Saga Ain't Me - OC Summer Challenge Entry - 2-3 ABY

Title: Ain't Me
Author: Rau_Fang
Timeframe: 2-3 ABY
Genre: Action, Adventure
Summary: Oops, someone gets himself into trouble when he starts posing as someone he's not.
Disclaimer: George Lucas and Disney own Star Wars.

Btw, this is a response to a wonderful oc challenge by Ewok Poet:

Your character experiences walking in somebody else's shoes. You may interpret that in any way you like: they can fill in for somebody at work, read somebody's mind...or pretty much anything in between!

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"Now, I know ya'll heard this before, and I hate to get all cliché when ya'll obviously very busy with my abduction and all ... but ya got the wrong man!"

A man called out to his captors. His head was swallowed in a thick black canvas bag and wrists bound in eletrocuffs behind his back. His captors, two humanoids, attempted to ignore him as they were huddled in a dank and narrow alley on Ord Mantell. He slouched atop a large empty egg bin at their center. The third member of the gang, a spindly human female with thick red hair, arm length kryat dragon tattoos and large gauge earrings, kept watch at the entrance to the alley a dozen or so yards away.

The spaceport was not far away, yet this particular alley was untread. Bins of refuse, organic and not, were haphazardly strewn about out the backdoors of various bars and businesses on the main strip a block away. Wary graveyard shift busboys generally knew the stakes for gangsters that used this back alley for nefarious purposes and avoided it when occupied at night.

"Wasn't the..." The ringleader, a Duros, of the gang began to say.

"I'm innocent!"

"Shut up!" the Weequay in the gang growled at the bagged man and grabbed him by the collar of his salmon colored tunic. He thrust the hapless captive solidly to the ground.

"Ah!"

Unfazed, the bagged man wiggled and squirmed to put himself supine. His bound hands pressed against the ground and the small of his back. The electrocuff tingled through the fabric of his tunic and black leather vest. Goosebumps rose on his arms.

"I know that exclaimin' 'I'm innocent' generally don't do much in the way of proving one's innocence but... uffgh"

The Weequay pulled back his leg and swung it into the bagged man's side with all the force he could muster. It made a watery, fleshy thud sound that harmonized with a snapping crack. The Duros snickered, covering his mouth.

The bagged man writhed in pain and attempted to go fetal. He gasped for breath and sucked for air until the black canvas at his mouth started to turn damp. He took in one final deep breath and said weakly:

"You better watch out... I'm not alone."

"We know about the Wookie."

The bagged man groaned.

"You said he would be here, Mende," the Weequay said.

"Yeah, Ukxean, he could just be late."

"I dont like it."

"Mende?" The bagged man asked tentatively. "From the sabacc table the other night?"

"What of it?"

"Curious, that's all," The bagged man stated confidently this time. "Who's the bounty hunter yer waitin' for?"

Mende gave Ukxean a nod, who leveled another kick into the bagged man's side.

The bagged man cursed and writhed, groaning through clenched teeth.

Ukxean said ignoring the bagged man’s cries, "What am I supposed to do? Just stand around? I’m not getting paid by the hour."

"Nothing we can do," Mende shrugged.

They stood around thoughtfully while the bagged man steadied his breathing.

"Hey I got an idea," Ukxean said as he rifled through a satchel at his side. "I lifted a mobile scan grid off pawn shop yesterday night. I hear it's got a wicked bite. Here it is... maybe we can ‘interrogate’ the bounty here while we wait."

"What?" the bagged man yelped, wriggled and shook at his electrocuffs. "Maybe we can talk about this?!"

"What about the goods?"

"These things are great! I had a few buddies do time at the Kessel Spice mines who told me about it. You get your hand in there accidentally and it hurts like hell. But it doesn't do any permanent damage."

Ukxean held up the rig with its inert prongs and dangerous spindles. Mende considered them as he scratched a pimple on the crown of his blue, bald head.

"Boba Fett won't mind, I think."

"Boba Fett?" the bagged man asked.

"Boba Fett."

"And who he huntin' bounty for?"

"Smartass -" Mende signaled Ukxean, who gleefully threw another kick into the bagged man's side. As the bagged man sputtered and coughed and groaned inside of his black canvas bag the Weequay gently laid the device face up on the ground. He flipped a switch and the small platform hummed with electricity. Ukxean and Mende grabbed the bagged man by each arm.

"Let’s hold him over it. Don't worry, it'll scan right through his shirt."

"Guys I..." the bagged man's voice cracked and failed as he was hoisted above the scan grid.

"Alright, let him down careful and make sure to have a firm grip on him. You don't want to gut him on the spines."

As the bagged man slowly descended, he tossed and squirmed. Still the bagged man was securely held by the physically dominant gangsters.

"Aghh!" The bagged man started. He sucked in a burning breath and grit his teeth. He clenched his fists and wrestled desperately with his handlers. Finally the pain beat out any and all of his fight and flight instincts.

He let out a blood curdling scream.

They held him there and he screamed again.

The woman at the far end of the alley skirted her watchly duties and craned her neck to see the havoc her compatriots were wreaking.

It was not until he went limp and he bore no energy to scream again that they held him aloft. He was gasping for breath and the entire black canvas bag over his head was now damp with sweat, saliva and blood. They carelessly tossed him aside.

"Whew!" Ukxean said and stepped near the bagged man's motionless form. With a kick he flipped the man onto his back. He sat on his haunches and unbuttoned the top two buttons of the bagged man's shirt. He surveyed the torture technique applied and admired his handiwork.

"Look at that!"

"Pretty cool," Mende said. "Let's see how our boy is doing."

Mende poked the bagged man with the the toe of his boot.

The bagged man stirred and groaned. He shook his head slowly and croaked, "Ya didn't even... ask... any questions."

The captors exchanged pleased looks and laughed heartily. Ukxean clutched his sides.

"You think we care?" Mende wiped a tear from his bulbous red eye.

"Ya might," the bagged man said with his chest heaving. "I got secrets."

"Secrets, huh?"

"There's one I'm thinking in particular."

The bagged man hissed as he adjusted the electrocuffs behind his back.

"Very well then!" Mende said and nodded to Ukxean before grabbing at the bagged man's arm. "Here we go, Ukx, we've got a secret to extract."

"Wait, wait!" The bagged man begged. They snatched him up and held him aloft, the boots on his feet dragging against the duracrete. He swung his shoulders and threw his elbows but he was unable to break free.

"I ain't Han Solo! I ain't!"

"Stop, stop," Mende ordered. "Hold him up, hold him up."

"What do you mean?"

The bagged man's weary head swung on his shoulders as he spoke, his limbs dangled like a marionette, "At the sabacc table I was usin' a psuedonomial. I thought'd be funny if I said I was Han Solo."

"He's lying!" Ukxean said.

"I can't believe none of ya'll seen't a holo of Solo," the bagged man said. "I don't even look like him!"

Ukxean ripped the black canvas from atop the man’s head.

"Ah!" the bagged man yelped as the backdoor security lights struck his blue eyes. His pupils constricted quickly. His long wavy blonde hair mussed by the black canvas bag and blood dribbled down the corner of his fair lips.

"You know what… I’m starting to think that I’ve heard Solo’s hair is brown?”

"I figured he bleached his hair," Mende said defensively. "He looks Corellian enough."

"Corellian?! Ya cain't tell by my accent I'm Nar Shaddaan? Why I never..." The man-not-Corellian spit at the ground, "Corellian."

"He talks enough to be Corellian."

"I ain't no Corellian."

"Alright," Mende grabbed the man-not-Han Solo by the shirt collar and sat him down on the large empty egg bin. "If you ain't Han Solo then who do you think you are?"

"Wedge Antilles."

Mende reached up and struck the man’s face several times with a three-fingered slap.

"Ah. Ah. Ok. Ok! I'm Lars Kannon."

Lars began cough blood in fits. Mende leaned back with disgust. Lars slipped from his seat and collapsed to the ground. When he finally finished his sputtering, he weakly spit the iron tasting blood-saliva mixture.

Mende opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the white noise of a jet pack bearing down from above. They all looked up and saw Boba Fett descending slowly on a cloud of smoke and flames. He cradled an EE-3 carbon rifle in his arms and his face was obscured by a helmet with a black tau-cross visor.

As Fett landed softly a few feet away from the gang, Mende wretched Lars to his and held him close so that Lars could feel the warmth of the Duros’s breath on his face. Mende hissed, "If you are who you say you are then you're about to wish you're someone else."

"What?" Lars asked but was ignored as Mende tossed Lars towards Fett. Lars stumbled until he found his footing. He stood up and faced the armor clad bounty hunter.

He smiled wide.

"Hey we've met, right?" Lars asked. "Yeah! Ya got a few more dings, buddy, but you're looking good!"

"Who is this?" Fett asked.

Ukxean sighed and rubbed his temples with his thumb and index finger. Mende balled his fists and his face turned a shade of purple.

"Who is this?" Fett asked again evenly.

"Lars Kannon, remember, on Ilium?" Lars interjected. "We were prisoners on that pirate ship. Ya didn't let us out of our cell, but don't worry, we found our own way."

"He said he was Han Solo! At the sabacc table!"

"He lied. And you've wasted my time."

Boba Fett jetpack lit up like he was strapped to a candle and he started to fly away.

"Wait! Ain't ya gonna to make them let me go?"

Boba Fett levitated above them as he growled, "No."

"I'm not worth a bounty or nothin'?"

"No."

"Still?"

Boba Fett hit his main thrusters and he zipped, over the building and out of sight.

Mende hung his head low while Ukxean fumed. The wiry redhead ran over and with a raspy voice called out: "We get paid?!"

"No... hey where do you think you're going?"

Ukxean snarled at Lars, who was slowly backing away from the gang. As the Weequay began to bare down on him, he turned to run but his foot caught the edge of a trash bin and he tumbled to the ground. He squirmed to right himself and swung his body to stand up. Instead, Ukxean jolted over and planted a foot on Lars chest, pinning him to the ground.

"So, I know stuffs look kinda bad now but later we might just laugh about this silly misunderstandin'."

Lars smiled apologetically, struggling to catch his breath under Ukxean’s weight.

"Hey Mende," Ukxean eyed Lars like a gundark would a nerf calf. "What do you suppose they would have done with the real Han Solo?"

Mende looked up from his mope and with a confused expression. With a glance, Ukxean directed Mende's attention to Lars.

"Oh! They'd torture him some and kill him!"

Mende smiled.

"We shouldn't let Lars here miss out on the full Han Solo experience."

Mende rose to his feet and paced towards the Weequay and his prey, “Since we are out our money, we might as well get our money's worth out of..."

"Ughth!"

In a blur, a very large human man dropkicked Mende from above. With a crack and a thud they collided like a defensive mid hitting an unawares smashball back. They collapsed to the ground. Mende was crushed. He had cushioned the tremendous fall for the assailant at the expense of his consciousness and several broken bones.

"Sithspit!" Ukxean yelped helplessly. He drew his blaster. The mangle of limbs, hair and tendrils lay motionless on the cold duracrete a few feet from Lars and Ukxean, who still held a foot on Lars' chest.

"Hngg..." one of the bodies groaned, an arm started to slowly uncoil itself from the mess.

Ukxean grimaced and leveled his blaster at Mende and his assailant.

Suddenly the bodies rolled. The assailant's body switched places with squashed body of Mende. A blaster, nestled in a thick and calloused human hand, caught the light of the alleyway and flashed in Ukxean’s eyes. Ukxean covered his face and jumped back.

He pulled the trigger of his blaster. The searing red laser shredded Mende's back in an explosion of green-black goo and foul smoke.

"Arrgh!" Ukxean stepped off Lars chest and fired again and again. Laser after laser burrowed into the Duros. Hidden from harm, the assailant fired his blaster twice. Their twin screams echoing off the walls of the alley again and again. The first red beam hit Ukxean in the chest and the second traced wide right, striking a wall in an explosion of sparks.

"Argh," Ukxean held his chest and fell backward at Lars’ feet. Blood flowed between his fingers and dripped off. The charred wound in his chest was still emanating smoke as he laid flat out in front of Lars. Through the haze Lars could see the assailant glaring out from beneath Mende with dark eyes.

"Big Dee!"

Dee spun his body around to aim his pistol at the final gangster. She was running away. Her hurried footsteps click and clacked against the duracrete even as she rounded the corner and disappeared.

Dee took in a deep breath and sighed. Lars laughed anxiously. He laughed until blood mixed with saliva in his mouth.

"Where did ya come from?" Lars asked as he stifled his anxiety and adrenaline.

"The fire escape," Dee said. He stared up into the fluorescent glow of the nearby security light.

"Two stories? That's some Kowakian Jumpman type shennanigans."

Lars whistled and pushed himself to his feet.

Dee didn't smile. Instead, Dee winced as he shed Mende off of him like the covers of a bunk. Lars stumbled over to Dee, turned and knelt down. He offered his hand as they were cuffed. Dee took both of them and, together, Dee swung to his feet.

Dee bled from his elbow where a black blue bruise blossomed. He sucked for air as he put weight on his right leg and recoiled.

"How're ya holding up?"

"I'm fine."

"I don't know which one of these grease-stains' got the chit to these cuffs. Ya take the Weequay you smooshed and I'll get Mende."

Lars huffed as he fumbled blindly with cuffed hands through Mende's pockets. He found the security chit and inserted it into the port near his wrists. The buzzing current disappeared and the cuffs popped open. Lars let them fall to the ground with a soft clink against the duracrete.

He felt the Duros neck for a sign of green blood pumping through blue veins.

"Hey Dee, this guy’s alive. Incredible! He was shot like four or five times.

"Fine," Dee muttered. "Leave him be then. Ain't no need to shoot him while he's down."

He held Ukxean's billfold. He removed imperial credits from it anddropped it onto Ukxean's chest.

"For grievances," Dee said deadpannedly to Lars as he held the credits aloft.

Lars smirked and knelt down by Mende, finding credits stashed away in one of the Duros’ vest pockets.

"I need bacta," Dee sighed.

"Me too..." Lars fingered through the credits and tallied them up. "Maybe this'll cover us."

Lars walked over to Dee and offered him a shoulder to lean on. Lars struggled under the weight of his much larger cousin but managed to support him as they both limped away from the sprawl of bodies.

"Ya gonna tell me why I had t' jump off a roof today?"

Lars’ cheeks flushed red.

"Might've told a few folks I was Han Solo. I figured I might kick up some game... but I didn't expect to get waylaid like that."

"Real smart..."

Lars started to cough and shake. He brought his hand up to his mouth and pushed against Dee.

“What’d they do?”

“Kicked me a few times. Maybe got a lung thing... I’ll sleep it off.”

Dee sucked in a deep breath and slammed a fist against a nearby garbage bin.

“Hell, Lars,” Dee growled. “What’dchu go and do somethin’ like this for?”

"Rumor has it Solo's runnin' with Rebels. I've been fishin’. He's supposed to be really close with the top brass there. He might know where... Masque is."

"All them rebel peoples we interrogated... ya think he might be the guy on the inside? A smuggler with some kinda bounty on his head to match his ego?"

"Can't know. Thought I'd get the lay of the land posin' as Solo. Didn't think he'd have a bounty big enough for Boba Fett crawl out the woodwork."

“I swear you’re the densest… What’d Uncle Bruce say if he…”

Dee rubbed his temples. He shoved against the bin and propelled himself away with pained steps. Then he stopped and turned slowly, taking several small hops to face Lars. They locked eyes and Lars withered.

Dee took a deep breath and his features softened: “Ya ain’t goin’ alone, Lars. No more of this handsome rogue bullwocky ya got strapped on. If we’re gonna get at Han Solo, we’re gonna need to work together.”

 

I liked the pseudonomial thing too.

That was a bit twisty.

Great characterisations and dialogue. I would have made more of Lars ability to react to kicks before they happened.

How chilled was Fett? "Who is this? Bye." Too cool for school.

"Few extra dings." Your boy Lars is not phased by anything.

Thank you, an entertaining story; and first time I have seen a scan grid used since the Empire Strikes Back. That abo "lifted" it from a shop? Must be like stuffing a plasma tv up your jumper!

 

You and I need to do a crossover sometime. Why? Because we both produced groups of downright crazy characters, yet they seem to be pretty...human. And they have another thing in common: tendency to get in situations that will get them close to death. So, if there ever is "have everybody kill everybody, but make it funny" challenge, we work together on an entry, K?

And Lars had nothing but sheer luck here. Silly Nar Shaddaan, didn't you think that posing as the freakin' Han Solo when half of the Galaxy was searching for him would get you in trouble? Tut-tut.

Enjoyed this a lot, though the beginning was a bit confusing. Sorry for the late response and thanks for responding to my challenge.