Star Wars - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Star Wars The Force Unleashed: A Fragile Hope ❯ Blood in the Sand ( Chapter 2 )

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

Two Jawas worked busily on repairing a stubborn droid. Sand had gotten into the circuitry, causing it to malfunction and to become worthless for sale or trade. But they argued about how to address the problem for they both had different ways of maintenance at a low cost, though which decision they made was debatable whether it’s the right choice or if it would even work. Suddenly, a strange hiss caught their attention. One gazed up to find the source of the sound, but only saw a red haze and then a searing pain that killed it instantly.
Standing over the two broken bodies of the Jawas, Starkiller took out his communicator and watched it come to life before him. The shimmering blue-lit image of Emperor Palpatine came into view as his static-covered voice pierced the sound of distant howling winds.
“I sense that you have not succeeding in tracking down your objective, my…apprentice.”
Does nothing escape the Emperor’s sight?
“No, my master,” Starkiller shamefully replied.
“As I expected,” The Emperor replied, “You will proceed to the palace of Jabba the Hutt. His spies are the only reliable source of information on that pitiful speck of a planet. He will help you find the droids you seek.”
“I will not fail you, master.”
“We shall see.”
Then the connection was severed and Starkiller felt a sting of annoyance. He had learned of the underground dealings of the Hutts. To think of the Empire consorting with them made him cringe, but he knew that his master was right. Jabba’s countless spies littered the planet and would no doubt have information regarding two droids in possession of highly important Imperial data, but he had to be cautious for Hutts were also known for their back-stabbing nature, willing to lie and cheat their way to gain where others would only fail.
Starkiller followed a path that stretched across the edge of the canyon, knowing it would lead him to Jabba if he continued and didn’t get distracted. The orange binary sunset in the distant cast a luminous aura over the distant dunes, bringing some form of beauty to a planet nearly devoid of it. A new voice sounded from Starkiller’s communicator, an Imperial officer from the sound of his accent.
“My lord, this is Captain Berrus. The Emperor has instructed me to…assist you as needed.” The man said, sounding incredibly uneasy and uncertain about his new position as Starkiller’s assistant.
So now the Emperor is keeping a closer eye on Starkiller. The assassin’s frustration grew and hoped that there would be a foe or two awaiting his fury somewhere.
“Very well, Captain. Proceed.” Starkiller responded, letting the annoyance in his voice hearable.
“Yes, my lord. It appears that you’ve already discovered the Jawas. Disgusting creatures.” Berrus didn’t speak any more than that. Starkiller enjoyed hearing the intimidation others felt when in his presence, directly or indirectly, for the story of Darth Vader’s demise at his hand reached the ear of every Imperial officer. This disheartened many veterans who fought alongside Vader during the days following the fall of the Republic, but fear kept them from breaking ranks, for none wanted to be the target of the Emperor’s personal assassin.
Shortly after Berrus’ introduction, Starkiller found the source of the Jawas living on the canyon. A massive sand crawler was perched dangerously close to the edge of a cliff, while about twenty or so Jawas crept in small make-shift houses that made up the camp. Like ants, they scurried toward points of interest, to repair or find ways to improve an item that was already worthless. Seeing that the sand crawler was blocking the road to Jabba’s Palace, it gave Starkiller the incentive to slaughter the Jawas. As he ran into the camp, a few of the rodent-like creatures immediately became aware of his presence. Instantly, they saw him as a threat, brandishing blow torches and small knives, pitiful.
The canyon became filled with the dying cries of Jawas and the whooshing of a lightsaber slicing through the air. Occasionally, Starkiller would grab a Jawa by the head and send force-lightning surging through its body before kicking it harshly away from him, a sick joke that he always found delightful. Then he gripped another and flung it over the cliff, sending the screaming Jawa plunging to its death. There was the appearance of droids made by the Jawas to protect them, but the roughly-constructed machines crumbled under Starkiller’s blade and the power of the Force. It was a slaughter, not a battle and inside, Starkiller knew that and hated it. He hadn’t fought a true battle for ages and it was beginning to sap away his talent. Someday, he would find someone who would match his skills and be a worthy opponent. Until then, however, he had to make due with what he had.
The sand crawler’s placement was bordering on life-threatening as the edge it was so delicately perched on would occasionally give under the heavy transport’s weight, causing a small avalanche of rocks to fall down the canyon slope. Taking a deep breath, Starkiller focused on the power of the Force, taking it into him and feeling it surging through his body. It gathered between his hands, growing larger and larger, until finally, he leapt high into the air and blasted the side of the sand crawler with a force-push. The attack caused the massive vehicle to careen down the canyon in a roar of thunder. Its fall echoed throughout the canyon walls, exploding with sound and piercing the quiet howling of the wind. With the obstacle gone, Starkiller could now proceed. A stone-made bridge lead to the other side of the path, through age or possibly the work of the sand crawler had caused one of its side to crumble away, leading a dangerous drop to oblivion below. Starkiller crossed with caution, his crimson lightsaber still blazing. It wasn’t too much farther from Jabba’s Palace.
He continued down the rock path that curved around the wall. Overhead, there came the familiar call of a Tusken Raider, but then also an earth-shaking rumble. Craning his head, Starkiller suddenly dashed forward with the Force as a large boulder slammed into the path, followed by the fall of many others. It was a surprise, but not a threatening ambush. Then up ahead, during the chaos of the crashing rocks, Starkiller spotted the shape of a hiding Tusken Raider on top of a tall rock, rifle in hand and waiting for him to get close enough for a clean shot. Starkiller grinned underneath his mask. Clearing himself of the avalanche, he darted toward the rock, allowing the raider to spot him and take aim, but not before he leapt onto the rock and ran the raider through with his saber. Starkiller turned his attention toward the path as the Tusken raider died. Another bridge lay ahead, but also, on the mountain top, was the unmistakable tower of Jabba’s Palace.
Running across the bridge, Starkiller heard the sounds of more sand people. Growling with frustration, he simply ran up to the obvious hiding place of one of them and struck him with the full blast of force lightning. It screamed as it died, but not before a bullet ricocheted off the canyon wall and past his head. Starkiller was becoming too reckless; it caused the dark side in him to swell with his anger. The raider who had dared fire on him met Starkiller’s blade shortly after. Boredom and annoyance were settled into Starkiller’s mind. No challenge what-so-ever. Around the new turn was the bridge to the front door to Jabba’s Palace. One remaining Tusken raider fired a shot that he avoided with ease. Gripping the enemy with the Force, the assassin flung the screaming raider over the cliff, wanting little resistance between him and Jabba.