster up the energy to speak. ‘Yeah.’ ‘You wanna stay like this for a couple minutes?’ ‘Yeah.’ Now I understand why my squadmates talked about sex so much. I always figured there must have been something wrong with me for not getting it, but Tessa was just breaking every rule of sex. At least they’re easy to learn.

‘I can feel my strength coming back.’ ‘Yeah, me too sugar. Wanna go share a shower? Figure that’s the easiest way to clean up.’ ‘Agreed. I really, really enjoyed that. Can we do it again some time soon?’ ‘Course. Tomorrow or something though, I’m gonna be riding that for the rest of the day at least.’ ‘So will I.’

#my oc #oc #star wars #writing #koben tarani #transgender #sapphic #lesbian nsft

[scrumpledorph-writes]

Koben’s Reunion (Finding The Light)

I

Awake. Not dead. Jaxon’s here, wherever here is. That’s good. ‘Koben! Shit am I glad to see you awake.’ ‘I’m surprised. Was having horrible dreams, figured I’d been pumped full of hallucinogens to break me for an Imperial interrogation. That or you’d killed me and my more superstitious squadmates had been right.’ ‘Are you kidding? The second your head hit the floor I turned around and put one clean between my dads eyes.’

‘I’m sorry to make you do that on my behalf.’ ‘Don’t be. I’m sure you managed to pick up on how much him and I didn’t get along, I’m not too torn up about it.’ Body feels barely functional. Haven’t been shot up like that in years, maybe ever. ‘Don’t push yourself too hard. Nobody could figure out how to get your armour off, so we had to settle for a stim injection to the neck. Might take a while to get you back on your feet.’ That explains a few things. I can talk, turn to look at him – but not much else.

‘Right, makes sense. Keep filling me in. How’d you get away with killing a crime boss in front of all his guards?’ ‘Dad always saw it as a family business; the second he died, it was mine. His guards became my guards, and I told them to forget about the bounty.’ My senses are coming back to me. This isn’t the manor. Plain old whitewashed stone. And speeder oil.

‘Why am I here?’ ‘Well, I didn’t completely trust the guards not to try their luck, a hundred thousand is a lot of credits, so I took you back to Dunton.’ ‘Why am I here? This apartment – specifically?’ ‘I didn’t know where you lived, so I looked through your datapad contacts. This place was listed under “girlfriend”. I worked so hard trying to forget about her that I forgot to even delete her number. She doesn’t seem to be here, I have to leave before she comes back.

‘Hey, whoa, what’s the hurry? You’ve barely had an hour to heal, there’s no way you can walk!’ He’s only ever seen my freelance jobs, he has no idea what I’ve pushed through in the Empire. ‘I don’t have a girlfriend. We broke up the day before I met you. It was my fault. She deserves to never have to see me again.’ Almost to the front door. Strength is draining from my legs, can barely lean against the wall. I really am wounded.

‘She was here when I arrived! Soon as she saw you she let me in before I could ask, left to go buy you some bacta salve.’ She’s too kind. I don’t deserve it. Nursing is an easy vector to foster attachment, and I can’t bear to have to break her heart again. Just need to get to Vrankis place, have her doctor patch me up. One last push to the door. It’s opening. ‘Sugar?’

Brayli. She looks...I don’t know how she looks. Nobody’s ever looked at me like that before. I want to push past her through that doorway. To fight and kick and muster up all my strength to leave and never look back. But I could never fight her. I’m not strong enough for this. It’s all draining, I’m falling. ‘Easy there Sugar, I’ve got you.’

She’s holding me. Why? After everything I’ve done, why? She should have let me drop. Better yet, turned Jaxon away. Then I wouldn’t have to go through this. I’ve never had to step back into a life after tearing it apart before. I’m crying. I don’t deserve this; this kindness is smothering, and I don’t know if I’m strong enough to survive destroying it again. ‘Little help here Jaxon? I’d rather not drag her back to the couch, but she’s too heavy to lift.’ ‘Oh, yeah, right, sorry.’

She’s taking my helmet off. I don’t want her to see me, but I used all my strength trying to get out of here. ‘Hey Jaxon, could you go?’ ‘Go where?’ ‘Anywhere, doesn’t matter. Koben and I need to be alone for a while.’ ‘Oh, uhh, yeah, sure. I’ll go grab her stuff from the manor, bring it here.’ Please don’t. I can’t face her.

II

She’s not saying anything. She’s just sitting here, looking down at me while I bawl my eyes out. Please stop smiling. I don’t deserve to see that smile of yours, it’s too pretty. I shouldn’t even have survived the party. It would have been a perfect way for my life to end. I save Jaxon from idolizing all the horrible cruel violence inside of me, bring him out of his shell, and he glues his relationship with his father back together using my blood. Atonement.

Redemption. But how can I redeem myself from what I did to Brayli? She has no enemies to face, no problems that can be solved with violence. Without someone to hurt, I have no purpose. I just want to be alone, but I’m not even strong enough to do that, so now I just have to lie here and suffer knowing she’s wasting that kindness and love of hers on me instead of giving it to someone who deserves it. No more tears left inside, I even stained her couch.

‘Do you feel better sugar?’ The least I can do is answer her. ‘No. I feel horrible.’ Every word feels like I’m trying to get it out through a choke hold. She sounds so gentle. ‘I bought some bacta. If you tell me how, I can get you out of that suit and help you put it on.’ ‘Why?’ ‘Your friend said you got shot up pretty bad.’ ‘Why do you care?’ She looks hurt. I didn’t mean to. She shouldn’t care about me, nobody should. Please just push me away now instead of later, save yourself from letting me hurt you even more.

‘Well, I know our last date didn’t go so well, but I still like you.’ I can feel emotions welling up in my throat again. ‘You do?’ ‘Yeah. I thought about you every day, sugar.’ Tears welling up in those deep black eyes of hers. I’m at least faster than her at crying right now, for however little that’s worth. ‘I did too.’ ‘Could we talk? I think we oughta.’

This is just going to keep happening. No. Even if we make up, I’ll just hurt her again. No. I’m too broken for her to fix. No. I wish I’d never met her. No! That’s not true, I finally understand. She’s not forgiving me because she’s weak, she’s doing it because she’s strong.

This must be tearing her up as much as it’s tearing me up, but she’s survived enough to be able to handle it. I thought I was being stronger than my emotions by suppressing them, but I was running away – I took the cowards way out! Again and again, for years! That old Jedi was, eugh, right – just like one to speak in riddles and make me do all the work to figure out what the hell they’re talking about.

Brayli is my light. She shines so brightly it blinds me, but I won’t go back to the shadows any more. No more tears. I’m strong enough to do this, I have to be. ‘Brayli, I love you. I’m sorry for what I did. I don’t think I deserve to be forgiven, but you do, and I love you enough to trust you more than I trust myself.’ She’s crying now, but I’ve never seen her smile that wide.

‘You’re a real dumbass, y’know sugar? I already forgave you, you’re the one who’s been holding onto it all this time. I’m just glad you came back to me, even if you did it half dead. I’m serious about that bacta.’ I’ve been awake long enough for the pain to settle in, that is a good idea.

‘Yeah. That sounds nice. Taking the plates off shouldn’t be much harder than taking off a speeder panel. You just need to start at the extremities, then work your way inward. The upper and lower body are separate systems. Put pressure on the inside edge of the plates and you’ll hear a click.’ A little pain is unavoidable in my condition, but she’s good at this.

‘You know sugar, I’d hoped my first time undressing you would be a bit more romantic. Feels like I’m getting a droid ready for maintenance.’ That laugh of hers. I missed it so much. ‘I’ll make sure to savour undressing you for the first time then.’ Easy to join in laughing with her.

‘Alright, that should about do it for the plates. Any trick to this thing? Looks almost vacuum sealed.’ ‘It was contoured when it was made, but otherwise no. Just pull down from the neck. It’s more elastic than it looks.’ ‘I was hoping this’d be a bit more sexy than the plates, but it might be worse! It’s like trying to take off shrink wrap.’ ‘I think the burns would kill any mood that stripping me managed to create.’

It seems like they were trying not to kill me, save the coup de grâce for Jaxon. Coverage is high, but penetration isn’t critically deep. The stim is helping to dull the pain, but some bacta would definitely do this good. The thermal weave will probably need a complete replacement, but that sheet I bought should still have plenty. ‘Well, c’mon then, I’ve gotta get that underwear off too.’

Oh. I suppose she does. ‘Brayli, I don’t know how to say this, but I feel a bit uncomfortable at that idea.’ ‘Why’s that sugar?’ ‘It makes me feel vulnerable. Usually I handle my own medical care, or have a droid take care of it.’ Why is this a problem? I was naked in front of Seline just fine, and it’s not like I wouldn’t want to have sex with Brayli, or that I don’t trust her.

‘Well, what if I got naked too?’ That’s certainly a line of thought. I can understand the logic behind it; a display of mutual vulnerability. But I still feel a little uneasy. I just have to trust her, I know she only has good intentions. Whatever happens I’ll deal with as it comes up. We will deal with. ‘I’d also hoped to save that for a more romantic mood, but I think it would be helpful.’

‘Oh, I’ll still give you a show, don’t worry.’ I won’t say no to that. I never imagined a pair of coveralls could be taken off seductively, but she’s managing it. Or, she was until one of the straps got caught. ‘C’mon damn thing.’ Built enough strength back up to sit up, stop craning my neck at least. ‘Maybe these ain’t the best clothes for a strip tease. You mind if I just cut to the chase? ‘Go ahead.’

Her body is as beautiful as I could have imagined. The fat deposits compliment her form, and there’s a lot more muscle mass under there than I was expecting. I guess that’s how she managed to stay on her feet when I collapsed on her. Her body language isn’t like her though, I’ve never seen her look embarrassed. ‘Is something wrong?’ ‘I guess there’s just a bit of a difference between saying I’m gonna do it and doing it, y’know sugar?’

‘There’s no need to be bashful, you’re extremely attractive.’ I guess this must be how everyone else feels. ‘Oh, you think so? I used to get a lot of unwanted comments about my weight before I started knocking folks out for it. Guess it just made me feel a little-’ I can feel an adrenal flare up dulling the pain. ‘If anyone ever says anything bad about your appearance in my presence I’ll deliver any type of violence you want upon them.’

‘Aww shucks, you really know how to make a girl swoon. Like I said, I handle it nowadays. Guess some of them just kinda got stuck in.’ ‘Can I remark on your attractiveness?’ ‘You don’t need to ask.’ ‘They’re intense remarks.’ ‘Well they’d better make me blush then.’ ‘If I wasn’t recovering from life threatening injuries right now I’d carry you to your bedroom and commit the topography of your entire body to memory. My prior sexual experience is very restrained and mechanical, but I want to ravage you at the nearest and every subsequent possible opportunity – until even your head tentacles curl.’ I didn’t think her skin tone could betray a blush.

‘Wow. Yeah, that definitely did it. I mean, don’t get me wrong sugar, I could definitely see us making the bed shake from first sunup to third sundown some time, but with the way you hold yourself back – I definitely wasn’t expecting to hear that.’ ‘You bring out the best in me.’ More laughing. Managing to do it so deeply it’s making me wince. ‘Oh, shit, right – let’s get some bacta on you.’ After a reveal like that, getting naked in front of her doesn’t sound so bad.

‘This’ll definitely be easier with you sitting up.’ Still feels a little undignified to need someone else to help me get my clothes off, but if it has to be anyone I’m glad it’s her. She’s staring. ‘Is everything alright? I don’t see any particularly severe burns.’ ‘Nah, you’re good sugar. Just got a really nice body.’ ‘I’ve heard that a few times lately. It’ll look nicer when it’s healed.’ ‘Right, sorry. Let’s get these shorts off.’

Never got the chance to discuss my genitals with her, I hope she doesn’t mind them. I don’t think she’d end the relationship over them, but I feel bad for surprising her. ‘Holy – sugar, if you ever try holonet dating again, maybe lead with this.’ ‘I know I should have told you sooner, I’m sorry.’ ‘We were taking it slow, and I doubt you were planning for this to be the first time I saw you naked. No harm done sugar.’ ‘Oh, you don’t mind it?’ ‘It’s a big galaxy, I’ve seen a lot crazier. The size excites me if anything. Makes that declaration of yours a little spicier.’ I can feel the relief washing over me. One less secret between us.

III

Her bed is rather stiff. I suppose with such a soft body she doesn’t need a soft mattress. Reminds me of the barracks. ‘Alright, settle in and hold still for me sugar. I’ve never really used the spray on stuff, never gotten anything that the patches couldn’t cover.’ ‘Spray until you can’t see the skin underneath. Within two minutes, the surface layer should dry and harden. After that it can be bandaged and safely left with no fear of the healing being disrupted.’

‘Should’ve figured you’d need to be an expert in this, being a former Trooper and all.’ I should tell her the truth. That bounty hunter spilled a few secrets, and leaving them gnawing at her would be cruel of me. If any of them are a deal breaker, better to do it now. ‘Can I talk while you work? I have something important to say.’ ‘Go ahead sugar.’

‘I didn’t tell you the whole truth about my history.’ ‘I heard a couple tidbits that didn’t quite line up last week. Fill me in.’ ‘I wasn’t just a Storm Trooper – not for the whole time I was in the military. I was promoted to a Purge Trooper for the last five years of my service.’ ‘No clue what that is, but glad you got a promotion.’ ‘I helped hunt down Jedi.’ I expected a more intense reaction.

‘Wow. So you must be real good at fighting to tangle with them, huh?’ ‘If you have any other feelings, don’t feel like you need to hold them back from me. Disgust, betrayal, anything like that I’d rather get over now.’ ‘Never met one in my life, why would I care? Anything else sugar?’ ‘I left because I murdered my commanding officer to protect a child. She was also my girlfriend at the time.’ That’s the reaction I was expecting.

‘I...certainly wasn’t expecting to hear that. That’s a lot, but I appreciate you telling me. It must have really been eating at you, huh?’ ‘I understand if that’s too much for our relationship to bear. I onl-’ ‘None of that sugar. All I heard was that you’re so sweet you’d throw your whole life away to save a kid. Nothing wrong with that.’ ‘You’re no-’ ‘Nothing. Anything else you wanted to say? Feel like I should go once you’re done.’ I can feel tears welling up again, of gratitude this time. Best give them a few seconds to pass.

‘I do illegal bounty work, killing for credits.’ ‘Gee, and here I was worried there was another six six solid black killing machine making you look bad on the holonews. C’mon sugar, I ain’t dumb.’ ‘I just want you to know what you’re getting into by dating me.’ ‘I know, I know – just teasing you. It’s a sweet gesture, really. That everything?’ I’ve never felt this light before.

‘It is. Unless you want me to start telling you embarrassing stories from my time in the Corps.’ ‘Maybe another time, sugar. I figure I should do a little sharing too, while we’re at it.’ I can’t imagine anything she could say that would turn me away. She could even pull out a lightsaber. ‘Go ahead.’ ‘Y’ever wonder what a girl like me’s doing on a desert planet?’ ‘The galaxy is a big place, I’ve seen more unusual things.’

‘Well, I’m on the run too. Not enough to get bounty hunters after me like you do, but I’d feel uneasy going back home.’ She looks torn up about this. I can’t leave it there. ‘What did you do?’ ‘I used to run a chop shop, ripping folks off both ways: tearing their speeders apart, then charging them through the breath hole for worse quality parts after I pawned theirs off. Not proud of it, but there weren’t too many options above board where I lived.’ Oh. That’s it?

‘How long ago was this?’ ‘About fifteen years. It was the family trade.’ ‘Those are fairly minor infractions. If you’re running from the law, the statute of limitations on that is surely expired by now.’ ‘Not the law I’m worried about. Ripped off a cartel lieutenant one day, didn’t realize. Roughed me up real bad the next day, thought he was gonna kill me – but he quoted me a ridiculous figure for how much his speeder was worth, told me I’d work for ‘em until I paid it off.’ Glad my hands are relatively unscathed, this white knuckle clenching would probably hurt a lot more otherwise.

‘That doesn’t sound like the end of it, if you’re willing to keep going.’ ‘I saw the writing on the wall after a few years. I’d work a few zeroes off, then one of my speeders would have an “accident” with some nobody in the cockpit and they’d slap ‘em back on. Decided it was time the higher ups suffered an “accident” too. Took a job to tune up one of their starships, rigged it to blow as soon as they hit hyperspace.’ Wow, that’s daring. I was pushed to act on impulse, I could never commit a premeditated attack like that against an officer. Kind of hot.

‘Took the credits and ran all the way out here, figured they’d never bother checking a desert. Been settled down here for about a decade. Folks don’t ask questions or take good care of their speeders around these parts, so I got along okay. That’s about the whole of it.’ I never had any attachment to my old home, but enduring these conditions with her physiology must be brutal.

‘I’m sorry to hear you can’t go home. Do you have any information on this cartel? Names, locations, numbers?’ ‘Not since I left, why?’ ‘I don’t think it’s right for you to have to live in fear like this, so I’ll hunt them down for you. Dossiers can take a while to compile, so I figured I should get a head start.’ She’s laughing. The offer was serious, but if she’s accepted this life then I can live with it.

‘You’re a real romantic, but that’s alright sugar. Like I said, they’re no Empire; as long as I don’t go back they can’t reach far enough to get me. Oh, by the way, just got the last spot. Need any help with the bandages?’ The thought of getting to feel Braylis hands gliding across my skin is almost exciting enough to make this whole ordeal worth it. ‘Please.’

#my oc #oc #star wars #writing #koben tarani #sapphic

[scrumpledorph-writes]

Koben’s Final Lesson (Jaxon Becomes A Man)

I

Contract’s almost over. I’ve really come to like Jaxon. I hope I’ve managed to impress Huxley enough to get hired on for more permanent work. It would normally feel awkward to ask a former client if they wanted to be friends, but Jaxon is easy to get along with. Maybe we can exchange holovid info if things don’t work out.

‘Good morning Jaxon. Today we’ll put everything I’ve taught you into practice with a trial patrol around town.’ ‘You know I’m not actually training to be a soldier, right? What’s there for me to patrol?’ ‘Nothing, but I’ll have you pointing out potential threats as we walk. Think of it like a speeder license test.’ ‘You need a license to drive a speeder in the core?’ That explains some of the driving I’ve seen around here.

‘Meet me out front when you’re ready, I’ll be in the yard.’ He takes a while to wake up, I hope he doesn’t miss the sunrise. Going out at least lets me pick up my weapons. These training ones are too light – they don’t actually ingrain the right muscle memory for things like quickly drawing them. ‘Jaxon and I are going out today, I’d like to withdraw all of my weapons.’ No visible changes to their condition, and I doubt there’s any reason for them to have been tampered with. At the very least, it’s next to impossible to covertly sabotage a knife.

Gardeners manually watering the lawn, and the guard rotating at the same time. The system runs well, even if keeping a garden on a desert is ill thought out. The sun is just cresting now, I wonder if he has the gardeners time it to simulate morning dew? ‘Ah, warrior. We have had little time for one another, both occupied by our own pursuits as we are. How fares yours? I know that my son is a meager offering as a student, but if you are as good as he says then that should be a trifling obstacle to overcome.’ Everything he says tends to drag, but I have nothing else to do until Jaxon shows up.

‘It’s going well. Slow at first, but once we got to know each other he took to my instructions well. I think you should give him a bit more credit.’ ‘Credit, do not speak to me of credit when he is involved. He does nothing but spend my credits, refusing his birthright. I fear for my legacy once he takes hold of its reigns, with only the cold comfort that I won’t be around to see it brought to ruination.’ Not even trying to feign that sweetness while he talks about Jaxon. I can see why he spends so much time in his room.

‘He’s smarter than he looks. Quick on the uptake when he’s interested. Already learned things that took me months of work back in the academy.’ Maybe he just doesn’t like crime, but that’s not something Huxley would be happy hearing. Best not to upset my employer. ‘This is surprising, but I welcome it as an unexpected boon. If he takes well to a martial lifestyle, perhaps the guileful machinations in which I find myself further steeped by the day can be cloven in half with raw brawn. That would be a worthy succession. I shall ruminate on this at a later time. Enjoying my little oasis, I trust? A slice of home I couldn’t bear to part with when I came here.’

‘Waiting for Jaxon, actually. I’m planning to test how well he’s taken in all the training with a mock patrol through the city. The garden is impressive though.’ Impressive how many credits he can afford to throw away, at least. Imperial training’s only interest in botany is in what’s forageable. ‘Prudent. Even if you merely celebrated his passage into manhood with a day of revelry, getting him to leave that room of his and see the world that exists outside of my domain would be a use of your time I would deem sufficient for the rate I pay you.’ Maybe we could spend a little time celebrating. My squadmates always seemed to spend half their pay on bar crawls.

‘Speaking of payment: I assume that will be ready tonight?’ ‘Yes. I have a celebration planned for Jaxon. This is an occasion that only happens once, and I want it to be memorable. I apologize for not putting it in the contract up front, but I trust with how well you two have gotten along that it would be no trouble to ask you to attend it? You will receive your payment then.’ ‘That’s fine.’ I would’ve asked to come if I wasn’t being told to. Definitely want to see Jaxon off into adulthood at the bare minimum.

‘Hey Koben! Hi dad. I’m ready to go whenever.’ ‘I hope you two make the most of the day. My works require constant maintenance, and I alone am fit to attend them. I look forward to tonight.’ Glad he’s gone, those two have a colder relationship than most officers do with their subordinates.

II

‘Potential threat report.’ ‘Uhh, there’s a few blind alleyways, rooftop overhangs I can’t see the tops of, and a fair number of people wearing cloaks that could be concealing weapons.’ ‘Adequate. You neglected to mention the closed windows that could be concealing snipers, but the vectors you identified are the most common.’ ‘I figured those weren’t worth mentioning. I mean if you want to get that technical, everything you can’t see could be hiding a threat, couldn’t it?’

‘They could, and if you want to stay alive when your enemies are everywhere, it’s important to stay aware of them at all times.’ ‘I guess the Empire is pretty unpopular in some places. Still sounds a little excessive.’ ‘You’re the heir to a criminal empire Jaxon, you have enemies. People who want to kill you won’t announce themselves.’ ‘We will if we want to make him suffer first.’ Oh this has to be a joke.

‘Look who wandered down the wrong alley. Your daddy doesn’t have this whole city under his-’ Not in the mood for this today. Blaster bolt to the gut should put him down, five to go. ‘Jaxon, take cover.’ He learned that lesson well enough. They seem to have gotten the message too. Killing five men hunkered down at the other side of a tight corridor will be difficult. But not impossible.

‘Fuck! Koben, what do we do?!’ ‘You stay here, if any more appear, shoot them like I taught you. That blaster pistol handles well.’ ‘And you?!’ ‘You’ve watched me work enough times by now.’ Footsteps, one rushing toward us. Stupid. Barely need to push the knife into him, just hold it steady while momentum drives it home. Blaster shots rippling against his back, saves me the trouble of confirming my kill.

His blaster pistol is garbage, but it’s better than trying to one arm a rifle in such cramped quarters. He’s big enough to provide me full cover, at least until there are holes blown through him. Should close the gap before that happens. Next closest is halfway down the alley, behind a dumpster. He’s keeping his head down, probably can’t hear me approaching over the sound of blaster fire. Of all the injuries this line of work can cause, nobody ever thinks about hearing damage. He might have at least gotten a shot off before I reached him. Oh well, one to the chest, one to the head. Halfway there.

Might as well take the other side of the cover he was using, pause to reevaluate. They’re on either side of the alley, which means no matter what I’d likely end up shot if I advanced on their position. Blind firing with barely their wrists exposed, I can give them credit for that. Except that they’ve stopped firing.

‘Alright, whoever you are: we clearly bit off more than we can chew. You made your point – we’ll leave you two alone.’ Imperial Force Guidelines dictate total obliteration of enemy forces, but I’m not in the Empire any more, but they tried to kill Jaxon, but – Oh to hell with it. ‘Fine. Leave, now. If I ever recognize any of your faces in a crowd I’ll kill you on the spot.’ Footsteps, fast ones.

Glad to resolve that without getting shot, would have put a damper on the festivities later. Jaxon looks unharmed. ‘Are you alright?’ ‘Holy shit Koben, that was...’ Here it comes. The disgust, the rejection. A screen between you and the violence is one thing, but being brought face to face with it is another. I’d hoped he would be different, but that was naive. His father might be a crime lord, but he’s sheltered enough to be just a regular civilian.

‘Fucking awesome! You were so cool, the way you knifed that guy without even looking, charging down the alley, that threat at the end sending them running like a pack of dogs! I wish I’d had my recorder, but I saw the whole thing! Seeing it through a screen is one thing, but it doesn’t come close to the full sensory experience of watching it happen live. You’ve got a little blood on your, uhh, whole front of your suit – by the way.’ Oh.

‘That’s not how people usually react to my work.’ It’s certainly a nice change of pace though. ‘Really? What do they usually do?’ ‘Scream at me. Start crying. The specifics vary, but those two are a constant.’ ‘Well, it was either that or they were going to kill me, so I mean, c’mon – what kind of an asshole would I have to be to not appreciate it?’ ‘It just tends to put people into shock. Death is hard to process without training.’

‘I guess. I used to be that way, but then dad made me sit in on an interrogation he was doing to try to toughen me up – and everything you do feels pretty tame by comparison.’ It would be irresponsible of me to let that comment go. ‘I know I’m one to talk, but I don’t think that’s quite healthy.’ ‘Yeah, well, it is what it is I guess. Not like I can go back and undo it, so whatever. We should find you a towel or something before that blood crusts over.’ Maybe he is his fathers son.

III

That was a better test of his skills than anything I had planned, and getting into cover quickly enough not to get shot is a lesson a lot of soldiers never pick up. He’s passed all my expectations. Not sure what to do with the rest of the day, but don’t want to take him home just yet. We do seem to have stumbled close to the red light district though. ‘I can’t think of any other tests for you. We’re near the adult district, and you are an adult as of today. It wouldn’t be inappropriate to visit, if you’re interested.’

‘What? Well, I mean, it’s kind of a tradition, so I guess it’d be disrespectful of us not to.’ He’s trying to play it cool, but I saw his body language shift at the mention. ‘Are you sure? The girls probably look nothing like me, so it would be pretty disappointing.’ ‘Alright, alright, no need to bust my balls about it. You like girls too y’know. Let’s go.’ We should stay on a main thoroughfare, no need for another shootout.

‘Ten credits for a fortune reading. Put your trust in The Force to guide your way.’ What a waste of credits that would be. Either he can use The Force, in which case he’s a Jedi – and therefore a liar – or he’s just some old man scamming people. Jaxon’s looking over at him. I can tell he’s considering it.

‘Hey Koben, you wanna? Not like it’ll break the bank, I can pay for yours. I wanna hear what he has to say.’ ‘Fine, I will if you do.’ ‘You two cast a long shadow. Deep within the Dark Side of The Force do you reside.’ Absurd: I’m two meters tall, of course I cast a- He has no eyes. Even more off-putting than that tall head of his, but maybe he does know a little of what he’s talking about. No, he just felt it get cooler when we blocked the sun.

There goes twenty credits we’ll never get back. ‘Hold out your hand, if you would, boy.’ All a performance, and Jaxon’s buying it. I guess this isn’t strictly something my training covered, so I can’t be too hard on him. ‘You were born into a gilded cradle of darkness, swaddled in violence. You shut your heart to it long ago, retreating inward to a virtual sanctuary and barring the door. Now you find yourself outgrowing your cradle, and hesitating to face what lies without – not for fear that it is too different, but for fear it is too much the same. If you choose to follow the path set before you, you will be condemned to cast a long shadow, yet straying from it will bring much tumult as well. I do not envy the choice ahead of you.’ That...does feel oddly specific for a charlatan.

No, that’s ridiculous. Jaxon’s practically a minor celebrity around here with how much pull his dad has. Some of the guards must have gossiped in a bar, and this guy just got lucky turning those rumours into a convincing story. Considering how torn up he looks over it, Jaxon could do with having all this explained to him when we’re done. ‘Hey, yeah, that’s uhh, not bad old man. Your turn Koben.’ I’ve only been in town a couple weeks, and he won’t be able to read my body language through my armor. This whole sham will fall apart.

‘I’m not taking the gauntlet off.’ ‘There is no need. The Dark Side flows so deeply within you that I can nearly read it from here. Oh. You poor woman. My apologies, the waters of your past run deep. Allow me to begin again.’ Really trying to pull me in, but I’m not giving him a thing. Good luck old man.

‘For all the darkness that surrounded them, your parents did all they could to raise you into the light. In the wake of a newer, deeper darkness they left you, and it swallowed you whole. The light within you was buried in layers of shadow, and yet it still burned. Even as you were seduced by The Dark Side. Now you try so desperately to run towards the light, but you have gone so long without it that it blinds you. When you fall, you let the shadows loom long over you. The comfort of their cool shade is a falsehood. Though you will stumble, you mustn’t stop running if you ever wish to live in the light again.’ Enough of this.

‘Who are you old man?’ ‘My visions trouble you. They bring to light truths you both would rather leave buried.’ He really must be blind to be so calm with a blaster rifle pointed at him. ‘Answer my question.’ ‘Now I am nobody. I know that is not the answer you seek. Long ago I was a warrior of peace. A guardian of The Force.’ He’d better not say it if he knows what’s good for him. ‘A Jedi.’

Shooting him would draw too much attention. Those gangsters were a matter of self defence, but even I couldn’t intimidate a crowd this size into letting this slide. Better holster it. ‘You’re lucky I don’t get paid to kill your kind any more, old man.’ He’s laughing. Typical Jedi, completely out of touch with reality. ‘My luck ran out long ago, as you can no doubt see. I gave up my ways. Even this was taken from me.’ He’s reaching for a lightsaber. ‘Jaxon, step back.’ Even with his powers, if I shoot the instant he presses that button he’s done.

It’s not turning on. ‘Now it’s only a relic of days gone by, and yet I can’t bear to part with it.’ ‘Why are you telling us this?’ ‘You asked. Why has The Force brought us together is a far better question, I think. Would you begrudge an old man his idle musings?’ ‘Say your piece.’ ‘I can no longer fight for a better galaxy; only guide others. You both, as do all beings, may find the light if you keep searching. I hope my words will help you reach it.’ ‘Goodbye old man.’ He’s earned those credits.

‘Hey Koben, if it’s all the same, I don’t really feel like going to a club any more. Kinda wanna just walk for a while. Think about stuff.’ ‘I feel the same way.’

IV

That was a melancholic afternoon, but Huxleys festivities are doing a good job at making up for it. The food is fantastic at least, and he’s hired mercenary guards so all his regular staff could attend. Needed a few extra tables hauled out to seat them all, and it’s nice to be near the head with Jaxon.

‘Now my friends, trusted retainers, and devoted staff: the revelry shall be brought to a focus. My son Jaxon. I will not taint the record with saccharine reminiscing, the two of us have had our squabbles, as all fathers and sons do.’ He can even manage to make his sons birthday party about himself. ‘But those were the squabbles of a boy and a man. It would hamper his new beginning, and smear my own pride, to hang onto them.’ I wonder if Jaxon will even get to say anything?

My son, please rise. My many allies and tributaries have brought you gifts befitting of your ascension to manhood. Please, take the time to sample them.’ Most of these are a terrible fit for him. Cultural ornaments and knick knacks, safe bets for someone whose interests they don’t have a clue about. ‘Yeah, these are all really, uhh, great so far, thank you.’ They’d be lucky to get a place on his shelf.

‘Hang on, what’s this? Whoa, a quickdraw blaster pistol and holster set?! That’s actually pretty sick, Koben’s been teaching me some moves the last few days, like this – wuchaah!’ His form could use some work. The crowd seems impressed, or at least know that if they don’t pretend they are Huxley won’t be happy.

‘Oh no way, Koben come look at this!’ This should be good. No way, that is impressive. ‘Someone got a little replica of you in your armour made! Cast in Imperial Steel and everything!’ ‘A good likeness.’ A really good likeness, tons of little details I wouldn’t expect anyone to even have seen from looking at footage of me, never mind reproduce. Should do a surveillance sweep when I get home.

‘That’s the last of them. I can’t help but notice there’s nothing here from you, dad. I mean, unless hiring Koben to train me was an early one, because if that’s it then don’t even worry about it, that’s the best gift I’ve ever gotten. No offence to the rest of these, of course.’ Shit, I should’ve gotten him something. Can’t believe I didn’t even think of it.

‘I am glad that you appreciated my investment in your future, but no. That was not my gift to you, my son. Perhaps it is cliche, even sentimental, but I have prepared as a gift for you: a lesson.’ He snapped his fingers. Blaster bolts rippling across my armour. All his guards were in on it. They’re good shots. Can’t stand, can barely focus on what’s going on. Ears are ringing, but Jaxon’s loud enough to get through it.

‘What the fuck are you doing?! Koben’s my friend!’ ‘Your dear preoccupation; Koben. The Trooper adorned in black. Veteran of a thousand battles. Killer. Destroyer. Wanted criminal. My son, did you think someone of her repute would go unnoticed by the law? You, did you think I would not find out about you? That I didn’t know before you ever stepped foot into my manor how lucrative it would be to cash in on your egregious affronts to The Empire?’ Whole body’s on fire. My hate’s burning hotter.

‘It crossed my mind.’ ‘Yet you persisted into my waiting maw because you saw a glitter at the back of my throat. This is a lesson on many subjects, my dear son. Lesson one: mercenaries can only be trusted to do one thing, and that is to chase credits. Lesson two: whenever possible, get as much out of someone as you can take before you toss them aside. Lesson three: childish attachments such as yours to her will only bring you pain.’

Jaxon’s on the edge of tears. Maybe if I click off a plate I can put all my strength into throwing it, take Huxleys smug fucking grin off from here. Can’t lift my arms, there goes that plan. ‘Her bounty is valid dead, my dear boy – and she is far too dangerous to leave alive. That blaster pistol was my suggestion. I can think of no way more fitting to take your first steps into manhood than by casting aside the object of your most infantile fixations. She must be in such agony right now. Her armour can surely take little more, just one well placed shot and you can end her suffering. It is the kindest fate that awaits her.’

If I could reach for my helmet to look him in the eyes at least, I would. ‘Whatever you do Jaxon, I understand. I figured I’d die taking a few people down with me, but this is fine.’ His tears are dying down, his brow is steeled. I don’t have enough strength to hold my head up any more. One crystal clear shot ringing out. No pain.

#my oc #oc #star wars #writing #koben tarani #cw: death #cw: violence

[scrumpledorph-writes]

Koben’s Day Off (Learning How To Be Normal)

I

It’s been a good few days, Jaxon took to the training as well as I could have expected for someone with no experience. One day to let his muscles heal and the concepts sink in, and he should be ready to take on more advanced training for the rest of the week. Not sure how I’ll spend the day, can’t work at a side contract while I’m on retainer. He seems to have no trouble passing his free time, maybe I’ll ask.

Getting familiar with this place. It’s a lot like an old Imperial base once the superficial appeal of the expense wears off. My boots clack on the stone just the same as they used to on steel, and all the closed doors give off the same air of foreboding. The only difference is somehow I feel less welcome here, the same curt professionalism from the guards as we were taught feels like it has an undercurrent of rejection. They must not be used to hosting guests.

‘Good morning Jaxon. Bodily recuperation is an important aspect of training, so today there won’t be any physical conditioning. Given that, I was also planning to abstain from teaching you any more technical skills, so that what I already have can sink in.’ ‘Good, every part of my body has been hurting since the day we started. So, are you just waking me up at a quarter after six wearing your armor because you felt like it, or what?’ I figured he’d have gotten used to it by now.

‘You shouldn’t let your sleep schedule deprecate, it will just make waking up on time tomorrow feel even worse. I’m wearing the armor because it’s comfortable.’ ‘Sure, I guess. Just don’t slave drive me through the morning like you have been, alright?’ ‘What do you mean? That’s how I always wake up.’ ‘You always count out your strokes when you’re brushing your teeth, that wasn’t just like a “getting me into the boot camp mindset” sorta deal? Damn.’ ‘Since I was fifteen. Once this training gets into you, it doesn’t come out. That’s the point. Discipline has saved me from more blasters than you’ve ever seen.’

Not just other people’s. When I felt like every day was pointless and I was going to be stuck at rock bottom for the rest of my life, I remembered my instructor telling me that suicide is the coward’s way out of a bad situation and got up anyway. I haven’t heard them in twenty years, but my range officer’s instructions still ring in my ears every time I pull out my blaster, I can still see the motions of the quarter master’s hands every time I service it. My drill instructor, my squad leader, even Tessa are all over my shoulder judging everything I do. I can’t bear the thought of dying a disgrace to the Empire, even now.

‘Well it’s not into me, so just give me a few minutes to wake up, alright? I’m not wearing much under these covers.’ Close the door, give him some privacy. He has an attached bathroom suite, so I can wait here for him. I hope he doesn’t think I’m being too pushy. I’m almost twice his age, is it acceptable for us to interact outside of work hours? We’ve certainly been growing more friendly with each other, but it’s a professional sort of friendliness. Everyone else around here is on the clock, and Huxley’s poetic waxing is difficult to stay awake through.

I wonder if all this has tarnished his image of me. Maybe he’ll leave that forum of his, or tell everyone what I’ve confided in him, ruin the mystery for the rest of his peers. Why do I suddenly care about that? It would be for the best. The fewer eyes on me the better, and I went five years of independent contract work without knowing about it. It’s not like they’re officers, or clients, so I hardly need to care about their opinion of me. But if I can’t even impress people like them, then what does that say about my skills? Skills don’t matter if you’re so thoroughly unappealing in every other aspect. I can earn credits, but never respect.

‘Alright, I’m up. You waiting for me?’ ‘Yes. I don’t know the layout of the mansion. Your father mentioned a variety of amenities, but I’ve spent so much of my time working with you that I haven’t had the chance to find them. I was hoping you could act as a guide.’ ‘Sure. After breakfast though. Real breakfast; if this is a day off I’m not choking down three “nutritionally complete” piles of unseasoned meat and vegetables.’ ‘They are nutritionally complete, there’s no need for sarcasm.’ ‘There’s more to food than nutrients! That’s the part I’m emphasizing!’ ‘Nothing I’m familiar with.’

It makes sense that this pantry would be decadently stocked, but I’ve never even heard of most of these seasonings, let alone the rest of the ingredients. ‘So, since you’re our guest, what are you in the mood for? Our chef used to work at one of the finest restaurants on Coruscant, until he called an Imperial officer an inbred degenerate for wanting his steak well done and had to flee to the outer rim, so he can whip up pretty much anything.’ He sounds like he’d get along well with Vranki’s doctor. ‘I don’t think I can appreciate the potential on offer. You pick something for me.’

‘Hey Glipnort, could you whip us up an omelette? She wants it “nutritionally complete”, and I want it to be the best thing she’s ever eaten. Make whatever you think will fit both of those bills, please.’ The outer rim really is full of surprising species’. Only a handful are considered civilized enough to be seen in any real density in the core. Three legs, and five arms evenly distributed around his torso, which is also where his face is. Not even going to try to fathom what his home planet is like.

‘So, what’d you have planned for after breakfast?’ ‘I don’t know enough about your mansion or this city to decide.’ ‘Yeah but like if you could just do whatever, what would it be?’ I’ve never been asked this before. Hobbies are a completely common social marker, even talking about your hobbies is something that comes naturally once you feel passionately enough about one. The officers and diplomats used to drone on about their obscure sports or having just bought an expensive portrait from some artist I’d never heard of. What do I like doing?

‘You alright Koben? You’re kinda zoning out on me, you have hobbies don’t you?’ ‘I don’t. I spend most of my time working to make enough money to be able to travel the outer rim as necessary, and the rest of the time outside of that maintaining my physique, equipment, and skills so that my work doesn’t kill me. I tried dating recently, but it didn’t go well.’ Silence, shock. Nothing else to fill the seconds with. ‘Wow. That’s ffffuckin’ depressing. You open to suggestions?’ ‘I am.’ ‘Great, I can think of a few things. After we’re done eating though, food’s here.’

This is the best meal I’ve ever eaten. Most military meal guides are simple, designed for modular substitution in case of shortages and providing enough nutrition to spend the next several hours marching. This is different. Minuscule traces of dozens of ingredients all working in perfect lock step towards reinforcing each other, covering for weaknesses and emphasizing strengths. If I could have a squad work together this well, the ten of us could take an entire planet. I almost feel wasteful just eating it, like the galaxy will never see its like again and it should be preserved as a symbol of aspiration.

‘So, what do you think – it’s good, right?’ ‘Yes. You eat meals like this every day?’ ‘Not every day, these ingredients are pretty expensive. Just the dash of spice in this probably cost a hundred credits. But like I said; you’re my guest, and I’m treating you to the special occasion food. The normal stuff is still pretty good though.’ ‘I’m going to eat this very slowly.’ ‘Sounds good. Meet me in my room when you’re done, got a game you might like.’

II

Not used to being able to leave my dishes for someone else to clean up. Can definitely see how this lifestyle has made Jaxon soft. Hopefully all the free time he has has left him with a good taste in games. ‘Oh hey, glad you took so long – I barely got the table set up. You ever played a war game?’ ‘We had war game exercises every week in the academy.’ ‘No, not that kind of war game dummy, the kind you play on a tabletop!’ ‘I’m not familiar.’ Do we need all of these little dolls to play?

‘Well, I figure given your history, you’ll like Thunder Soldiers: it’ll be nice and familiar.’ ‘Those are obviously Stormtroopers.’ ‘Well yeah, obviously, but they don’t have an agreement with the Empire to use the official names and likenesses – they’ve gotta be legally distinct.’ ‘Is there a game that does? I think I’d appreciate a more accurate representation.’ ‘There is, but it sucks. The guys who made this game used to play that game, but got fed up with it and made this one instead.’ Sounds like Imperial politics.

‘How do we play?’ ‘The basic premise is both sides have to make a ten man squad, then fight over an area. Here, you can thumb through the rule book.’ These rules are completely unrealistic. Weapon ranges are too short, obstructions don’t penalize accuracy enough, and the armor is rated far too highly.

‘This is a completely unrealistic simulation. The longest range weapons in this game barely function within the average skirmish distance of a real firefight, and the battlefield conditions they say make for a short skirmish would call for an hours long stalemate or the use of heavy ordnance to break enemy positions. On top of that, Stormtrooper armor just doesn’t work this way, it disseminates the penetrating force of a blaster bolt, yes – but it doesn’t neutralize it completely, only specialized troopers are afforded anything close to that, and the thermal properties of even the weakest blaster weapons make it so that completely mitigating a bolt is something that only vehicle grade plating is capable of. It’s just meant to downgrade a lethal shot to a concussion so you can be resuscitated after the battle.’

‘Wow, you sure you haven’t played this before? You sound just like the critics. They made those changes on purpose, because tournaments of the official game do simulate all that accurately, and every match turns into an hour of rolling misses. Trust me, even if it’s not realistic, it’s fun. Now pick your squad leader, I’ve got plenty.’

This game really seems not to understand the role a squad leader plays. Most of them have special weaponry, which is the exact opposite of what they’re meant to carry. That makes them priority targets, especially with some of these being dangerously reactive if hit. I guess if they don’t have rules for keeping these sorts of things in sealed boxes that’s the best compromise they can do, but it’s still – hang on, is that me?

‘Oh, that one! Yeah, uhh, I kind of forgot that one was in there. That’s a custom leader I made when I was first getting into the game a couple years ago. It’s, uhh, well I put you in the game. It’s not really balanced at all, I used the rules to give the whole squad budget to one unit, but it turns out that kind of fucks the math completely. Nothing can hit you and you can fire like four blaster bolts with perfect accuracy per turn, it’s pretty dumb. Don’t use it.’

I have to use it. It’s been years since I had squad reinforcement, so I might as well start with something I’m familiar with. Plus I’ve never played this game before, so I should take all the advantages I can get.

That was completely unrealistic, but I can see what he meant about that making it more fun. No way I could take on a whole squad in one stand up gun fight in real life, I’d need to pick them off quietly either alone or in groups of two. ‘You’re right, that was a fun game. I’m not that good in real life though.’ ‘Okay, now that you’ve proven how bad of an idea that custom character was, do you want to try a real round?’ ‘Alright.’ The radio operator looks good, well timed orbital ordnance has won me plenty of ground campaigns.

I have to admit, even with the minutia being incorrect, in aggregate this is an acceptably realistic simulation. ‘Oh c’mon, you barely know the rules, how’d you win without even losing a guy?’ ‘There was a jungle planet I was fighting on where almost identical scenarios to this one happened every three weeks. I just applied the strategies we used against the real locals. Encircle a position, press the enemy inward, take them all out with one heavy ordnance strike. It works because they’re so afraid of individual losses that they gradually retreat from their positions, meter by meter.’ ‘Wow, guess that might have been a bit close to home then. Let’s do another round, different scenario, different squad leaders.’ I was getting reminded of my time in the Corps, not exactly what I’d choose for a game. I’ll use the engineer this time, I was pretty rarely on defence.

‘Alright, this is starting to feel like bullshit. I used those same tactics you used against me and got completely wiped out, so what the fuck?’ ‘Those tactics only work against an unfortified position, for a conventional siege you need to either starve the enemy out or breach a vulnerable part of their defences. You trickled men in at first, then rallied for a single charge with less than half of your forces. You might have won the day with heavy losses if you’d done that from the beginning, but it would have been by thin margins.’

‘Did you learn that one from a real campaign?’ ‘Yes. Larger scale warfare. Thousands of soldiers on either side – we had the city blockaded, but they had shield generators to prevent orbital bombardment. After enough attempts at probing for weak spots, the ground around the city was a featureless no man’s land for a kilometer out on all sides – scorched by repeated heavy blaster fire.’ ‘Damn...that sounds brutal. How’d you manage to win that?’

‘We held our positions, kept their forces from leaving the city. Other forces ravaged the rest of the planet while it was left relatively undefended, and eventually their leaders signed a surrender after we held all the refugees travelling towards the capital hostage.’ ‘Wow. You, uhh, you don’t sound very torn up about that.’ ‘It was a callous order, but it ended up saving more lives than it cost in the long run. I don’t know how every soldier treated them, but I was professional with the refugees I was tasked with managing. The week was rough, but I’d have made the same call.’ ‘Cool, cool. Hey, do you want to do something else maybe?’ I was having fun. I guess he’s a sore loser.

III

‘How about we listen to an album or something? I’m just gonna take a guess and say you don’t have too many opinions on music, do you?’ ‘Just nothing classical.’ It was all Tessa listened to. Lots of bad memories made to it. ‘No worries on that front, dad listens to a lot of it – I always thought it was pretty boring. Gonkrock sound good?’ I’ve never heard of that genre in my life. ‘Sure.’

This music is intense. It sounds like how blaster fire sailing over your head feels – overwhelming and smothering, but invigorating at the same time. Like if you don’t move you’ll die, so there’s nothing to do but throw caution to the wind and trust your life to a flurry of violence. I didn’t know music could make you feel this way.

Imperial anthems are austere and command respect, marching tunes have a rigid cadence that demands you fall in line, but this is raw. I can tell the band has no experience, and the singer will be mute if she keeps going like this, but they’re screaming their unfiltered passion for the whole galaxy to hear. It’s beautiful, it’s awful. I hate what it is musically, but I want to live what it is emotionally. ‘So, what’d you think of the first song?’

‘It sounded very bad, but in a way that I enjoyed. It made me feel the way I only do in combat, so I think we should stop listening to it to be safe.’ ‘Whoa. That’s a bit of an – intense reaction. I mean, most people think it sounds enjoyably shitty, but that last part I mean. Like what do you think’s gonna happen if we keep listening?’ ‘I don’t know. It fills my body with energy and adrenaline, which I’m only used to discharging through combat. I wouldn’t want to hurt you.’ He’s laughing. Surely he doesn’t think three days of training is enough to hold his own against me.

‘Well yeah, no shit, it’s mosh music – you just need to get up and flail around, let the energy out. That’s how you’re supposed to feel.’ ‘I’m not used to using my body like that. Could you demonstrate?’ ‘It’ll look a bit dumb without music, but sure. You just get up and you kinda go like this.’ He looks ridiculous. His movements have no rhyme or reason whatsoever, completely unstructured. But that’s how the music sounded, and I liked that.

‘Alright, I think I’m ready to try. Put the music on, but at a lower volume for a dry run. We can reevaluate after.’ I understand the logic behind this combination. The wild abandon of these movements compliment the passionate carelessness of the composition, augmenting the feelings while keeping them from reaching critical mass. ‘I understand the concept now. You can turn the music back up.’

These songs all blend together, make the minutes pass quickly. An obvious consequence is that the longer I spend flailing, the higher my core temperature rises. ‘Pause the music please.’ ‘Oh, what’s wrong, is it not working out for you any more?’ ‘No. My armor is skin tight, and I’m starting to sweat. Those are an unpleasant combination. My civilian clothes also accommodate sweat poorly. Would you be bothered if I continued in my underwear?’

Bothered isn’t the reaction I expect, but outright asking if it would arouse him would only deepen any awkward feelings. Barrack life desensitized me to the sexual appeal of underwear, but after seeing the uniform of Vranki’s girls it’s hard not to be reminded of how other people see them. This is entertaining though, and I’d like to keep going without needing to scrub out my body glove.

‘W-well, I mean, Koben – I know you don’t know this so I’m not, like, expecting anything; but generally stripping down to your underwear while raving is kind of a thing that happens right before boning down.’ I can infer what that term means. ‘I assumed there were connotations. Keep your clothes on in that case, you don’t seem to be bothered by the exertion.’ ‘I’m cold blooded, so I guess I can’t relate. Fine, uhh, I’ll do my best to not overreact, but, well, I mean – don’t say I didn’t warn you if I do anything weird.’

‘If you try anything inappropriate, I’m more than capable of stopping you.’ ‘Right, yeah, just imagine you snapping my wrist, that’ll put a damper on things. Alright, sure, go ahead. Ill be here when you get back.’ ‘I don’t need to walk back to my room just to take my armor off.’ ‘Hey that’s great, glad to hear it – I just realized I could do with a trip to the bathroom, maybe a glass of water. How long does it take to get out of that suit?’ ‘Under three minutes.’ ‘Cool, sounds good. You just go ahead and turn the music back on and keep dancing if you’re out of it when I get back. I’ve listened to this album like a hundred times, you can tell me about it when you’re done.’

Much better. The armor doesn’t hamper my range of movement by any meaningful amount, but the weight of it makes my movements a little more deliberate. That’s antithetical to what this music is about. It feels good. Symbolic. I’ve spent so long bound by rules and expectations that this is like a little act of rebellion, just for me. Not consequential enough to feel like I’m betraying the Empire, but personal enough to feel significant.

Why do I still care so much about the Empire? I’ve been a criminal for five years, and I killed my last connection to it when I left. Everything I’ve enjoyed since then has fallen afoul of it. Brayli’s beautiful curves are against bodily maintenance codes, this manor is built on crime, and I used to get called in to shut down concerts that sounded just like this.

I guess I still feel like I owe them for saving me from the mines, but I spent the next fifteen years working for them. I must have paid off my debt to them in that time. They even said I was one of the best soldiers they had. I hunted Jedi! Yeah, this shrieking woman has it right. “Fuck the Empire” indeed. The music stopped, the album must be over.

IV

‘So how’d you like the album?’ ‘Jaxon, why were you just watching me from the doorway?’ ‘Well for one thing, you were flailing so hard you’d have probably knocked me out if I’d tried to join you.’ ‘I see. It wasn’t that my underwear was too revealing?’ ‘Nah. When you first mentioned it I thought you were wearing like a bra and panties or something – that’s basically just a summer outfit, it’s fine. Guess military underwear can’t be too revealing or else you’d have been too busy fuckin’ and suckin’ to get anything done.’ ‘If that happened the Empire would find a way to streamline the process so it didn’t impede our work.’ Good to be able to joke about the soldier life with somebody.

‘The other reason is you were smiling, and it looked really nice on you. I mean you look really nice all the time, but like this wasn’t in a sexy way. You just looked like you were having a fun time, and I didn’t want you to feel self conscious knowing I was there. Sorry if you do now though, I guess.’ ‘I don’t. I’m glad to hear it, in fact. Smiling isn’t something I do often, and it doesn’t feel uncomfortable to be complimented on it.’ ‘You feel uncomfortable getting compliments?’

Enough people have said I’m attractive at this point that I suppose the only logical way to continue is to start thinking it’s true. It took hours of back and forth with the bacta engineer to decide how to make my body look, and Tessa took a vested interest in giving me suggestions – but she told me that she was tailoring it to look good to her. ‘My old girlfriend told me that my body was a guilty pleasure she let herself indulge in, and that I should keep it hidden from other people so it doesn’t scare them. So when someone compliments it, I feel like there must be something wrong with them, and that I shouldn’t accept compliments from someone like that.’

He’s stunned. I’ve been starting to think that must not be the case lately, considering Brayli is so sweet, and Seline is such an expert, and they were both attracted to me. Jaxon is a teenage boy – they’re not exactly known for being very discerning about their taste in women, but the three of them together make a well rounded panel of judges.

‘Koben, I don’t even know what to say. I kind of want to ask my dad to put out a hit on your ex girlfriend right now.’ ‘She’s already dead.’ ‘Oh, good, glad to hear it. You’re – okay, I’ve been trying not to say it because you’re my teacher and all; but it sounds like you could do with having it spelled out for you – so do I have permission? I’m not gonna keep myself from getting, uhh, graphic about it.’ ‘Proceed.’ It sounds like I could use an outside perspective.

‘You’re really hot. Like, I mean, holy shit. I know we kind of already went through this a couple days ago, but clearly you don’t get it. Those muscles of yours? Hot as hell. Half the time when you threaten to put me in a headlock it turns me on. There’s a – I don’t really expect you to know anything about this, but there’s like an entire category of adult holovids dedicated to muscular women, and you’re even more built than most of them.’ ‘Do you browse this category often?’ ‘H-hey, c’mon, focus here!’ I suppose so, from that response. He has no reason to be lying, so I guess muscles on women are considered attractive.

‘Your ex-military look is also a huge turn on. The way you carry yourself, your resting expression, the scar: I mean you even said it yourself how hot you were for your old teacher, that’s how I feel about you! Or at least, how I felt – we’re friends so I don’t really see that any more when I look at you, I just see Koben, but before we really got to know each other I definitely could see you levying out “punishment”, if you get my meaning.’ ‘I do. This is a lot to take in, but keep going.’ Maybe I should have put that one together on my own. I guess I just thought most people grew out of liking being punished because they didn’t feel so guilty.

‘This is – well, fuck it I guess, I’m already oversharing. Sometimes when you’re not in your armor I can see just like a tiiiiny bit of bush poking out of your waistband and shirt, and that’s just really hot. Like, sometimes implication is a lot hotter than just flat out seeing it, and combined with how you’re not even trying to do it it just – I’m running out of ways to say it.’ Huh. I wanted to get rid of that hair because it gets caught in the body glove if I don’t shave it often enough, but Tessa insisted on keeping it.

‘It’s starting to sound like everything about me is attractive. But that makes no sense to me. I’m not trying to be attractive, so how could I be doing it?’ Nobody ever felt this way about the other soldiers.

‘Because you’re a woman! You’re a woman who’s being herself, and that’s one of the hottest things a woman can be! A lot of the prostitutes dad sometimes hires for guests aren’t half as sexy as you are because they’re obviously putting a ton of effort into it, and like; I appreciate that effort, don’t get me wrong, but it makes it feel fake. How obviously you’re not trying to be sexy is the sexiest thing about you!’ Oh. I guess I am a woman to people. Now it all makes sense. I’ve felt this way about women for a long time.

‘I see. I never really felt like a woman. No, that’s not true: I never felt like other people felt I was a woman. My ex always told me that it would be best for me to wear the armour around other people, because they could tell I used to be a man anyway. That she was the only one who could accept me for what I was.’ ‘Hey Koben, you gave me permission to say anything about you – could you extend that to your ex real quick?’ ‘Granted.’

‘Fuck her. She sounds like a cunt, and you must have had horrible taste in women to fall for her. I hope since then you’ve come to your senses on that at least, because she must’ve really done a number on you if it took me spelling out how hot you are for you to realize it.’ Maybe she did. ‘Thank you. I’ve had moments where I thought similar things about her, but I always figured she must have known better than me since she was my superior officer, and a real woman.’

‘Look I’m gonna be honest – at this point it sounds like everything she said about you must have been wrong. You’re hot, you’re a real woman, and if you really need more proof: let me go find you one of the dancer outfits, take a few pictures of you, put them up online, and check back tomorrow to see what people have to say.’ I trust him. He’s too awkward to lie anyway. I can see myself in his mirror right now. If I saw a woman who looked like this, I’d be pretty turned on too. He’s right. I am a real woman.

I really can’t thank him enough for saying all this. Hopefully being able to laugh about it will get the point across. ‘Nice try you little pervert, your father doesn’t have enough credits to put me in one of those outfits.’ ‘Ah well, I had to try. You ready for lunch?’

#my oc #oc #star wars #writing #koben tarani #transgender

[scrumpledorph-writes]

Koben’s Biggest Fan (A Seventeen Year Old Nerd)

I

Packed up just about everything I own, rather not take the chance on any looters or squatters finding it. Huxley gave me a strongbox and key for the valuables – I can’t imagine anything other than the credits would be at risk, but the security is appreciated. Guess all that’s left to do is go meet his son.

Figure if he knows me from security footage he’ll mostly recognize the armor. Fine by me, changing out of it would be a hassle. His room’s at the very back of the manor, I suppose he likes his privacy. Even if he’s young he’s still a criminal, should make sure to announce my presence – not catch a reflexive pistol bolt. ‘Jaxon, can I come in?’ ‘Yeah, sure, whatever.’

Covered windows, poor ventilation, dim lighting; a far cry from how his father styles his space. Now how do I introduce myself? I doubt my name’s been pinned down on any of those holovids he’s watched, and I’ve never had a fan before. Maybe he can take the lead once he recognizes me. ‘Your father told me you liked my work, could you turn around so we can speak properly?’

‘Yeah sure, whate- no way, are you serious?! You’re not just one of his goons in a costume he had whipped up, are you?!’ ‘I don’t have any way to prove that.’ ‘Oh shit you are, that’s just what you’d say! I’m Jaxon, but you already knew that I guess. I’d seen footage of you slaughtering that gang over in Dunton, by the way that was some of your best work – the way you crashed through that wall and towered over him at the end was an absolute masterpiece – but I never thought I’d actually get to meet you! Unless you were hired to kill me, of course.’ This feels wrong, somehow.

I’m no stranger to violence, but I don’t do it for fun. He sounds like a voyeur. ‘He hired me to-’ ‘Oh oh oh, can I touch your plating?! How is it always in perfect condition after every vid, do you have a dedicated mechanic? Can I meet them too?’ Seems like I should let him get this out of his system before I put him through boot camp. I can take an arm plate off.

‘There’s a layer of thermal weave under each plate, it absorbs most of the heat from blaster bolts. I check it after every mission and replace any spent fabric as needed. I also have a protective paint I reapply to the plates whenever it wears thin that prevents corrosion, rust, and other everyday weathering. Sometimes I need to take them to a specialist to remove dents, and I needed a new breastplate machined once, but they’re very durable when taken proper care of.’ It is nice to talk to someone else about this stuff, equipment maintenance is the most important part of the job.

‘No way that’s so cool, you can just swap the plates out whenever they get worn down. I thought they were just one big welded chassis, but I guess whoever built you must have wanted you to last forever! Where are your circuits though, is this fabric some sort of camouflage for your neural harness?’ What the hell is he talking about?

‘I’m not a droid, I’m a human.’ ‘What?! No fucking way, you’re kidding, can you just hold on a sec while I get my holovid recorder and say that again? That debate’s been raging for years on the forum.’ ‘There’s a forum for talking about me?’ This is getting weird.

‘Not just you specifically, it’s for fans of all kinds of bounty hunting footage! The section for outlaw bounty killers is a lot smaller, so topics get pretty insular and retreaded fairly often. Obviously I’ve always argued that you were a droid, because I mean, come on, the way you carry yourself is so exacting and precise, and you’re so big and strong, that you couldn’t blame me, right? Umm, you’re not mad at me, are you?’ ‘This sounds inconsequential, so no.’ Hopefully putting him through some real combat training will make this hobby less appealing.

‘Oh, phew, glad to hear it. I’ve kind of spent a lot of time theory crafting about your origins, do you want to hear?’ This feels like it could go on all day. ‘Maybe later. Your father hired me to train you. If you take well to it, we can talk more about this at the end of the day.’ Not used to reward based motivation, but Imperial punishments probably won’t go over well here.

‘Oh, in that case, yes sir!’ ‘I’m a woman.’ ‘You are? But I thought...wow. Okay, yes ma’am! I’ve never done anything like this, what should we do first?’ He looks so emaciated his arms wouldn’t even need leverage to snap, and I’ve never seen a chair with such well worn grooves. ‘Physical conditioning – we’ll get a feel for your limits, then start pushing them. I’ve been told this place has a gym, meet me there. Change into something more breathable, I’m going to do the same.’

It’s been years since I’ve had to exercise with anybody else, and these clothes I bought don’t leave as much surface area uncovered as I’d like – but it would be irresponsible to meet him in my underwear. He’s already obsessed with me, and Seline said that I have an attractive body. If anybody can be considered an authority on the subject it would be a prostitute. With how little exercise he gets, he might have a heart attack. I can double layer my casual shirt and roll the pant legs up as far as they can go, that should suffice.

II

‘W-wow, hey there ma’am. Could I get your name, by the way? It would be huge if you told me what it was, that’s another thing that people debate on the forums.’ He’s having a hard time looking me in the eye, his are darting all over the room. My first name shouldn’t hurt, a gesture of trust for a future partnership. ‘Koben.’ ‘Aww, seriously? Uhh, sorry, that’s a nice name, it’s just that that’s one of the going theories I didn’t believe.’ I’m actually starting to get curious about all this, how deep do these discussions go?

‘What was your theory? Tell me while we warm up with some stretches, copy my movements.’ Basic aerobics so he doesn’t end up in a bacta tank doing the harder exercises. ‘Oh, you actually want to know? It’s kinda stupid, don’t worry about it.’ ‘Let me rephrase: as your instructor, I order you to tell me. And straighten your knees.’

‘Yes ma’am – Koben! Well, you don’t exactly talk while you’re on the job, I get it, you don’t want to give anybody clues. Not like the glory chasing bounty hunters who only take big flashy jobs so they can get a toy deal.’ Who’d want toys of a bounty hunter? If you’re going to be enthralled by violence, at least do it yourself. ‘I killed one of those yesterday. Stay focused, and switch legs.’

He seems distracted, far in excess of just his storytelling. ‘Anyway, most of the time when other people in your videos refer to you, they call you “trooper”. Working off my droid theory at the time, I figured that must have been short for a designation – Tr00p3r. In hindsight it was a bit of a shitty theory, I never could find a droid designation that matched that name, but the guy who kept saying it was just such an asshole about it that admitting he was right would have driven me up the wall.’ This forum is starting to sound like it has too much information on me.

‘How many people use this forum?’ ‘Well the main forum has thousands of posters, but if you mean how many people talk about you, it’s maybe a couple dozen at the most. I keep the place curated, anybody who shit talks you catches a lifetime ban.’ That’s a low enough number to track down, but also a low enough number to be unlikely to accomplish anything with that information. I won’t worry about it, if he’s their most powerful member then they’re harmless.

‘Noted, thank you. Let’s continue in silence for now.’ He’s having a hard time doing basic stretches, even the academy conscripts were better off than this. It would help if he could watch my demonstration longer than five seconds. I’ll bring it up after the set as something to work on tomorrow.

This is kind of nice. He really seems to appreciate my work. It felt uncomfortable at first knowing that there were eyes on me, but the only part anybody else ever appreciated about it was the results. Knowing there are people who can recognize all the training that went into being able to do it almost makes me feel like I owe it to them to keep going. Then again, with this payout I likely won’t need to work for a while. Losing a few fans is worth taking some time to relax.

‘Koben, can we please take a break? My arms feel like they’re on fire.’ He’d have gotten the rod for that in the academy, but I need to temper my expectations. There were plenty of washouts, but I don’t get paid if he quits. ‘Fine. You barely managing that gives me a good grasp on your physical abilities anyway. That was the more important part.’ Let’s go grab a drink.

This water is good. Is it fresh? Most of what I’ve bought on this planet has been reprocessed, has a chemical taste to it, but this tastes pure. He doesn’t seem to appreciate it. ‘There’s no use drinking that much at a time, your body won’t process it. You’ll just end up wasting it.’ ‘It’s water, we can drink as much of it as we need.’ Definitely spoiled by a life of luxury. ‘On desert planets like this, my squad used to get attacked for our water rations. Appreciate it.’ ‘Yes Koben.’ I should find out what his problem was during the workout.

‘You seemed to be having a hard time watching my demonstration.’ ‘Oh, uhh, yeah, sorry, I’m just not used to keeping eye contact with folks is all, I spend so much time online.’ Deflection. A nervous tone. It’s better to get rid of any obstacles now. ‘You looked me in the visor with no difficulty.’ ‘Well, I mean, that’s a visor, y’know? That’s different. I mean, c’mon, I thought I was talking to a droid, not a...’ I think I can piece together where this is going, but making him say it is the only way to drag him over this hill. ‘Finish that sentence.’

‘A really hot babe...’ That’s what I thought. This is awkward for me, but it must be a hundred times worse for him. ‘You have permission to speak freely about me. We’ll be spending the next week together, so we should get any difficulties like this out of the way now. No use wasting your father’s credits on ineffective training.’ ‘Well when you were in the armor you were just kind of a vaguely human shaped blob, nothing weird about that even when you said you were a woman, but then to go from that to this, like, immediately with no warning – like if you’d showed up wearing lighter armor I would have had time to get used to it, y’know? But you went from a faceless genderless droid suit to a muscle girl pinup poster in no time flat, that’s just not fair!’ This is getting somewhat endearing. I used to feel this way about a few of the disciplinarians.

‘I considered this before meeting you in the gym, and thought I took sufficient steps to mitigate it. I don’t consider my attire sexual – and I know this is going to keep being awkward, but could you describe specifically what about my presentation comes across that way?’ Now I’m starting to feel bad for pressing him, but this really needs to get taken care of if we’re going to be able to work together.

‘Well, I mean, okay, sorry – I didn’t mean to call you a pinup model. But, it’s just, there’s a lot of nuance to it that’s really hard to convey, and the fact that you didn’t even try makes it even hotter.’ ‘I’m willing to listen as long as it takes to solve this. Embarrassment is the least arduous thing I’ll be putting you through.’ ‘That, come on! That’s an innuendo, don’t say stuff like that!’ How could he possibly misconstrue that as sexual? That was a borderline threat.

‘I was referring to training. Knife fighting, blaster handling, and basic unarmed combat are all foundational to my work, and your father wants you to learn them.’ ‘Okay that’s – just say what you mean. I’m not dumb, I know that obviously there’s no way for there to ever...be anything between us – like it’ll never happen, but that doesn’t stop my mind from wandering when you leave a statement open ended like that. You must think I’m just a creepy little fucking freak, don’t you?’ I’ve been getting better at being emotional lately, but this is going to really test my skills. It helps that he reminds me of myself when I was his age, under all the training.

‘No. I understand exactly how you feel.’ ‘What, how? You’re so stony and focused, no shot you ever felt like this about anybody.’ That hurts a little. ‘I’m going to tell you a story, but only if you promise not to tell your forum. It’s personal.’ ‘Sure, you’ve already given me like ten times as much info as we managed to scrape together ourselves.’ ‘When I was in the Imperial Storm Trooper Academy-’ ‘You were a Storm Trooper? That makes a lot of sense actually. Sorry, that’s another thing we debate about, I’ll try not to interrupt again.’ What part of my life haven’t they dissected at this point?

‘When I was just starting, they used to discipline me for my accent. They said it was unbecoming of a Storm Trooper, because a representative of the Empire needed to sound clear and confident.’ I’ve never told anybody about this, almost can’t believe I am now. ‘What the fuck, that’s horrible!’ ‘For minor infractions it was just my instructor, but those minor infractions built up into major infractions. Major infractions were carried out by a dedicated disciplinarian.’ Hopefully me embarrassing myself will make him feel more comfortable. Talking about this feels good, somehow. Like someone taking a supply pack off my shoulders.

‘You seem to have a healthy sexual appetite, so imagine what this did to a fifteen year old boy’s brain.’ ‘You said you’re a woman though.’ Oh right, not everybody grows up the way I did. ‘I was a boy, who became a soldier, who became a woman, who became an outlaw. Regardless; how do you think you would react if an older woman, about the age I am now, in a skintight Imperial Black uniform locked you in a stockade and whipped you across the back with a crop?’ He doesn’t even need to answer, I can see him picturing it. I’m laughing. I guess this is all pretty absurd, why not laugh about it?

‘Holy shit I think I’d bust on the spot!’ ‘I don’t know what you mean when you say “bust”, do you mean-’ ‘Don’t say it, but the horniest interpretation you can think of is the right one.’ Dialects change so strangely. ‘Anyway, that’s – I mean damn, for one thing that’s awful, I’m sorry to hear it. But also, like on the other hand – holy shit. Why the hell do they need to go around conquering planets, the Empire could fund all the projects in the galaxy if they just got into the porn industry.’ He really is starting to sound like some of my old foul mouthed squadmates. The fun ones.

‘I think I’d have done a lot worse at that career than at being a soldier. The point is, I would think about that for days after it was done. We lived in barracks with a rigorously regimented schedule, so I never had an opportunity to-’ I still don’t think we’re familiar enough for me to say those words out loud yet.

‘Yeah, I getcha. So, uhh, and let me know if this is me reading it wrong – but are you saying you’re okay with me practically drooling over you? Because, I mean, like, that’s totally doable. I was looking away to try to be polite because otherwise I’d just have been thinking about, well – y’know; like, the whole workout.’ At least he knows when to be honest with an authority figure. ‘You’ve managed to maintain eye contact throughout this whole conversation. Have you been doing that this entire time?’

‘No. No, now that you mention it I haven’t. I guess, I dunno, now that we’re talking you feel less like a celebrity and more just like a person. A person who went through some really fucked up shit, by the way, just want to reiterate that part. But, uhh, yeah, I don’t really talk to people much, and women even less, so I guess – sorry for being weird about it.’ Not used to accepting apologies without reprimanding someone.

‘Well, if you ever need to be weird about it again, let me set a guideline so we can stop talking about this and get back to your training: I don’t encourage it, and I’ll certainly never participate in it, but whatever actions you take that don’t involve me and that I’m left unaware of; I have no say in. Do you understand?’ ‘Yeah, crystal clear. I’ll, uhh, well – I certainly won’t talk about anything I may or may not hypothetically do to relieve any theoretical awkward feelings that arise due to any potential opinions I have about any parts of your body.’ He’s a funny kid, not sure if he’s doing it on purpose or not. Huxley should cut him some slack.

‘With that many qualifiers you communicated almost nothing at all. You’d make a great officer. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, our break is over. You’ve had enough time to recover from your warmup, time to start the real workout.’ ‘Fuuuuck.’

#my oc #oc #star wars #writing #koben tarani

[scrumpledorph-writes]

Koben's Toughest Job Yet (Tutoring A Shut-In)

I

Feeling especially well rested this morning – I found a productive outlet for all that stress that was compromising my judgment before I did anything too rash, and being reminded of that trial always makes me feel satisfied. Almost makes up for last n– stop it, that’s an irrelevant line of thought. I’ve been too soft on myself lately; I live a tough life and I need a disciplined mindset to keep it together. Not even going to think her name any more, she may as well not exist. I have more urgent concerns.

Got far too close to Vranki last night, I really need to find other employers. She’s completely ignorant of the way the Empire does things, that’s a time bomb waiting to go off. Could take the day to go to another town, reconnaissance a more populated area, that would pass some time. Never realized how long days feel when I’m not looking forward to seeing B– stop. it. Still, there are only so many hours in a day I can spend training and maintaining my equipment. I’ll get those out of the way and see where that leaves me.

Workout routine hasn’t changed since the Purge Corps, no reason to change a formula that works by adding something new, like a girl- nope. Nothing at all like that. Like aesthetic exercises. They look nice, and make you feel good, but they do nothing to make you more productive. Best to just not even bother with them. Warmup’s done.

Core exercises, the center of a well disciplined body, figuratively and literally. A well padded core like her- like the Imperial Soldier’s Bodily Maintenance Guide recommends can greatly reduce the impact of a dispersed blaster round on the body, reducing concussed organs to bruised muscles. If you take good care of them and treat them right, they’ll support you through even the toughest challenges. Onto the legs.

The core might be the center, but it’s the legs that get things done. The focal point of power for a lot of practical concerns, a good set of legs will take you a lot farther in lifting heavy things, like a fat girlf- mortar rounds, and other heavy munitions. They help build a solid foundation that will make everything else in your life easier. Finish with the upper body.

They might get a disproportionate emphasis relative to their importance, but the arms are still a good thing to keep conditioned. They’re essential for hugging wo- comforting your girlf- caressing thi- squeezing brea- this isn’t working. I need something more involved to keep my mind off of her, I could practically do a workout in my sleep. A knock at the door, just in time – maybe I can take my time killing this bounty hunter, let them shoot me once or twice, fill up the whole day dealing with the aftermath.

Blaster pistol at the ready, shoot the second I see them. ‘Don’t shoot, we’re here to offer you a job!’ Good reflexes on these two, and I was going to spend the day looking for work anyway. ‘I’m listening. If you found me out here, I take it you already know about me?’ ‘That’s right miss, we’ve been looking for you on behalf of Huxton Padova.’ Never heard of them, but shouldn’t let on.

‘What does Huxton want with me?’ ‘No clue, he just told us to find you and tell you he was looking to hire you.’ Know he’s a man, solid start. ‘How did you find me?’ ‘It wasn’t easy. First we had to send a dozen men out to gather rumours in Dunton, then start doing low altitude flyovers of the surrounding area to find that speeder of yours. The autopilot found it a few hours ago, but we decided to wait until we heard you awake.’

A worrying development, but anything short of wandering the dunes was going to end up being traceable eventually. On the other hand, if he’s competent enough to find me this quickly that means he takes this job seriously, and that’s exactly what I’ve been looking for. ‘Give me his coordinates. I’ll make my way there as soon as I’m done with my preparations.’ ‘Our ship is sitting just past that dune, we can take you.’ ‘I don’t trust you enough for that yet.’ ‘I guess I can’t fault you for that. Hold out your datapad, I’ll send you his location. If you’re not coming with us, show this to the guards when you arrive.’ A signet ring – simple, professional, and projects authority. Too small for my fingers though.

I should give my equipment an inspection before I go, don’t want to make a bad first impression by appearing unprofessional. A quick polish too, definitely can’t go in my civilian clothes, and more firepower will definitely look better. Should I wear the tuxedo? It would certainly make a strong first impression, but I’ve never worked in it, and crime bosses tend to have a bit of a complex about being the fanciest person in the room. Better just wear the armor, be ready to work when I get there. If he sent for me from another town it must be something important.

II

This place is everything Vranki’s setup isn’t: an imposing villa set apart from the surrounding buildings, guarded by a small squadron of organized men with proper equipment. Instead of hiding in plain sight, it dares anybody to attack it. This is promising.

Two nods at the signet ring and the gates part onto a freshly watered lawn growing from imported soil, with a gardener tending to a flower bed full of plants I’ve never seen before. Whoever this Huxley is wants everyone to know how deep his pockets run. He even has a security theater past his front door.

‘Ah, good to see you made it here without any trouble. Please stow your weapons with me and step through the gate for a scan; your armor plates will set off the alarm – but I’ll review your scan manually for any weapon shaped objects.’ Thorough. Not fond of leaving my weapons behind, but I’m impressed. ‘Can I keep my utility knife?’ ‘Too long, too sharp, sorry.’ He really takes security seriously.

‘Make yourself at home in the main room, just don’t sit in Huxley’s chair. It should be obvious which one that is.’ Calling this a chair is an understatement, I’ve never seen a throne this big. Carved from a marble pillar reaching all the way up to the two story ceiling. I don’t even recognize the fabric those pillows are made from. This is a statement, one I don’t even need to be fluent to understand. Surprised he’s a Trandoshan, expected a Hutt with this much luxury.

‘Ah, the warrior of obsidian skin adorned in purpling bruises, how nice it is to finally meet you. I trust you wiped off the trail of blood that follows in your wake before stepping onto my clean floor.’ ‘I wash my boots after every outing.’ His voice is smooth, but that laugh is guttural, sounds more like a growled threat.

‘Very good. A sign of your respect for the work you undertake. It is an important task, you know: commerce is a vehicle fuelled by blood, and those who fill the tank are seldom given the acknowledgement they deserve.’ He must have a lot of free time to practice speaking like this.

‘On that topic; what was the job you had for me?’ ‘Your endeavours have enraptured my son for some number of years now – many nights he’s scoured the holonet for footage of your brutal handiwork. Each of your kills is a splendid painting in his eyes. Since he found out that you were on Doobinth, his desire to see you has been an omnivorous maw that no other worldly pleasure could placate.’ I guess there must be a good amount of security footage of me out on the holonet at this point. Never imagined I’d become a celebrity though.

‘I do not request your presence merely to satisfy his fancies, however. I fear the splendour I have amassed has left him soft – coddled by an upbringing untempered by the strife I myself carved through with tooth and claw to reach the point I have now.’ He certainly has the scars to make that claim believable. Nice to meet someone else who can appreciate having to fight for everything they have – if this job goes well, I might have found my new employer.

‘I hope that a veteran of your caliber can help teach him some valuable lessons, if however briefly, in time for his passage into manhood.’ Certainly out of my wheelhouse, but I’m less likely to get shot at than usual, and it should give me an opportunity to practice my communication skills. ‘You haven’t specified a duration, or a pay grade.’ ‘Ah yes, of course, the beating heart of any partnership built to last; credits. Ten thousand of them per day, for one week – paid at the end. He will be celebrating his eighteenth birthday, so consider them your present.’ That’s a lot of credits.

An absurd sum of credits. Could buy a refurbished starfighter for that much, never have to worry about leaving a paper trail while travelling again. For a week worth of babysitting, playing nice at a party? An eighteen year old crime lord’s son can’t be that much different from guarding a diplomat. Is this a trap?

Maybe he’s heard of my work for Vranki and wanted to bring me here, disarm me, and have his men shoot me in the back once my guard is down. Eliminate a competitor’s most competent soldier, then take over in a show of force.

But if that were the case, his men could have shot me while I was asleep last night, or right now. My armor can only take so many rounds, and I’m unarmed – in the middle of an open room with at least a dozen guards in line of sight. He’s serious.

This is a real offer he’s making, he just has that many credits. In that case I have no choice but to accept. ‘Even when faced with a bounty the likes of which you’ve never seen, you restrain yourself, contemplate. Perhaps your skills extend past the realm of battle after all. But the sands of time, though their grains outnumber those of this planet a thousand thousand fold, do not stop even for me. I must insist on a response.’ Still a few details left unaccounted for.

‘How long are the shifts? My home is a two hour speeder trip from here, so a typical eight hour day would really put a strain on my time.’ ‘You will be my most esteemed guest for the duration of your tenure, so I will not let travel vex you. It would not do to have you suffer the fatigue of a pilgrimage across the plains, for that would compromise the quality of your work.’ Not entirely fond of the idea of staying in his manor, it puts me in an even more vulnerable position. For the pay, I guess I can put up with it.

‘As for the work itself? I am sure Jaxon will take to your presence with a childlike enthusiasm – unbefitting someone of his age and status, but you are here as his instructor, not an entertainer. I allow you the discretion of choosing when to dismiss him, and sample the milk and honey of my hand wrought promised land. Should that prove insufficient to sate you I have no qualms with you roaming, but I must ask that you return by midnight.’ I’m never up later than ten, those are reasonable terms.

‘I’ll need my weapons if you want me to teach him anything about real combat.’ ‘Noted. I will have them transported to the firing range whenever you intend to instruct him, but I cannot permit you to wander my home armed. I apologize for not being able to offer you unrestricted luxury as my guest, truly, but with your years of wisdom, I trust you can understand my apprehension.’ Entirely fair for someone with as many enemies as he must, but I still feel a little naked without them.

‘I didn’t pack for an extended trip. These are the only clothes I have on me, and I don’t intend to wait around naked while they’re being washed.’ ‘A perfectly fair concern. My pilot can return you to your home to collect any belongings you may require, and once you have settled in you may introduce yourself to my son. He does not appreciate the kiss of the suns, I would be surprised if he left his room before you found him. Your work starts today.’ Sounds like I’ll really have my work cut out for me.

‘Your terms sound reasonable, but I have one caveat. I reserve the right to back out at any time, no questions asked, with payment for every day I’ve worked. I normally do single jobs, not committed work like this.’ That’s an absurd demand, but agreeing too easily would make me look weak, open the door to being taken advantage of later. It’s an annoying mind game, but critical.

‘I accept. Are we in agreement?’ Oh. Never had that response before. I guess if this is all a pittance to him it’s not worth the time it would take to haggle. No other concerns I can think of. ‘We are, I accept your terms.’ ‘Excellent. The shuttle will be yearning for the skies by the time you reach it. Short though it may be, I wish you safe travels. Much blood has been spilled taming these sands, but one can never be too careful.’ It’ll be nice to take a break from doing that spilling for a little while.

#my oc #oc #star wars #writing #koben tarani

[scrumpledorph-writes]

Koben’s Proudest Accomplishment (Ruining Her CO’s Career)

I

‘The prosecution would like to call Lance Corporal Tarani to testify as to the veracity of the claims made against Second Lieutenant Blackmire.’ This trial feels like it’s been dragging on for days, but now’s my chance to nail Anton to the wall. Can’t believe it took an Imperial military trial to settle an academy grudge, but he stepped too far out of line this time.

‘Lance Corporal Tarani, would you start by stating your relationship to Mr. Blackmire?’ I can see him grinding his teeth like gears. It’ll be a wonder if he can speak by the end of this, he might just spit dust. ‘We’ve known each other since the first year of Imperial Academy. He was placed in ninety eighth squad, me in seventy seventh, but we both ended up in ninetieth after the first year performance reevaluation, and stayed in it until we graduated. I went into service, he went on to officer’s school, and a few years later he was put in command of my squad.’ Your eyes aren’t going to fire blaster bolts Anton, you can stop glaring so hard.

‘Having established your history, would you say that the testimony as to his character thus far has been accurate? Do you have any further additions you’d like to make to it?’ Oh do I ever. ‘Everything said so far is true; he’s entitled, self absorbed, and generally neglectful when it comes to his duties. I would like to add that the very first time we met he mocked me for being from the outer rim while bragging about his family pedigree.’

‘This is completely unsubstantiated, he has no proof! You people can’t possibly believe him!’ ‘Mr. Blackmire, please do not make me remind you once more that you are not to speak unless called upon. One more outburst and you will be found in contempt of court. Given the consistent testimony across witnesses, the court is inclined to take it as factual, if circumstantial to the charges.’ Daddy’s money can’t get you out of this one.

‘Would you say that these traits clouded his judgment in combat situations?’ ‘Absolutely. He put his own glory and career first, the interests of the Empire second. Cowardice when he thought failure would damage his reputation, recklessness when he thought he could take credit for victory. On top of that, the further from the core worlds a soldier was born, the worse he’d treat them.’ That’ll really twist the knife. He looks like there actually is a knife in him right now.

‘Fascinating, thank you very much. The prosecution rests its inquiry. We would like to bring forth one final piece of evidence, Lance Corporal Tarani’s combat log as recorded by his helmet leading up to and during the engagement.’ Oh, they managed to salvage the footage? This should be good.

II

‘The scouts are back sir, the enemy position is heavily fortified. Long sight lines, minimal cover on approach, high walls, but vulnerable to heavy munitions. If we make camp here, wait for equipment, and shell them out this should be trivial.’ ‘No.’ ‘No, sir?’ ‘That’s right, I said no. These are backwater savages with salvaged, half functional munitions, and you expect me to believe they have the ability to hold ground against Imperial forces? We shall have this city by nightfall.’

‘Even against obsolete blaster technology, our armor would only be rated to take at most six hits, they’d pick us off one by one on the approach.’ ‘They’re situated in a canyon, are they not?’ ‘Yes, with heavy ramparts overlooking either entrance. Primitive, their walls are made of thick stone, but still effective against small arms – they’d crumble to even one well aimed mortar shot. If you’re worried about time, a single orbital round would devastate the city, we could walk in unarmed-’

‘No! I will not have my achievements undercut by the press of a single button from thousands of kilometres away! Just stop talking, give me time to think. Dismissed.’

It’s been almost an hour, he’s really racking his brains trying to figure this out. Guess the officer’s academy didn’t improve him much. If it had, he’d call in some damn equipment. ‘Troopers, attention! I have devised a strategy of attack. While they are defended from all horizontal angles, I have been informed that the city is neglected from above. As a forward unit, we have been equipped with jump packs.’ Oh he can’t be serious. ‘You will infiltrate the city from the ridge-line above, dropping on top of them and subverting their primitive defences. Once inside, you will perform a surgical strike against the city’s military leadership and claim it for the Empire.’ This isn’t just a bad plan, this is suicide.

‘Sir, half of these men haven’t used jump packs since the academy, and our recon only surveyed as far as the outer walls of the city. There are far too many unaccounted variables to-’ ‘Then overcome them. You’ve been with this squad longer than I have, surely you can inspire them to victory from the front, can’t you? Tarani the overachiever, Tarani the prodigy, Tarani the killing machine, that’s all I’ve ever heard anyone say about you; I’ve merely factored your skill into my calculations. Or are you not as good as they say?’

This is just a stupid power trip. Sending a whole squad to their death so I get caught as collateral. If I say yes I probably die before I hit the ground, if I say no I definitely get executed for treason. Guess the only way out is forward, nothing new. ‘Fine. I’ll suit up and lead the drop.’ ‘I’m glad you’ve come to your senses. I look forward to seeing you work.’

Two of them could barely remember how to get the packs on, this won’t go well. They have to know this is absurd, do I put on a brave face and try to pull them through it, or be honest about our chances? If we do a slow descent they’ll hear us coming and shoot us out of the air, and that’s if none of them happen to look up. ‘Corporal, since the Lieutenant left you in charge of the drop, do you have any advice?’

‘I won’t lie, I don’t like these odds. You can’t come in slow or you’ll get shot out of the air. I keep up to date on my jump pack training, so my plan is a rapid descent only using it to break my fall before impact. I recommend all of you who can handle that do the same. Otherwise, keep your wits about you in the air and terminate any hostiles before they can draw a bead on you. Good luck, I’ll see you on the other side.’ I sure hope so anyway. Three, two, one.

They keep vigilant around here, blaster bolts already flying from the ramparts. Can tell just from the sound these are old models, but the size of those bolts has me concerned they just might over penetrate. That building over there looks like a palace, better aim for it. Ease onto the trigger, start small so it doesn’t kick and sputter. Levelling out, low enough to put buildings between me and the walls, as good of an approach as I can ask for. Better get out of this open square though.

Still a ways to go to that palace, and all these alleys stop a long distance short. Footsteps, two sets, not Imperial. One set, I forgot these things are quadrupeds. Two good blaster shots still puts them down, good enough for me. Better move, check in on the squad.

‘This is Corporal Tarani; I’ve made landfall and am on approach to the palace, the rest of you report status.’ ‘Private Stillwater here: it’s not looking good sir. I just landed in an exposed position, hard – saw two shot out of the air on the way down, and one had a malfunctioning jump jet, made terminal impact with a building. Waiting for a stimpack to take effect on my leg, then I’ll try to reconvene with you, sir.’ ‘Anyone else still alive, report in now.’ Too many seconds of silence. ‘Well Tarani, it seems like you’ll have your work cut out for you.’

Two soldiers are better than one, and Stillwater landed closer to the palace than me, better find him. Seems like these guards aren’t used to urban combat, not checking their corners. Two more down, who knows how many more to go. ‘Stillwater, on route to you, status update.’

‘Pinned down and returning fire, could sure use some support. Took a couple shots to the leg on top of a rough drop, but the stimpack should have me back on my feet soon enough. Behind a – I think this is fruit?- stall, sounds like four blasters whittling away at it.’ He always saved the important details for last. Think I can see him.

Must be more of an honour guard than practical this close to the palace, their shooting is all over the place. No way the Lieutenant accounted for that. Four shots, four kills, a clear market square, and a Trooper doing his best in a bad situation. ‘Good to see you Stillwater, I could use some fire support.’ ‘I might have to lean on you, but let’s go.’ ‘No, you take up a firing position and cover me, give that leg some rest.’ ‘Sounds like a plan, sir.’ Far from ideal, but one extra set of eyes is better than none.

No more guards out here, can only assume they’ve barricaded themselves inside. ‘This is Lance Corporal Tarani once again requesting a status update from any Troopers who survived landing, report in.’ Silence. Damn it. Nothing for it but to finish this up.

No automated defences, this place really is primitive. One shot ringing out from behind me. ‘Scratch one, I’ve got your back Corporal.’ ‘Affirmative. Breaching now.’ A tripwire as the door swings open, just barely have time to jump back. Not a high explosive yield, but would have been enough to kill me if I was slower. Those blaster shots ringing out are a bigger problem.

Smoke gave me enough time to take cover behind the door – ears are ringing but I can tell from the trajectories there are at least four shooters. Four consistent trajectories, they’re not advancing. There’s a break in the fire, take a quick peek. They’re blind firing, I’ve got a chance. Inject a stimpack, wait for the next break in fire.

Firing’s stopped, time to go: they’re advancing on the door, not smart. Rush the closest one, grazed by a few shots before I can get behind his corpse, can barely feel them right now. Nice thing about such big enemies is they make for great cover once they’re dead. Have a few seconds to think.

They’ve bolted behind the columns, one’s not quite hidden. One shot to the leg, he stumbles, he’s dead. Two to go, but they learn from their comrades’ mistakes pretty well – no angle on them. This body’s too heavy to carry as portable cover, nothing for it but a grenade. Prime the detonator, three, two- throw!

Perfect throw, one’s dead, the other’s reeling. Can’t kill him yet though, this is a big palace. One stun shot to the arm, to be safe. ‘I’m taking you hostage, take me to your king.’ ‘Please, we are a peaceful people, end this bloodshed.’ Like hell. ‘Most of my squad was shot dead from the ramparts.’ ‘Those who guard the city are of lesser stock, more base than us. You are in the palace, the home of the civilized.’ They’re civilized enough for segregation, fantastic. Half tempted to kill him myself and find my own way around. ‘Get moving.’

Didn’t have time to take it in before, but this place is rich. Gold trim running along the walls and up the pillars. I can see why the Empire wants them subjugated. This room doesn’t loo any different from the others, would have taken me a while to find. ‘You go first.’ Two guards, and a family wearing some of the fanciest clothes I’ve ever seen. This must be them. ‘Put down your weapons, or he dies.’

He wasn’t kidding, they are peaceful – that never works. ‘Oh great warrior in white, I ask you please spare us. Take whatever it is your people have come for, we are blessed with plenty.’ ‘I come on behalf of the Galactic Empire, what I’ve come for is to vassalize your people. Send an order to your people to stand down, more men will be arriving soon to begin negotiations.’ I was never any good at this part, and Anton loving the sound of his own voice turns out to have some use cases.

‘Squad – Stillwater and any others who may still be hearing this: I have the ruling family hostage now. Hold position, I’m establishing a direct line to the Lieutenant.’ That bastard had better appreciate this. ‘Lieutenant Blackmire, I’m reporting mission success; the royals are standing down and ready for negotiations.’ ‘You are? Well, colour me...impressed.’ His voice is dripping with venom, not sure he could hide his disappointment if he tried. ‘I’ll put in the call for a direct reinforcement, stand by. You really are as good as they say. Shame about the rest of the squad, but these things can’t be helped.’ Like hell they can’t.

III

Hard to think of a more damning condemnation than that, he’ll be lucky if that footage doesn’t land him in front of a firing squad. Surprised it’s taken this long to deliberate, but here comes the judge now. I can’t wait. ‘In light of the evidence presented to me – it is clear that the defendant, Second Lieutenant Anton Blackmire, is unfit for a position of military command.’ Good to hear someone else finally say it. ‘Such wilful squandering of Imperial manpower, a cumulative twenty four years of experience and eighty percent casualty rate, carries potentially steep penalties.’ Firing squad, come on just say the words. Stuck up bastard’s deserved it since day one.

‘However, in recognition of his unwavering material support in the form of generous independent donations to the Empire’s coffers, I believe that the removal of his rank and disbarment from future military service shall prove sufficient in mitigating his potential to misuse Imperial assets.’ He actually bought his way out of execution, I can’t believe it. Still looks miserable about it, so I guess that will have to do.

‘As of this moment, Second Lieutenant Blackmire is dishonourably discharged from the Imperial military, and forbade from service within any branch, save for a case of being conscripted by an appropriate military authority, with no opportunity to appeal this verdict. He has until midnight to collect any belongings and settle any business on military property before he shall be barred from entry. This court is adjourned.’ I guess that’ll have to do, he was always going on about his career prospects, and that definitely sank them. He looks like he’s about to blow a gasket though.

‘You ungrateful pack of backwater inbreds! This court was stacked against me from the beginning, I should have been tried on Coruscant! How could I be subject to a judgment from my peers when my stock is so self evidently superior to all of you?! This was a smear campaign from a bunch of envious louts! That plan worked, the footage even said that half of them simply hadn’t trained with jump packs since academy, I can’t possibly be held responsible for being tasked with leading incompetents!’ He must have been dying to say all this the whole trial. Surprised he kept it in this long.

Tarani, if you had stayed at my side I could have made something out of you! You would just have had to follow in my footsteps and ride my coattails to the top, but you threw it away! You’ll regret this, you miserable wretch!’ Oh good, they’re dragging him away, I’ll let them handle it. Much as I’d love to finally knock him out cold, assaulting a civilian in a courtroom would probably be a bad idea. ‘Watch how you address a member of the Imperial military, Mister Blackmire.’ That felt good enough.

#my oc #oc #star wars #writing #koben tarani #cw: death

[scrumpledorph-writes]

Koben’s Coping Mechanism (Auto-Erotic Dehumanization)

I

Too early to sleep, handled everything else this morning, don’t want to be alone with my thoughts right now. Need to be guided, set to a task, controlled. That’s the only way I can do anything useful. Just a rabid dog that needs to find someone to be leashed by. She used to leash me behind closed doors. It was the only time I could let my guard down, knowing Tessa was in control. Maybe if I let go for a little while and have someone else pull my strings I’ll feel better.

I was planning to bring it up with Brayli eventually, but that’s not going to happen now. Vranki runs a prostitution ring, and I already have a bounty, so what’s one more infraction? Never was able to masturbate satisfyingly; strangulation doesn’t feel right if I’m just doing it to myself – knowing I can make it stop whenever I want.

It’s dangerous after dark, so I should wear the armor out. Feel better with a visor between me and the world right now anyway – helps shut it out and keep my feelings inside. Both blasters too, just in case. Already skirmished with two bounty hunters today, seems like I can’t rule anything out.

Down to wordless communication with the doorman, one nod and the door is open. Glad for it, didn’t feel like hearing any inane commentary tonight. It’s starting to feel familiar around here, and I don’t like that. I’ve fallen far from the Corps, but this is too far even for me. If I’m just going to sink into the depths of criminal depravity anyway I might as well have just stayed in my place with the Corps; no different taking out hits for these people than carrying out kill orders.

Camaraderie, stability, material backing, purpose – all the things I took for granted that I can never go back to now. Just had to shut it all out, the screaming widows, the crying children, the way Jedi’s eyes would fill with pity when they looked at me – even from the other side of a lightsaber. Shut it all out and do what I was told, no room for questions to seep in and take root. I wish I could go back.

I already had an execution stayed to join the Storm Corps, what’s one more? Start over from a private, claw my way back up – back to the Purge Corps, back with my old squad. I pulled them through a few tough scrapes. They’re probably all dead now, cut down by some maniac with a chip on their shoulder and the power to pull you in half with their mind. Killed because I wasn’t there to save them, because I was too selfish to follow orders. Good Soldiers Follow Orders is what my old drill instructor always said, and if all I am is a soldier then what does that make me now, as a deserter?

I’m just a discharging grenade too defective to even detonate properly, throwing off shrapnel at everyone who gets too close. Why even bother going on? Maybe all this hurt will scar over and I’ll try it again with another woman, and then I’ll hurt her too. I shouldn’t get someone’s hopes up like that. After I’m done here I’ll just find some vagrant who could use the credits and kill myself so he can turn my corpse in for the reward. Finally make somebody happy at least. Someone’s tapping on my helmet.

‘That thing noise cancelling or something? The boss has been ready to see you for like a minute lady, don’t waste her time.’ ‘Affirmative.’ I’m wallowing so deeply in my own stupid little world I can’t even follow protocol anymore. I’m too compromised to soundly evaluate all this right now, I’ll circle back to it after I’m done here.

‘Trooper! Wasn’t expecting to have to work this late, but for someone who gets results like you I’m happy to crack open my jobs list.’ ‘I’m here to requisition one of your prostitutes.’ ‘Really? You sure look like you’re dressed to kill another apartment block of upstart rivals, but if you say so. What’s your fancy—young, old, tall, round? I can’t quite say I’ve got everything you could ever want, but you certainly won’t find a better catalogue without leaving the system.’ ‘Someone who won’t shy away from hurting me.’ ‘A little on the nose, but I think I have just the one. Oh, and for next time, you don’t actually need me just to book a session – I’d never leave this chair if that were the case. Every booth is hooked up to a database of all my girls.’ ‘Noted, I apologize for disrupting your evening.’ ‘No harm done. Like I said; for you I’m willing to go the extra mile.’ Betraying her for someone who takes the threat of the Empire more seriously is going to sting.

‘You sound like you could use a premium suite, so I’ll set you up in A1, best in house. First hallway, all the way to the end, on your right. You can pay her when you’re done. Have a good time Trooper!’ Simple enough directions. Didn’t bother asking about specifics, but I can’t imagine there are too many women who are willing to do what I need done. I’m sure Vranki’s been at this long enough to pick out good matches. ‘Oh, it’s you.’

II

The Twi’lek from my last job?! What’s she doing here, why did Vranki have to pick her? There’s no way she could have known, I’m sure she’ll amend this if I just explain. ‘Vranki must not have known our history, I’ll-’ ‘No mistake, she knows. She was all smiles while her men were rolling into the other side of town, offering me a nice secure contract – one that undercuts my old prices – after you killed the only people who were looking out for me. You want someone to hurt you, right? I can do that, I’d do it for free if I didn’t have to get you off while I did it.’

This is a bad idea. Tessa just had fun hurting me, but I was far too useful to risk actually killing. Just that look she’s giving me is spelling out how much she wants me dead, but it’s also really attractive. Damn it. ‘It would be easy to kill me and call it an accident. I need some insurance that won’t happen.’

‘Vranki’s no rube, you think she didn’t account for that? Here, a vitals monitor. Put it on, if you dip too low the doctor will be here in under a minute to bring you back. Now are you going to keep insulting my credentials, or do you want to be punished?’ She’s good, I can feel goosebumps. ‘Yes ma’am.’

‘Good, now get out of that suit. Doubt anything in this room could hurt you through that.’ I haven’t been naked in front of another person in a long time. Even Tessa usually liked me to keep the helmet on, and I was upgraded to a private shower while I was in her service. ‘I hope you’re not bothered by my body.’ ‘I’m bothered that it’s you, but you look...really hot, actually, much as I hate to say it.’ ‘I do?’ ‘What the fuck did the Empire do to you; washboard abs, statuesque height, perky tits, thick cock, and insecurity issues? Yes, you’re built like a custom order pleasure droid, now quit rubbing it in.’ Is that how people outside the military feel about my body? Even Tessa was never that lurid about it.

‘So, how do you want me to hurt you? We’ve got the works: whips, collars, chains, electricity, a heating coil if you don’t mind needing bacta after; or just a good old fashioned knife that’s just dull enough to really feel dragging across your skin.’ Wow, she’s sounding like an interrogation specialist right now. No way I can tell her about the inquisitor tricks Tessa used to be able to do, choking me without even touching me or using her lightsaber. Best keep it vague.

‘A collar sounds ideal. My old girlfriend would hold a blade to my neck when she was especially aroused, but I always preferred the tactile sensation around my throat over the implication of a knife.’ ‘Got it. Now humor me with a little bit of psychoanalysis, always like playing kink shrink: you want to kneel at my feet and maintain eye contact while I collar you because it’ll make you feel like a good little loyal hound?’ Wow, she’s good. Really, really good. It would take a real interrogator days to get that deep into my head.

‘Yes ma’am.’ Snide laughter, almost scarily accurate. Is she an ex-Jedi in disguise, using her powers to read my mind? I’m glad it’s not my job to kill them any more, because this is better than I could have ever hoped from a stranger. ‘Well then, for how much of a bad dog you’ve been, you get the choke chain. I’ll be sure to make it extra tight, just the way you like it.’

Cold smooth metal chain link digging into my neck. One of the weakest, most lethally vulnerable parts of the body and she has me under complete control by it. Did she put this thing on ice, why does it feel so pronounced? My breathing is already ragged and we haven’t even begun. ‘You certainly look like you’re having a good time, perked up like that down there. Just one more click of the leash, and now all that’s left is a little test.’ She put a lot of force into that tug, I can feel the metal digging in. I hope she can pull harder.

She’s on top of me now. Objectively I doubt she’s even half my weight, but I may as well be under an AT-AT. ‘Not even pulling at your collar, that’s a good dog. The Empire got you so well trained and disciplined, all you needed was a new master, is that right?’ Her voice is sickeningly, mockingly saccharine. She knows what I’ve done, and now she can take her revenge. Another tug.

‘Come on now, speak when you’re spoken to.’ ‘Yes ma’am!’ Another tug. ‘Is that all you can say? Answer my question.’ I can barely think about anything other than how good this feels, how am I supposed to come up with an answer? Just say whatever comes to mind – if it’s stupid then oh well, she already hates me.

‘I need a mistress to pull me around by the collar! I’m an attack dog who only knows how to hurt and kill, the best I can hope for is to be pointed at people who deserve it!’ Her hand is shaking now? She’s locking the chain really tight, I must have struck a nerve. Getting a bit hard to breathe.

‘Well, at least you admit it. Doesn’t that feel better? No hiding behind armor, or a paycheck; just telling me flat out you killed them because someone told you to. Are you too messed up in the head to be held responsible? Just one of those “real” victims of the Empire we always hear about; a traumatized veteran who needs to be coddled?’ ‘Y-yes ma’am?!’ This doesn’t feel good any more.

Can’t call that a tug, more like a full body wrench. That actually hurt. ‘Wrong answer, doggy. You’re not so pathetic you can’t even make a decision for yourself, are you?’ I am. My life’s been on rails since it started, I don’t know what I’d do without them. Starting to cry, but at least I can blame it on the choker if she brings it up after.

‘Yes ma’am! Before the Corps I lived my life by a slavemasters orders, then by a sergeants, then by my girlfriends, and now I just do what I think the Storm Trooper Field Guide would recommend!’ Her glare is getting less intense. ‘That’s...really how you live? I’ve gotta break the roleplay here, you’re serious?’ ‘Yes ma’am.’ Why’s she unlocking the collar, we’re not done yet.

‘Wow. I don’t think I can keep doing this.’ She feels light again. I could pick her up and throw her against the wall so hard she’d break. ‘What do you mean, isn’t this your job?’ ‘Yeah, and I was having fun with it. I figured you were just some war criminal piece of shit leaning on the “Oh boohoo I got fucked up in the military” excuse to be an asshole, and I was gonna have my fun and take your credits and we’d both fuck off and never see each other again, hopefully, but now...I mean, we were doing the dog thing, but after hearing all that it actually kind of just felt like I was kicking an abused dog, y’know?’

She’s incredulous. I’m so horribly broken it’s a joke to normal people. She can’t even stay mad at me for killing her friends, it’d be like staying mad at a droid. ‘I see. How much do I owe you?’ ‘Forget it, that was like five minutes and you didn’t even put it in. Unless – like don’t get me wrong, we can have some normal sex if you want, but that just felt like I was hitting way too close to home.’

Normal sex, even when I submit completely to somebody else I still can’t do it correctly. ‘No thank you. You were very good at your job, I hope it works out for you. I’ll put my armor back on and go.’ ‘Right, uhh, hope you feel better some time, I guess.’ That was my second failure at trying to feel better, I guess the only thing left is to fall back on old habits.

III

‘Oh, Trooper, that was quick. No judgment, of course, I just figured you’d be spending-’ ‘I need a job.’ ‘Oh! Well, I won’t question it, what’s your fancy?’ ‘Someone I’ll feel better after killing.’ ‘Well, I don’t quite know what your moral compass is, and it’s a bit late for a heart to heart, but I do have one guy who strangled one of my girls to death about a week ago. I’ve had folks asking around about him, and it seems he’s either brave or stupid enough not to have skipped town. You sound like you’re wound up enough to punch a hole through a durasteel wall, so go poke around his address. If you find him, feel free to take some liberties in making an example of him so everybody knows not to mess with my girls. I’ll scale your pay to the quality of your work; floor of eight hundred, ceiling of two thousand. Sound good?’ ‘I’ll take it.’

There’s a sandstorm kicking up. Too heavy to pilot the speeder, so it’s time for a twilight march. The weather seal on my suit should keep sand out, even at these speeds. It’s almost nice. Makes me feel invincible while everyone else clutches at the edges of their cloaks and scurries inside. I’m not even cold.

Little homestead on the edge of town. Bigger than mine, can see extra rooms jutting off of the main one. Maybe I’ll see about buying it at auction after I kill him. Better not actually, this one’s too close, far too easy to find. When he opens the door, punch him in the throat and grab him, I still haven’t decided how to make an example of him. ‘Good evening, do you need some shelter from the storm?’

Wasn’t expecting a woman. ‘Does Klim Thompson live here?’ ‘Oh, that’s my husband, are you one of his old army buddies?’ Don’t remember anybody with that name. She doesn’t seem to know why I’m really here. No point in dancing around it. ‘A week ago your husband strangled a prostitute to death. I’m here on behalf of that prostitutes employer.’ Shock, disgust, fear, anger; a textbook response. Haven’t had to deal with a situation like this in years.

‘Can you wait out here for a few minutes while I talk to him about this?’ ‘No.’ She has the good sense to step back at least, not like she could stop me. ‘Klim! You should have cut and run, now come out and don’t make this any more traumatic for your wife!’ ‘Alright, alright, I’m coming – just don’t hurt her, please.’ ‘I’m a professional; you’re the only name on my list.’

‘That’s all well and good, how much do I owe you for damages?’ He thinks this is about money. Thinks that woman is just a piece of cattle he can buy retroactively. ‘Honey, you’re not saying she’s telling the truth, are you?!’ ‘I really didn’t want you to know about it dear, but yes.’ He’s talking down to her like a toddler. ‘It’s not like you don’t satisfy me, but there are a few things I know you’d never go for, and I guess I just got a little carried away this time.’ He thinks this is just a little misunderstanding. ‘Please ma’am, I’m sure this can all be smoothed over—I’m even willing to talk payment plans; my pension is very generous.’ I already knew I was killing him, but after hearing that dismissive little pitch I’m going to enjoy it.

She’s saying something, but all I can hear is adrenaline pumping through my veins. He’s scrawny, must have been an officer. That would explain the cavalier attitude about all this. They always used to think they were charming enough to talk their way out of everything. My fingers fit nicely around his throat, and that outside wall could use a new coat of paint: blood red would really brighten this place up.

His face splatters well. Took a few hits to get the blood flowing, but now it’s really coming out. She’s watching apprehensively from the doorway. ‘I have to kill him, but you don’t have to watch.’ ‘No, it’s not that. I...I never realized he was that bad.’ ‘Imperials can be very two faced.’ He’s trying to gurgle something out, best start smearing him around, fill in the spots the viscera managed to miss.

‘You don’t get a say in this.’ This feels good. Why is this so cathartic? Maybe I do like killing people after all. I tried to deny it, say that it was just all I knew and I was too trained to choose not to, but if that were it I would have just put two quick bolts in the back of his head. I’m a monster. Just a bundle of hatred and rage hurting everyone around me until the day I die.

No. That’s not it this time. Killing someone hasn’t made me feel this way since Tessa. I’m not just lashing out – I’m defending the honour of a dead woman, and letting it be known that all the other women surviving her need to be treated with respect, or else. I’m standing up for someone too weak to defend themselves. I’m sending a message that this is unacceptable. This isn’t just sadistic malice, this is righteous indignation. Is this what all those rebels meant when they would talk about fighting for a cause?

That Twi’lek was right – even if I can’t help but live a violent life, I can choose who to do it to. Sure I have to take contracts from criminals, but even among the underworld there’s gradients. I’m on my own now, it’s long past time I develop my own principles. I’ll write some down tomorrow. Think I’m just about done here, he’s well past dead at this point, and this wall is looking pretty saturated.

IV

I can hear his wife sobbing. There’s another, smaller voice wailing too. They...are my problem. They’re too emotionally compromised right now, but I’ve always been good at keeping a level head. I should help them come up with a plan of what to do now, mitigate the fallout this will have on their lives.

‘Please don’t hurt us! We didn’t know anything about it, I swear!’ This is going to take some work. ‘The violence is over. I believe you, and I know that this is a lot to have happen all at once. He mentioned a generous pension, was it enough to support you all?’ Dry your tears, muffle your sobs; I can wait.

She’s putting on a brave face for her daughter, but I can feel the desperate helplessness under her voice. I shouldn’t crowd her, try to look as nonthreatening as I can. Hard not to loom when my helmet’s almost touching the door frame. ‘Yes, neither of us had to work. He said he’d go crazy if he was cooped up with me all day, so he spent a lot of time in town, but he wasn’t bringing home any extra money, and he’d always start yelling if I asked him what he’d been doing...’ More crying. Her daughter’s old enough to stand, this has been going on for years. ‘I’m sorry to have revealed this to you.’ ‘No, no it all makes sense now that it’s laid out. He said he wanted the quiet of the outer rim, but it never quite made sense. He had a glowing Imperial career, retired early and suddenly, then uprooted our lives to come live outside of Imperial jurisdiction. We could have easily moved to a resort planet – I should’ve known there was something wrong. How could I be so stupid?!’ I have no experience with comforting people, what would Brayli say to me if I were telling her all this right now?

‘You did as well as you could with the circumstances you had.’ It would have sounded nicer coming from her, but that’s the best I can do. I don’t think that’s a skill I can develop just by doing practice drills. ‘I just want to make sure you don’t lose access to his pension. Submit a death report and state that he received an officer’s pension, that should start the enrolment process for widow’s benefits. Do you know his old identification number?’ ‘Yes, he kept his old name tag framed on his desk. It’s on the back of that.’ ‘Take the rest of the night to recollect yourself, then start that process tomorrow morning.’ ‘Thank you, for...for only hurting him.’

‘Ma’am, this was purely professional. You and your daughter were never in any danger.’ ‘Professional?! I was biting my tongue so you wouldn’t hurt us, but even I can only take so much. You beat my husband against the wall until his head started coming off in chunks! If that’s what passes for professionalism around here, then the first thing I’m doing once I get that pension settled is selling this place and moving back to the core!’ ‘I – That’s not what I meant. I was just trying to reassure you; as long as you don’t cross any crime bosses then you’ll have nothing to fear.’

‘Oh, nothing to fear, just that all my neighbours are psychopathic killers? That really helps, thanks. Go back to your boss, I’m sure they’re licking their chops waiting to hear all about it. Hell, take him with you, I don’t even want to bury him! I’m sure if I tried I’d get attacked by a pack of professional cannibals just doing the business of stealing his body for supper! Fuck off you freak, what the hell’s wrong with you?’ Letting that out probably made her feel a little better, I won’t begrudge her that.

V

Really running down the list of things to feel good about tonight, but the walk helped clear my head a little, and being told I’ve done a good job has never failed me yet. Cartel exemplification usually emphasizes brutality, I covered that part already – and then displays the body in a public place with clear markings to denote the reason for the execution. Vranki should have everything I need for that. The sandstorm looks like it’s letting up too, so tonight isn’t all bad.

Hey Troo – oh what the – did you drag this guy all the way across town?’ ‘Could you ask someone to bring me out some writing materials, adhesive, and rope? Vranki wants me to make an example out of him, so I was planning to hang him up somewhere holding a sign explaining what he did.’ ‘Yeah, sure thing. Could you toss him around the corner though maybe?’

Taking a while to get those supplies. I suppose being able to produce temporary signage isn’t a high priority for a crime den, it makes sense. It would be embarrassing to have to go on a late night shopping trip to finish the job though. Oh good, here comes one of her guards. ‘Here. Had to scrounge through a couple piles of junk, but we had it kicking around. Not sure what it has to do with a hit, but whatever. Can I get back to my shift?’ ‘This will be sufficient. Thank you, dismissed.’ ‘Geez, you really are a trooper.’

Messaging is easy enough “I messed with Vranki’s girls” unambiguously draws a line of cause and effect. Just need to line his hands with glue, press them onto the board – done, just needs to set. The rope is going to be difficult. The simplest method for this sort of display is a hangman’s noose, but I didn’t leave him with a neck. I guess I can tie it under his armpits, that should be good enough. Just need to hoist him from a lightpole now.

Still not quite sure where would constitute a main street in this town, but trade is the heart of any community, so hanging it where the market meets should make sure the message finds its way around. Never realized how difficult it was to hoist up a body like this. How high should I put it, is it legible that far from the ground? Don’t want it so low people are getting kicked in the head as they walk by. Four meters off the ground should suffice. There, job’s done! Just need proof of the deed, and back to get my pay.

VI

‘Oh cool, you’re not dragging a body this time. Here to collect your pay, right?’ ‘Yes. I think Vranki will be quite pleased with my work.’ I can’t imagine anything setting a more clear example than that. ‘Sure, head on in. The boss must really like you to be willing to see you this late.’

I’m sure he means professionally, but does she? She always speaks in very friendly terms, but I just assumed that was simply because she was care free and unprofessional. It would certainly be easier than dating a civilian, wouldn’t need to worry about her shying away from my line of work. I guess it might muddy finances though, taking jobs from my girlfriend. Emperor, what am I saying, I’ve been down this road and I have no interest in retreading it. I’ll inquire professionally in the interest of clearing the air, but nothing more.

‘Trooper, you’re back! You were sounding almost like a battle droid earlier, are you feeling any better? Seline gave me the broad strokes of your interaction, purely in the interest of making sure neither of us would end up stepping on each others’ toes, doing anything rash. You understand, right?’ ‘I do. The job is done, I believe this should suffice for full payment.’ ‘Well, there’s certainly room to negotiate that, let me just pull the—Emperors Grace! Yes, I certainly think you’ve earned the full two thousand; I didn’t figure you to be the type for Hutt Cartel Slaughterhouse tactics, but it certainly gets the point across. You’re not looking for a more permanent position are you? I think you’d make a wonderful head enforcer.’ She definitely likes me.

‘No ma’am, official association puts a target on my back, and I’m just trying to make enough money to get by.’ ‘Ah, well, I can understand that. I’d turn you out if you weren’t just so damn good at your job. Was there anything else?’ ‘Yes. I just want to state that I don’t reciprocate your feelings. It would complicate our professional relationship, and I hope you’re still willing to employ me.’ ‘Feelings? Trooper, what in the galaxy are you talking about?’

‘I was under the impression you were courting me. Offering me lucrative jobs despite our brief professional interaction, your flirtatious vocal intonation whenever we speak, and sabotaging my prostitute experience to leave me romantically inclined.’ She’s laughing hard enough to drown out the usual din of this place. She’s falling out of her chair. She’s on the floor struggling for breath. At least there won’t be any professional conflicts.

‘Trooper, please, you really need to warn a girl before you say something that hysterical. Ahem, no, don’t worry – I know I might not run the tightest ship around here, but I’m not in the habit of sleeping with my subordinates.’ More laughter, I get the point. ‘My apologies ma’am. I’m glad to hear there won’t be any hard feelings.’

‘Don’t get me wrong Trooper, I’d love nothing more than for you to sign on full time, I’d be the only game in town by the end of the month; but I see you as a very competent and useful ally, nothing more. You know what? Here, fifty credits, I haven’t laughed that hard in years. Go get some sleep, you seem like an early riser.’ I guess that was a little absurd on my part. I feel a good deal better too, her laugh is infectious. Not as much as Brayli’s though.

#my oc #oc #star wars #writing #koben tarani #cw: violence #cw: death

[scrumpledorph-writes]

Koben’s Second Date (stress induced breakdown)

I

18:00 hours. Standing outside Brayli’s apartment door. Spent the day productively; ordered a new lock, door, and shutters for the hovel, then replaced all the exhausted pieces of thermal weave on my armor. I’m freshly showered and in the best clothes I’ve ever owned, about to see the prettiest woman I’ve ever met – so why can’t I shake what happened this morning?

Is this how civilians feel when they have to kill someone? Like they’ve done something horrible that they can’t ever take back? I’ve lost count of all the kills I’ve confirmed over my career, were they all like him? Just people who got wrapped up in things over their head and paid for it with their lives? He was just a kid, why couldn’t he have picked someone else, anyone else, instead of an attack dog who ran off leash and can’t seem to stop mauling people? The kind of dog that needs to be euthanized. 18:02, I’m late.

I’ll feel better when I’m with her, I always do. Three firm knocks, not too impertinent, not too insistent. ‘Oh hey sugar! I’m a little surprised you didn’t wear your other suit, but this one looks a lot better on you. C’mon in.’ ‘Thank you.’ ‘You buy that thing just for tonight? Didn’t know caravan guards got paid so well.’ I should downplay the suit, not make it so obvious I’m trying to impress her. ‘I plan to wear it more than once. The armor was considered formal in the military, so I never needed nice clothes before.’ ‘Better keep it in a vacuum sealed bag, the dust’ll ruin that shine.’ That’s good advice, I hadn’t considered that – still not quite situated to desert living.

Kitchen sink full of unwashed dinnerware, sculptures made from spare speeder parts lining the walls, an unfinished project lying next to a half packed toolkit on the dining room table, and oil stains everywhere else. It’s an affront to Naval Domicile Code, but I can’t help but like it knowing that she made it this way.

‘I like your decor.’ ‘Oh thanks, I wind up with a lot of useless parts at the shop and it’s easier to just make something out of ‘em than haul ‘em off. Could leave ‘em around for the Jawas to pick up, but encouraging them is how you wind up with useful stuff missing.’ ‘Maybe you could hire me to take potshots at them.’ Easy to make her laugh, easy to laugh with her.

‘What are you working on in the kitchen?’ ‘Bought a perfectly refurbishable droid someone tossed out, plan to make it into a shop assistant, maybe even get it to help me clean up around here.’ ‘You know how to repair droids?’ ‘Sure. It’s not too far off from a speeder, and I’ve known those since before I could drive one.’ Highly versatile skill set, would have made a great Imperial Technician if they weren’t so strict about species requirements. ‘I learned how to do emergency repairs, maybe I could help you some time.’ ‘That’d be nice. Kind of left it sitting a while – been too tired after work to get much done on it.’

‘Not used to guests, you don’t mind eating on the couch, do ya?’ I’d share a meal in a latrine with her if it came to it. ‘Not at all. What are we having?’ ‘Got jerky, sweet bread, regular bread, should have enough blue milk left for two glasses, and these tatos have looked better but I don’t smell anything coming off of ‘em, so they should be fine. Haven’t had time to restock the conserve lately, probably should’ve planned that out a bit better. Sorry sugar.’ If nothing else, she certainly eats like a soldier. ‘We could go out to eat if you’d like, I can cover it.’ ‘Nah, want to keep you all to myself tonight.’

‘That sounds like fine sandwich material, and I know how to use a knife.’ ‘I’d hope they taught ya how to use a knife in the army. Go ahead.’ These knives are dull, won’t cut cleanly. ‘Do you have anything to sharpen a knife with?’ ‘Think I keep a whetstone around for some of my tools, lemme go get it real quick.’

This date is nice. I never realized how empty I keep my lodgings. Every centimeter of this place looks like it’s hers, and I might as well be a live in housekeeping droid for how barren and organized I keep mine. Maybe I could ask her to make one of those sculptures for me, put it in the corner. I have no idea what I’d want her to make, but I trust her judgment. There’s a knock at the door.

‘Hey sugar, could you get that? Got a couple boxes unpacked looking for that whetstone back here.’ ‘Okay.’ Who could that possibly be? She doesn’t sound concerned, but I can’t imagine she was expecting any guests. Didn’t want to be intimidating by bringing my blaster pistol along, so I suppose this knife will have to do. Maybe it’s nothing. Just a neighbour with an unusual lack of boundaries but a good nature who wants to say hello to the stranger he saw walk into an acquaintance’s apartment. ‘Hell-’ Neighbours don’t normally lead with a pistol bolt to the midsection.

II

‘Well, no shit. Looks like tailing that kid paid off. Evenin’ Miss Tarani.’ Situation analysis: I’m on the ground, her blaster’s trained on me, and her clothes are just reinforced enough to keep this knife from penetrating. Would have to go for the face or neck, next to impossible to spring up and reach her without taking another shot, and this suit doesn’t disperse blaster fire nearly well enough to fight through it. She sounds smug; get into cover and play for time.

Another shot to the leg. Hurts, but it’s an impact pain, not a penetrating burn. That tailor really knows his craft. ‘Aww c’mon now, don’t make me shoot this place up. Figured an ex Trooper’d have a bit more dignity than that. Course, if that were the case you wouldn’t have ditched ‘em, so I s’pose it makes sense.’ ‘How did you find me?’ ‘Just told ya. Tailed that kid who was blabbin’ askin’ around for ya. He was pretty sure you were on this planet, and lo and behold here you are.’ Two bounty hunters in one day is downright unlikely, but at least this one I don’t see myself being torn up over.

I’m pinned down, but she’s just standing around, waiting. That’s what I’d do, she’s good. ‘I was in the area, waiting for the heat to die down from another job – and figured I could do with a bit of supplemental income. No clue what an inquisitor is, but killing one must’ve made the Empire real mad atcha to rack up a six figure bounty.’ Just stop talking damn it.

‘Why did you wait so long to attack me?’ ‘What, you want me up at the ass crack of dawn trekking through the desert? Fat chance. Been keeping an eye out for you is all, paid a couple locals to give me a tip if they saw ya. That getup of yours sticks out pretty far around here, and nobody can forget that nasty scar you’ve got.’ Footsteps, shooting angle is changing. Guess she’s done talking. ‘Well, ain’t got all night to be jawing with ya, and ya took those blaster shots like a champ, so I’m just gonna have to go ahead and put this thing on kill. Just business; you get it, don’tcha?’ I do. One last shot ringing through the room.

No pain? She’s on the ground. Brayli’s holding a smoking blaster?! ‘Oh don’t give me that look sugar, you’ve seen how many people carry heat around here. Didn’t think I owned one?’ ‘I didn't think you’d be willing to kill for me.’ Wish I had a holo-recorder; Brayli blowing the smoke off a blaster barrel is worthy of being the first decoration I put up. ‘It’s on stun, and nobody’ll give me guff for defending my girlfriend in a break in.’

Girlfriend. Girlfriend. We’re girlfriends. Even though I brought a bounty hunter to her door, got one of her statues blasted apart, and left a body on her hands. Why? I’m a liability, a danger. She must have heard everything; she has to know I’m a wanted, oath breaking, backstabbing killer who’s outlived my usefulness—and she isn’t turning me away. ‘You alright, sugar? Looking a bit rattled, she didn’t hit anything important did she?’ ‘No, this suit is blaster resistant. The impact should be reduced to minor bruising, no medical attention required.’

‘That’s a relief. I’ll wipe up these scorch marks, you wanna go dump her outside? Got a feeling you’re stronger than me.’ ‘What’s the proper conduct for disposing of a body around here?’ Can’t report her to the local Imperial police. ‘Just dump her in the alley, she’ll dust herself off eventually. Maybe missing her credit pouch, but that’s what she gets.’ Simple enough disposal.

Everyone’s eyes are sliding off me once they realize what I’m carrying, it’s refreshing. A squadron of troopers make an intimidating united silhouette, but towering over the rest by a head always managed to attract mocking stares from normal looking women. Once you’re trained to constantly monitor your surroundings it’s hard to stop, even in civilian areas, so I could always feel their eyes crawling across me like tank treads.

It was worse when I had to talk to them. As soon as they saw my face and heard my voice – Tessa never gave me enough time to practice changing it, so instead of the crisp and clear authoritative voice I’d spent years honing, the most feminine thing I can muster is this low rasp—the cowed respect of talking to a soldier melted away and the barely contained revulsion underneath sprung up from an ambush position.

Their faces would always turn red with anger, they could only glance at me for a few seconds before needing to look away in disgust, and were always biting their lips to stop themselves from mocking me openly. Sometimes they’d even trace their finger along my breastplate, drawing a map of all the flaws and imperfections that lay underneath. If I’m too much of an eyesore not to stand out, being too frightening to look at is a sufficient substitute.

Glad to see a dumpster here, makes my job easier. Brayli said just leave her in the alley, but even if she doesn’t know where I live, she knows where Brayli does, and that’s even worse. I’ll be running from bounty hunters for the rest of my life, but if she’s kind enough to look past everything about me – the least I can do is keep her out of the line of fire. Killing to protect someone you love is okay, right? I used to hear that line a lot from the other side of the battlefield, I think it makes sense.

‘Cradling me in your arms now? What, this how you pick up chicks?’ Oh, she’s conscious, barely. That makes this more difficult. ‘I’m positioning you to snap your neck. If you resist it might not be clean.’ ‘Can’t feel my arms anyway. Putting me face first in a dumpster though, ain’t nothin’ clean about it. You’re a real freak y’know?’ I know, but somehow I’m still going. ‘I’ll rest the lid on the underside of your chin, then put the rest of my weight down on your collarbone. It should be a clean break, instant internal decapitation. No mess for whoever finds you.’ ‘Oh, how nice of ya. Hope whoever finally gets you takes you in alive so the Empire can make it slow, cunt.’ I’ve never done anything like this before, usually when I want to kill someone I just use a weapon – but from what I remember of my anatomical lessons this should work. Three, two- ‘So, these gonna be my last words? Guess I’ll go with the ol’ reliable then: fuck you.’ One.

Not certain why I’m laying her corpse in a dignified position. I have better things to spend my evening doing, but I guess treating someone you kill’s body with respect makes it a little less bad? It doesn’t make any sense to me – she’s still dead – but that’s what people seem to think, so I guess if I ever want to be normal I should start doing it. Hands over her chest, lying straight, eyes closed. I can kind of see it now actually, she looks almost serene. No, I can’t actually.

This is ridiculous. She’s dead, I killed her, she’s never coming back, just like that kid this morning. All of this ritual and fanfare is just a way that people ease their own pain. But I’ve been through way worse pain than this and come out just fine. Nobody ordered me to kill them, sure I made that call myself this time, but somebody told them to come kill me!I was just defending myself! Fuck them, they made their beds and they died in them because they were weak!

I went through hell and back in the Storm Corps, then jumped back into the thick of it to hunt down Jedi – the bastards who can chop you in half and scramble your brain on a whim - so Tessa could use me for her own gain, and then I killed her for it! I’m my own woman: no Empire, no Inquisitor; I might be a rabid dog, but now I’m holding the leash! I have the strength, I have the skills, I have the resolve: I’m going to live my life how I want to and everybody who tries to stand in my way will pay the price!

III

That felt good, really good. Feel like I could sprint across this whole planet if I wanted to. ‘Hey sugar, you were out there a while. Everything okay?’ ‘Oh I’m better than okay babe, I feel great; better than I have in years! Did a bit of thinking after I snapped that bounty hunter’s neck-’ ‘You killed her?’ ‘Of course I did, she knew where you live. What, did you want her to come back when I wasn’t around, get revenge on you?’ Civilians can be so frustrating sometimes. ‘I guess when you put it that way...Are you sure you’re feeling alright? You’re acting kinda strange.’ ‘Brayli, I’ve spent so long feeling like trash I forgot what it was like not to, but now I’m ready to be a woman – your woman.’ Not sure what she looks so shook up over, I took care of the bounty hunter already.

‘Well, that’s umm – nice. I got those blaster marks off, and found the whetstone.’ ‘Great, I’ll get that knife so sharp it’ll go clean through the next person to try breaking in.’ She’s not laughing as hard as usual, she must still rattled from the bounty hunter, makes sense. Guess I’ll just have to laugh extra hard to set her at ease.

Oh yeah these knives are looking great now, this cleaver could go through bone! Bread’s cut, tato’s cut, meat’s cut—easy peasy. ‘Food’s done, hope you’ve got an appetite, because I double stack them.’ ‘Yeah, I worked up a bit of one while you sharpened all my knives. Didn’t you just use the one?’ ‘Well yeah but they were all dull! The whetstone was already out, better to spend twenty minutes now and then not have to worry about it later than to keep pulling it out every time you need to use a knife you hadn’t already sharpened, right?’ ‘It’s just not very romantic watching you sharpen knives is all.’ Seriously? Nothing got me going like Tessa sharpening a knife while I waited in anticipation. Oh well, growing pains I guess; better to learn that now.

‘Not bad for bottom of the conservator leftovers, right?’ ‘Yeah.’ She’s been off for a while now. I figured a good meal would be enough to set her right, but now it’s time to be direct. ‘Hey Brayli, you alright? You’ve been a lot quieter than usual since the bounty hunter showed up.’ ‘Oh, have I? I guess I’m still just a bit nervous about it is all.’ She’s not as strong as me – she needs a firm, comforting hand on her shoulder.

‘Babe, don’t worry; she’s dead. We can even go look if you like, walk off dinner with a stroll down to the alley, check her vitals together. It’ll be nice, let’s go!’ ‘Koben, I don’t want to see a dead body! I – I get why you killed her, and I’m sorry for making you go through that for me-’ ‘Oh don’t sweat it, I would’ve had to anyway for my sake if not for yours.’ ‘That! That’s why I’ve been off tonight!’...What?

‘I don’t – babe what do you mean? I took care of it.’ ‘It’s you! Right now you’re nothing like you were in your holonet bio, or the bar, or when we stumbled into each other in that shuttle! You never made a secret of being in the army, sure, but you didn’t brag about killing people!’ ‘I’m not bragging, I’m just explaining why it had to happen-’ ‘And I’m asking you to stop! I knew you had some baggage, sure, nobody wears a suit of armor to a first date without something going on; but you were trying so hard to be gentle, and it was nice hearing you ramble about how much your gear meant to you, and watching the sunset with you was magical – but right now you’re-’ ‘I’m what?!’ Too assertive? Too proud of myself? Did she only like me when I was meek and bending over backwards, like Tessa; and everyone else who’s ever been in my life?! ‘You’re scaring me.’

Oh. Oh no. She’s right, what am I doing? I don’t want to be like this. I always hated the guys who did what I’m doing back in the corps, why am I doing this? What’s wrong with me? I don’t like killing people, it’s just the only thing I’m good at. ‘Brayli, you’re right, please, I’m-’ ‘You’re squeezing me.’ I’m so stressed my hands are clenching, and I was still holding her shoulder. I can see marks on her skin – that tender, delicate skin that I defiled with my hands that only know how to cause harm. I could take a hundred spa days and go on a diet and get rid of the scar and the muscles and the equipment and it wouldn’t change a thing. I’ll always be a killer.

‘I didn’t mean to, I didn’t even realize it was happening.’ Silence, too long, each of these seconds feels like hours. Please just say something. ‘It’s alright sugar. That bounty hunter had you rattled and you went a little overboard. Soon as I asked you to stop, you did, so I forgive you. Everyone gets a little carried away sometimes.’ She’s smiling at me. Even after all that; after I came into her home and acted like an occupying force and wounded her she’s still forgiving me. I don’t deserve that. I only hurt her a little this time, but what about next time?

What if I have another bad dream, one of the really bad ones: a botched op with my squad dying around me. What if I woke up attacking a Jedi but it was just her? No way she’s strong enough to push me off of her, or unwrap my hands from around her throat. I love her too much to accept this. She’s smart and sweet and funny and beautiful; she’ll find someone who deserves her.

‘Brayli, I love you too much to be willing to put you in danger like that again.’ ‘You can carry your blaster next time, it’s fine.’ ‘Not from the bounty hunter, from me. I’m a blaster with a hair trigger and no safety. I already hurt you once, and I can’t do it again.’ ‘What’re you saying sugar?’ ‘I open up too much around you, you make me feel too comfortable! I talk more, I make jokes, I show emotion, I let my guard down! I’ve spent most of my life killing people, or thinking about how I’d do it if I had to, or wanting to and only being restrained by the rigid hierarchy of the Imperial Navy! I can’t afford to get comfortable around anybody, ever.’

‘Seeing you relax and get comfy around me is one of the reasons I like you, do you have any idea how romantic that is? Watching that tough soldier shell chip away little by little? Please just stop this, come sit down, I’ve got a vid picked out and everything. Please.’ I feel like I’m drowning in tears, but they won’t come out. Hers don’t seem to be having that problem. ‘That shell is all there is. I’m sorry for making you think there was a real woman underneath.’

Even when I’m leaving I can’t help but hurt her. Those tears are the last pain I’m ever going to put her through. There’s nothing more to say, just walk away. Clear the dishes – that courtesy is the least I can do – close the door behind me, walk to the speeder, and go home. My home. Nothing delicate to break, nobody vulnerable to hurt: just an armory full of weapons.

#my oc #oc #star wars #writing #koben tarani #sapphic #transgender #cw: dysphoria