Jump to content

Home

[Fic] Star Wars: Assassination Protocols


Recommended Posts

Eric came up the ramp of the Scorcher closely followed by HK. The former had his eyes glued to the screen of his datapad to review the amount that was being transferred to his account.

 

“Two thousand credits?! We go into all that trouble and only two thousand?” Eric exclaimed in shock.

 

“Two thousand is the advance amount, you nitwit.” HK said. “The main transaction will be in your current account, not savings.”

 

With a quick check, Eric confirmed HK’s statement with a sheepish grin at the droid.

 

“Humans,” HK mumbled exasperatedly.

 

“Ah well, seven thousand for the kill and two in advance. We’ve got nine grand to splurge. Any suggestions?”

 

“First off, you could get me to a body shop and get my frame repainted to a 100 percent rust red. I feel this black hides me too well in the night.”

 

“And…that’s a bad thing?” Eric asked.

 

“I prefer to see the look of shock and fear in my victims’ eyes as I proceed to eliminate them.”

 

“Okay…” Eric said. All this brutality unnerved him sometimes. Just then, they heard a loud crash from outside in the Polis Massa hangar. Grabbing a blaster pistol and tossing the datapad into one of the bunks on the lower ship level, Eric rushed down the ramp, beckoning to HK.

 

“What’s going on?” he demanded. As a reply, he spotted a hissing Electrostatic Charge Detonator, or ECD in military terms, flying towards them. The moment it landed, it detonated, expelling its payload of a couple thousand volts of static charge. The electricity coursed through Eric’s body and made his legs feel like jelly. Although ECDs were primarily anti-droid weapons and used in masses in the Clone Wars by the Republic Forces, a sentient being standing close enough to its detonation zone would also be very unwell for a short period of time.

 

Eric stumbled to the side of his ramp and brought his blaster to bear. Registering several beings with blasters pointed at him in his hazy vision, he proceeded to wildly swing his blaster about and fire erratically, relying on the Law of Averages to do some damage to at least some of those opposing him, at least till he got his legs back. He glanced at his right and his heart sunk to his boots. Next to him, HK was stationary, doubled over, with a thin black wisp of smoke escaping from his hip joint at the back. He had dropped his prized blaster when his fingers lost connection.

 

Scooping low, Eric tossed away his pistol and grabbed the blaster rifle. Setting it to rapid fire mode, he extended it one handed and listened to it roar as he pulled the trigger. He dimly wondered why the thugs after them weren’t shooting yet and jumped clear of the ramp. Rushing behind it for cover, he lined up the scope of the blaster with the nearest enemy.

 

“What the heck do you want?” Eric asked.

 

“The droid,” one of them replied. “Hand it over.”

 

“It’s not my property,” Eric said. “It follows me as a companion.

 

“Then we may take it without your permission.”

 

“When Tatooine freezes over, you lousy fierfek,” Eric said and began pulling off more accurately aimed bolts, dropping over half a dozen of them in 10 seconds. Suddenly, he spotted a pair of thermal detonators hanging from HK’s waist and they were just within reach. Stretching out while firing with his other hand, he snagged one of the silver spheres and set the timer for 5 seconds.

 

Engaging it, he flung it across the hangar. With and almighty boom, the rear of the hangar came crumbling down, exposing it to the void of space, since Polis Massa was an asteroid-planet with no atmosphere of its own. The air rushed out of the gaping hole in a hurry and Eric grabbed the side of the ramp to pull himself inside. Barely reaching the manual release button, he raised the ramp and slumped onto the deck, panting heavily and considering HK, wondering why these thugs had suddenly showed up for him.

************************************************************************

“Hmm, this smuggler has a lot more fight than we thought,” said the figure to Tarrk after the latter gave his report on the failed capture of HK-47. “But the droid does not live up to its name if it was disabled by a solitary ECD.”

 

“Needless to say, this experience would drive the human to upgrade his companion with protection against such weapons, especially now that he has credits to burn.” Tarrk said.

 

“Yes, the next time will be harder for our men, especially since that droid will be holding a grudge against his oppressors seeing as how easily it was taken out today.” The figure said. “And if it is true that it can feel, then I’d give it a very wide berth.”

 

“If I may, sir,” said Tarrk. “I propose we wait till the duo gets a firm foot in our organization. Once done, we could give them their targets in such a way that they would eventually have to split up, even if temporarily, to eliminate their targets.”

 

“How would that benefit us in any way other than them getting their jobs done quicker?” The figure asked skeptically.

 

“We could set up a well equipped ambush to wait for the droid at a position it will cross inevitably.”

 

The figure seemed to be thinking. None of the organization knew much about this mysterious leader of theirs. He wore a black flowing cloak and a large hood that covered the top half of his face. If Tarrk didn’t know better, he would have said that their boss looked like the Emperor himself. But that wasn’t true, not by a long shot.

 

“Well, the plan in itself is quite good,” he said finally. “But there are many variables to consider. This should be carried out very systematically for results.”

 

“No problem, sir,” Tarrk said. “A little lost time is nothing compared to an asset like that droid.”

 

“Agreed,” the figure said, nodding. “Alright, we’ll get to work on the plan soon. Go get some rest now, Tarrk. You’ve done a lot for today.”

 

“Yessir, thank you sir,” the Trandoshan replied and walked out of the figure’s office with a salute.

 

The figure stood up and pulled back his hood to reveal a young face. Physically untouched but mirroring a keen eye and a shrewd, cunning nature. It was a face not known to many. He pulled off his cloak to reveal a more distinctive armor: the green-toned, battle-scratched Mandalorian armor of Boba Fett. He opened a small door set into the wall and pressed the single button inside. His desk began to move, revealing a small flight of stairs and a souped up swoop resting at the bottom. In a few minutes, the most successful bounty hunter of the galaxy was snapping on his helmet and blasting off into the plain landscape of their base planet.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Replies 138
  • Created
  • Last Reply

Well, actually, in this story, i was hoping to give HK a more human-like feel. something like a cross between a Sith and a Jedi: one who likes to terminate meatbags but still has a feeling of attachment and friendliness to its companions. and the basic way to bring that out would be to make it speak as much humanlike as possible. although i have already planned this ending to go in conjunction with another series, which features the droid, made by another LF member. one thing was already taken care of in this chapter. i'll think about this when i propogate the last chap. thanks Pottsie!

Link to comment
Share on other sites

<I’ve heard of all forms of kidnapping,> said the Rodian mercenary in the trade language of Huttese, giving a nasal touch to the syllables due to his snout. <But droid-napping? That’s plain weird.>

 

“Or are you just scared?” Tarrk smirked.

 

<Look, kid,> began the Rodian. <I’d like to see you take out a full grown rancor on your own with only a carving knife at your disposal. Once you do that, I’ll consider you worthy enough to argue with.>

 

“Okay, so you killed a beast by fluke, I’m not impressed,” Tarrk waved it off. “But the fact of the matter is that Boss thinks you’re the best suited for this kind of operation, although some of us have second thoughts.”

 

<Fluke Schmuke. I took that thing down in a fair fight or my name’s not Weebo!>

 

“Okay then, what is it?”

 

<Shut up and give me the plan, will you?>

 

“Glad to see you're putting your pea-brain to use,” sneered Tarrk. “Now listen closely and I may be lucky enough to get through to you without having to repeat myself twice. Boss wants you to set up a fake bounty. Get it up on planet Armon, ‘cause the natural electromagnetic disturbances in the atmosphere may help in neutralizing our target. Make it seem that this bounty is extremely valuable and very bad news for the LIBH, but it should have a pair of sub-targets or something.”

 

<Sub-targets? What do you mean?> Weebo asked, confused.

 

“What do you think it means? I want you to make them split up so that we can take the droid with least disturbances.”

 

<How the heck will I do that?>

 

“You're asking me? I thought you were the tactician. Boss just asked me to outline what he had in mind to you, not to assist you in making traps.”

 

<Proves how indispensable to the League you are.>

 

“Get a working plan and then we’ll have a go at each other,” Tarrk said. “You have your assignment. Boss wants you to think it through this time, NO screw ups, or it’s your head.”

 

<I’d like to see him try,> Weebo sneered.

 

“So would I, honestly speaking,” Tarrk said. “And I, for one, have no doubt he’ll rip your guts out in a jiffy. Get to work.”

 

And with that, the Trandoshan turned his back on Weebo and walked off.

************************************************************************

“I’ve heard of all forms of kidnapping,” said Eric as he monitored the power gauge plugged into HK’s terminal. “But droid-napping? That’s plain stupidity.”

 

“Are you saying acquiring a droid of my skills is stupidity?” HK asked, sounding insulted.

 

“No, I’m saying arranging a huge welcoming party just to get a droid is stupidity.”

 

“So you agree.”

 

“Okay, then, forget I said anything.” Eric rolled his eyes. “How’s that EMP shield I got you doing? Your droid personality melding with it?”

 

“Depends, Eric,” HK said, examining his newly painted rusty red frame. “Does the shield like blasting meatbags?”

 

“Umm, HK,” Eric said, unsure whether to laugh or to be concerned for his companion’s logic circuits. “It’s a shield.”

 

HK remained silent and continued his examination with feigned interest. Eric took the hint and left it at that, peering once again at the gauge.

 

“Well, your system functions seem to be returning to normal now,” he reported. “Your primary actuator took a hit though.”

 

“WHAT!?” HK was on his feet in a jiffy. “Tell me you're joking, please, Eric.”

 

“Relax, HK, it’s only temporary. Once your secondary backup drives kick in, it’ll be recalibrated and restored to normal.”

 

“And how long will that take?” HK asked, giving the impression of a highly pissed droid willing to snap anyone’s neck in two if the answer did not agree with him.

 

“Two hours and forty-three minutes,” Eric read out of the power gauge. “And that’s lesser than the flight time to Corellia, you’ll still have time to practice, if that’s what you want.”

 

HK gave a melodramatic sigh and hung his head. “Why me?” he moped.

 

“Oh, can it, HK.” Eric said, slapping the droid on its back and descending down the central ladder to the main deck and his bunks. “Just be happy you didn’t get the whole thing screwed.”

 

“Well, when you put it that way,” HK said perked up. He got up and made his way to the droid repair station where he plugged himself in for a energy re-boost and powered down after a post-activity systems check.

************************************************************************

The pair of man and machine walked leisurely along the Corellian walkway. Eric was splurging happily and HK watched, noting down the changes a bunch of credits could do to the average human. HK’s curiosity got the best of him when he saw Eric paying 750 credits for a high-tech wristwatch.

 

“Isn't that a particularly large amount to spend on a mere timepiece?” HK asked.

 

“On a mere timepiece, yes,” Eric replied, strapping the device around his wrist and admiring it from all angles. “But not on a multi-function wrist computer.”

 

“A digital timepiece,” HK said disapprovingly.

 

“No. Let me show you.”

 

Eric tapped the wrist computer twice and a holographic cylinder appeared around his left arm. It constantly rotated at a slow pace and consisted of many panels, program accessories, computer access code storage and a slicing assistant. As it rotated, the panels and buttons constantly switched places to bring forth a HoloNet access portal, an emergency military-grade comlink, a holocomm and also several emergency stims and energy boosts stored in the watch’s base. As HK peered at the flashing halo of lights, absorbing the sheer ingenuity of the maker of this device, Eric pulled out his comm. And programmed the transponder code into his wristcomm. Once done, he handed the comm over to HK.

 

“Keep this with you,” he said, holding out the small device. “In case we get separated.”

 

HK accepted it and placed it within a small storage capsule built into his upper arm.

 

Just as Eric decided to call it a day and return to his home on the planet, his new wristcomm beeped and Tarrk’s gruff voice patched through.

 

“Richard. You have another assignment. Details will be patched through in a secure file. Open it up with your datapad. Tarrk out.”

 

Eric sighed as he watched the progress of the file transfer.

 

“Just when I thought I could take a nice nap once again.”

 

“Cheer up, Eric,” HK said, cocking his rifle. “We can put others to sleep instead. Permanently.”

Link to comment
Share on other sites

ehehe oops :D in a hurry, H looks a tiny bit like N, and they're situated very close ;) thanks guys! appreciate it. :)

 

No problem RC. We Forumites are always glad to help. Also, RC, when you do return to work on Galactic Conquest II, will you still do Galactic Conquest III? Anyway, I'm looking foward to the next Chapter. Have you planned how long this Fic will be?

Link to comment
Share on other sites

although i haven't planned out the next set of chapters, i'm hoping to make this quite long. as in a medium length novel :D. ok, maybe not that much, but pretty long.

 

GC2, well, believe it or not, i actually forgot where i left off! :D i have to read up what i wrote uptil now and then plan the next few chapters. but i'll work on that. keep your eyes open ;)

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Wow. I'm off for a few days and RC comes out of the blue with a holiday treat: two chapters. Your flow is very good though I am in agreement with you on eleven being a bit fast paced. I suggest watching movies with gun fights and the like. Gives ideas for body movements and the like. HK says words like nitwit? Heck I would have thought he'd give a more colorful description like stupid meatbag or something. That's your call however and I'd still read it.

 

As to the length, if Heart of Deception is any indication of how my mind works, then you'll see that you are in line for a novel. Probably more along the lines of John Jakes in terms of length. :lol:

Link to comment
Share on other sites

w00t! thanks RP!

yeah, his 'statement' stuff was important, but like i said, i wanted to give him a more human feel.

@JM12: i just noticed the 'stupid meatbag' suggestion you said. while that is pure HK, Eric is still his friend, so HK would refrain from using more colourful descriptions ;)

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 1 month later...

“Mafis Dion and Kist Dion,” Eric read out from the datapad as their ship hurtled through Hyperspace. “Twileks on Tatooine. It seems they’re in charge of a droid manufacturing company called Synapsis Circuits and are on the verge of unveiling a new type of combat-slicer droid.”

 

“So, what does this pair have to do with the Guild?” HK asked as he carefully cleaned the blast chamber of his rifle.

 

“The Guild was hired by someone who wished to remain anonymous: another droid manufacturing company, no-doubt.”

 

“Ah, that means all meatbags are not soft as I think,” HK said. “This type of backstabbing is exactly what I wish I saw more in life.”

 

“Can a droid refer to its duration of service as ‘life’, HK?” Eric asked, quizzically.

 

“Dammit man! I have an emotion chip in my head; do you really think I can help it?” HK burst out.

 

“Whoa, whoa, cool your servos HK, it was just a curious question,” Eric said, noticing that the emotion chip wasn’t exactly a big hit with HK. “Do you have a plan?”

 

“I would suggest just dropping a baradium bomb on them from the air, but I don’t think we have much of that lying around.” HK said. “It depends on where and how they are situated.”

 

Eric glanced at the datapad and replied, “Unfortunately for your baradium bomb suggestion, HK, they have separate offices with a good five-thousand kilometers between them.”

 

“Blast! Leave it to targets like these to make our jobs hard for us,” HK said. “Well, Eric, I’ll leave this choice up to you: do we go for efficiency or for caution?

 

“Caution, definitely,” Eric replied.

 

“Very well, we’ll keep together and take out each target together,” HK said.

 

“What did the other option offer?” Eric asked.

 

“We split up and take out each target individually, reducing the time we spend on them.” HK replied.

 

“Maybe we should go for that,” Eric suggested.

 

“It isn’t the cautious method, Eric. Do you really want to go for it?”

 

“Sure. I’d rather not spend that much time on that Force-forsaken planet.” Eric said. “We both can take care of ourselves, and you have a comlink. If I need any help, I’ll call you.”

 

“All right, very good, Eric. I’m rather pleased that you’re beginning to see the merits of efficiency. I do believe my personality has been rubbed off on you.”

 

“Don’t remind me,” Eric replied, rolling his eyes.

************************************************************************

Eric and HK walked down the loading ramp into the arid atmosphere of Tatooine, the heat of the twin suns leeching moisture from Eric’s skin and from HK’s lubricants the moment their feet touched the sandy ground of the Anchorhead Spaceport. Paying the docking fee to the waiting customs guard, the pair of them made their way to a transport rental shop situated opposite the cantina. After haggling over the price, Eric was now in temporary possession of a swoop and a speeder bike.

 

As the ragged shop owner took them out to see their vehicles, the sound of a fight made them look over at the cantina. The door hissed open and a heavily wrapped figure trading blows with a drunk human hit the dust through the doorway. Eric started towards them to help out, but the other patrons were already pulling the drunk man off the other person. In that instant, the person’s facial wrappings dropped off. Ducking low, he retrieved them and hastily pressed them to his face. Waving a hand to thanks his rescuers, he walked off in the direction of the spaceport. HK held the being in his sights until he disappeared from sight around a corner. That face looked very familiar…

 

Finally at the vehicles commissioned by Eric, the pair inspected the machines and satisfied, ignited their engines and, following their respective maps, blasted off into the Eastern Dune Sea.

 

“Good luck, HK.” Eric called over his wristcomm, straining to be heard over the whistling winds. “Happy hunting. Call me if you finish early.”

 

“Certainly, Eric,” HK replied. “Good luck to you too.”

************************************************************************

Tarrk shuffled hurriedly through the alleyway, searching in his pockets for his comlink. Pulling the device out, he commed his boss to report on proceedings.

 

“They’ve fallen for it, sir,” he reported. “They’ve split up and are both walking into traps.”

 

“Very good. Once you get the droid, fix it with a restraining bolt and wipe its memory,” Fett replied.

 

“Understood sir, but what about its companion?”

 

“I’m sure the Sarlacc is quite starved, Tarrk.” Fett replied.

 

“Will do sir. Tarrk out.”

************************************************************************

Sneaking past sensor sweeps and security droids, Eric made his way to a control console to shut down the system so as to get his job done quickly. Getting to it with no difficulty, he calmed down a bit. Hefting his new blaster rifle to support it on his shoulder, he reached for the keypad to begin his slicing routine: just another day at work for the smuggler. But he hadn’t counted on there being a blaster pressed to his back a second later.

 

“Turn around very slowly,” a gruff voice said. “And keep your hands where they are.”

 

Obeying, Eric turned around to face his oppressor.

 

“Drop the blaster.”

 

The hardware dropped to the ground and Eric raised his hands to keep them in plain sight. As he did so, he took a glance at the weapon the other was holding.

 

“Is that a DC-Seventeen?” Eric asked, his eyes not moving off the blaster.

 

“Yes. And it’s got enough punch to blow you to rags, so move.” And with that, Eric got a hard shove and was forced to start walking down a corridor to a destination unknown.

 

“Are you kidding?” Eric said, trying to keep the man off guard. “That thing’s two decades old. It’s ancient compared to a nifty E-Eleven.”

 

“Keep flapping that tongue and you’ll see just how effective this ‘ancient’ thing is. Shut up and keep moving.”

 

“You know,” Eric continued. “If you want, I can get you a nice MerrSonn Plex Repeater for a very affordable price. I hear it’s all the rage among the Imperial Commando forces.”

 

“Shut up!” the man shouted. At that instant, Eric whirled, raising his right foot, and kicked the blaster rifle cleanly out of the man’s hands. He followed it up with a furious left handed punch right to the guard’s nose. He heard a bone crack and saw a spurt of red shooting out of the man’s nostrils. Wasting no time, he pressed his advantage and caught the guard in a choke-hold, cutting off the oxygen to his brain. Ten seconds later, the man was unconscious, with the bleeding in his nose stifled with a patch of cloth which Eric had placed. Moving back to the console, he made short work of the slicing he had meant to do. Once done, he ducked down to retrieve his blaster and quietly made his way to the main office.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Archived

This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.


×
×
  • Create New...