Star Wars - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Star Wars The Force Unleashed: A Fragile Hope ❯ A Fragile Hope ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

The raider moaned as it dragged itself across the canyon floor, gripping handfuls of dry dirt and rocks. Its legs were stumps, smoking slightly at the ends from where the flesh was cartelized. It crawled toward its rifle, which lay just a few feet away, but it wouldn’t be enough. Suddenly, intense pain erupted from its lower back as a red lightsaber plunged into the raider’s waist. The Tusken raider shouted out in agony, but then died shortly after. Starkiller looked down at it with disgust then pulled off its cloak and what remained of its mask, wrapping it around his metal helmet, protecting it from the brutal sands while obscuring his true identity from the unwary eye. The raider had tried to ambush him shortly on arrival, but the battle didn’t last long.
Starkiller force-jumped to the top of the canyon wall and gazed out over the seemingly-ending ocean of sand dunes that spread farther than he could see. It was a miserable planet, one that even the Empire had little involvement with, the perfect place to hide the two droids he was searching for. His breathing mechanisms were able to filter out any sand in the air, but it didn’t keep the dry desert breeze from finding its way to his lungs. He grimaced. The sooner he was off this pathetic planet, the better. His master had told him that when he was closer to his objective, he would be contacted, but so far, he had no other leads, other than the knowledge that one of the Imperial spies was able to track the astromech and protocol droids to a moisture farm a few miles from Starkiller’s position.
So he began to walk, his armor keeping his body from overheating while protecting him from the stinging sands and the blazing sun. With every step, the lightsabers attached to his belt clinked off each other, a constant remainder of Starkiller’s past victims: the lightsaber he used to strike down Darth Vader, his deceased former master’s saber, the sabers of Jedi Rahm Kota and Shaak Ti, the remains of Kazdan Paratus’ lightsaber, and finally Starkiller’s newly-created lightsaber, one which hilt bears four spike-like ends, which crossed over the blade when the saber is ignited. They would always remind him of his past victories and failures, but thinking of it clouded his judgment. He had to focus on his objective. Starkiller continued his journey, force-running across the sand dunes while battling heavy winds that were picking up the sands and blasting them against his Tusken raider disguise. The release he felt when using the Force was his only solace, the thrill of using it to strike down his foes and to destroy any obstacles. He had always been deeply gifted with the Force, using it in incredible feats, which had impressed Vader during Starkiller’s days of his secret apprentice. His talents had also led him to overwhelm the Sith lord.
Galen charged forward, driving the crimson blade of Darth Vader’s lightsaber into his chest. His former master gasped; his body jolting as the saber cut through the metal and scarred flesh underneath. Desperately, he clutches the hilt, trying to pull the agonizing weapon free but Galen’s blue lightsaber ran him through from behind, fatally wounding him. In a brief cry, Darth Vader collapsed, unmoving.
Starkiller shook away the memory. He couldn’t afford to be distracted, not when he was now very close to his destination. The farm didn’t look like much, mostly made of dome-like housing with equipment and spires that were unfamiliar to him. Lesser droids wandered uselessly around the property, seemingly having no purpose or command by their master. He approached the moisture farm, not touching his lightsaber, for he couldn’t sense any threat in the area. Then he remembered how the Emperor had told him that he had sensed a Force-sensitive residing on Tatooine, no doubt a Jedi survivor of Order 66. Whoever it was, Starkiller would deal with them soon enough. A man stepped out from the house, his hair showed obvious signs of age and his unshaved beard darkened his chin. He wore white, loose-fitting clothes to lessen the amount of heat. He was unarmed, which was fine with Starkiller. He fit the spy’s description and that’s all the assassin needed to know.
Owen turned his head toward the approaching figure and blinked with shock at the stranger’s appearance. His hands were clawed, his face covered with a metal mask wrapped with the remains of what happen to be a Tusken raider’s mask. He stumbled back, instantly alarmed. Instinctively, he reached for his blaster, which he had left inside.
“Who are you?” Owen tried to sound as firm as possible, “What do you want?”
Suddenly, his windpipe squeezed shut, as though a hand had closed down on it, even though the stranger wasn’t close enough to do so. Owen gasped and clawed at his throat as he was lifted into the air.
“Where are the droids, old man?” Starkiller spoke, his voice altered by his mask.
“What are you…talking about?” Owen forced out.
“Where are the astromech and protocol droids? Tell me and I will spare your miserable life.”
The door to the house opened; a woman walked into view and immediately saw Starkiller and her husband being suspended in the air, clutching his throat.
“Owen!” Beru cried. She turned to the stranger. “Stop this! What are you doing?”
In a flash, Starkiller’s lightsaber was in his hand and being flung through the air, cutting down the woman who let out a weak cry and fell, dead.
“NO!” Owen screamed. Starkiller closed his hand, silencing Owen forever. As the old man’s body fell to the sand, Starkiller cast force-lightning on the buildings, causing many of them to explode into flame while others simply crumbled under the power. Droids, machines, all destroyed by the assassin’s will. Wherever the droids were, they were obviously no longer here. The spy’s information had proven false.
And then, something caught Starkiller’s attention. He walked for a while and gazed at the sand. Large treads left deep imprints in the sand, similar to the Sand Crawlers that Starkiller had heard were used to transport goods collected by Jawas. Starkiller grinned on the inside. Who else would know where to find two missing droids? They were probably taken by the Jawas for trade. Wherever the two droids were, the Jawas had to have them in their possession or at least know who they sold them to. The desert was already beginning to cover the treads so Starkiller immediately began force-running, following the treads toward a rocky canyon on the horizon. Soon, he would have the stolen Death Star plans and the Rebels will have won nothing.