Star Wars - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Star Wars The Force Unleashed: A Fragile Hope ❯ Escape ( Chapter 4 )

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

Jabba shouted with annoyance, looking down at the corpse of his pet and the Sith’s escape. His penthouse was in a violent uproar; shouts for blood and the stranger’s head ran rampant among them. Gamorrean guards rushed to the lower levels to head him off as the Hutt motioned his best bounty hunter to step forward. He appeared, wearing a green Mandelorian helmet, carrying a blaster rifle and all the deadly skill that came from claiming the heads of wanted fugitives and bringing swift death to Jabba’s foes.
“That Sith scum is good…too good. If word gets out that some Imperial filth was able to escape my wrath, it will cripple me.” The Hutt spoke, slime running down his lip and mucus flashing from his nose, “Go to the hangar and make sure he stays in this palace. When he is dead, I’ll make you the richest bounty hunter in the galaxy.”
Boba Fett grinned underneath his helmet, reloading his blaster.
“Yes sir.”
Meanwhile, a force field leading to a cylinder room suddenly dies, flickering away to nothing as its generator is dislodged. Inside, three stationary figures stand while Weequay warriors try to hide among four openings near the room’s ceiling, blasters in hand. Starkiller growls as he recognizes the unmoving forms. They were disabled Purge Troopers, large droids created specifically to crush Force-wielders. Lightsabers were less effective due to their armor being made with a special ore. They have been offline since the Emperor created the Dark Troopers, but these looked to be in firm condition. Starkiller was too late to stop one of the Weequay from pushing down on a small device, and suddenly, a cold metal hand descended on his throat, wrapping around it and slowly crushing it. The eyes of a purge trooper brightened with life. Starkiller struggled in the droid’s grasp, and then growled loudly, casting force-lightning up its arm. The trooper trembled, dropping the assassin and retreats a few steps as it began to recover from the electric assault. Green blaster fire rained down from above, causing a twinge of annoyance in Starkiller. While the Purge Trooper was stunned, the assassin proceeded up a wall and met the Weequay there. It cried out, aiming the gun at his face, but in a flash of crimson, the barrel was gone and so was the Weequay’s head
Using the Force, he leapt to the next platform where the Weequay there was able to score his shoulder with his blaster. Starkiller grunted, but his assault continued without hesitation, slicing it at the belly, force-gripping it and sending it flying into one of its fellow warriors across the wall. The two bodies collided in a sickening crunch, bones shattering under the power of the Force. The last of the Weequay panicked, pressing down on the device again and suddenly, two small rockets flew toward the assassin’s face. He was able to jump over them and descend to the ground. The other two troopers had been awakened and they walked toward him in a slow but menacing pace. The last Weequay continued to fire down at him, but the bolts were easily deflected. Casting force lightning toward the droids, the arching lightning found its mark in all three of them. They twitched and convulsed, but then proceeded forward. Starkiller lunged at them, swinging his lightsaber toward one of their necks. Then one hand caught his wrist and the trooper pressed its palm against his face. Instantly, the apprentice force-pushed it away from him, but it only took a step back, its body created to withstand the attack. It then flung Starkiller away by his caught wrist, slamming him hard into the wall. Starkiller cried out, falling. The three pressed on, slowly approaching him, ready to make the killing blow.
One of them suddenly jerked and began to convulse. In its chest was Starkiller’s flung lightsaber, impaling it. The apprentice threw himself from the ground and into the air, high over the troopers’ reach as he pulled his weapon from the droid’s chest and then drove it into its head. The other two raised their wrists, bringing up blasters. Just then, a green bolt flies by Starkiller’s eyes. Glaring, he turned to the Weequay who was now desperate to slay him after witnessing the first Purge Trooper’s demise. Starkiller kicked off the droid, letting it collapse and rolled under the firing of the other troopers’ blasters. He sprang up from underneath, pressing his palms against it and sending force-lightning deep into its system, enough to cause its circuitry to melt and its programming to malfunction. The Weequay fired down at him, but Starkiller dodged and grabbed the last trooper’s wrist, using the Force to give him strength. Instinctively, the droid began firing off blaster shots. He turned the blaster over to the meddlesome Weequay and in a few short bursts and a rough sound that must have been a dying scream, the warrior fell and Starkiller jumped into the air, flipping over the trooper and driving the lightsaber down its spine. The droid’s chest exploded as its systems failed. Finally, its body drooped; its head suddenly slouched as it went offline permanently.
Starkiller took a breath of relief, pushing over the dead machine and watching it fall. The sounds of metal slamming into metal pulled his attention from the destruction he had left and to a large opening where two sets of metallic jaws slammed together to crush and grind any discarded metal that was flung into their maw. The hatch behind the grinders led to the lower levels of the palace. From there, he could make his escape. Grabbing the grinders through the Force, he held them in place long enough for him to jump down the hatch. He fell down the long tube, sliding across its surface. He could feel a great heat coming from the depths, along with the loud sounds of scrap metal being crushed and burned. The odor of rust and oil rose up the tube, while the familiar cries of Jawas caught Starkiller’s ears. He grinned, knowing that the creatures couldn’t hope to stop him. He finally felt his feet meet the ground, then threw his lightsaber at the closest Jawa. It screamed as it died and suddenly, the wide room’s slaving Jawas charged at him, a desperate attempt to protect themselves, or at least their ‘treasures’. The lightsaber, while returning to his hand, beheaded another Jawa. Casting force-lightning, the electricity struck two Jawas, sending them flying away from him. Finally, Starkiller gripped the last of them and flung them into a massive grinder at the end of a large conveyer belt. It cried out for a second, then went silent as its bones were crushed into dust. He then noticed a big red eye in the far corner of the room that he recognized to be some kind of security system, one that Jabba must have placed to keep the Jawas from escaping. He just had to find some way out.
“Master…is that…you?”
Starkiller’s heart skipped a beat; the voice sending him back to…other days. In desperation to know, he turned to the source of the voice and torn through a large pile of scraps and droid parts. Underneath were two brightly lit eyes and a face that made Starkiller’s mind wander to thoughts that he had long forgotten.
“It is yo-o-ou!” PROXY’s voice trailed off from malfunctioning vocal processors.
Starkiller lifted his old friend from the pile using the Force. Despite everything he had done, everything that had been done to cloak his true self, PROXY somehow recognized his old master. Starkiller’s hand trembled as the thoughts of the long-deceased Galen Marek emerged.
“PROXY…” He began to say, but couldn’t.
“I’m sorry, Master…My primary programming has been damaged and I am in no condition to make an attempt on your life…and my legs are missing.” PROXY spoke, despite the critical condition he was in. Soon, Starkiller fought with Galen Marek, to keep from trying to save PROXY, to save him from the wastes of Jabba’s palace, but he knew it would do no good. Instead, all he could say was:
“I need a way out of this room, PROXY.”
“Master…if you could lift me up to the scanner, I may have enough power to…” Starkiller did just that, gripping the injured droid and lifting him up to the eye. The sphere focused on the suspended PROXY who, in a flash of light, was suddenly a levitating Gamorrean guard who roughly said “You are going to let me in.” The eye then turned an accepting green and the huge grinder lifted away from the conveyer belt. Starkiller dropped PROXY, making the droid fall roughly to the ground. The apprentice approached him and looked down at the droid as he sparks and twitched.
“Thank you, PROXY.” Galen Marek said quietly.
“Certainly, Master,” PROXY replied, his voice starting to fade, “It was an honor wo-o-rking with…” The droid’s eyes faded, his voice trailing away to silence. Starkiller stood over him for a few second as the last of Galen Marek’s past was lost forever. Clutching his hand into a fist, the apprentice turned and fled from the room, dodging the crude smashing mechanisms and blazing fire jets on the conveyer belt, eventually finding his way to another hatch in the wall that descended to the lowest part of the palace: the hangar, leaving behind the memories and the very existence of the man he could have been.