Saga - OT The Cave— Original Character Story

Title: The Cave
Author: rktho_writes
Characters: Original characters: Tamar, Raejar jai-Vizsla Kashuul, spoiler canon character
Genre: Adventure
Timeline: Early Imperial era
Summary: Two Kaleesh bounty hunters cross paths tracking the same quarry and must work together to capture their target.

Tamar pulled the tracking fob from her belt, her cloak flapping in the wind that blew cold on the back of her head. The device’s red light blinked steadily, the small dot framed by her curled fingers. Ahead lay a craggy peak amongst the plateaus that rose up from the fog.

Tamar lifted a tiny pair of macrobinoculars hanging from her neck. Twisting a dial with a claw, she brought the picture into focus. There was some kind of fortress built into the rock face— and the door was open.

Tamar furrowed her brow under her bonemask. There was no easy way to get over to the fortress with the gaping canyon between her and the mountain. Not without an airspeeder.

A sudden roar hummed overhead. Tamar’s gaze shot skyward as a shuttle flew past, a Pursuer-class enforcer with a red shriek-hawk sigil emblazoned on the side. Tamar spat a curse in her native tongue. Another hunter, and a Mandalorian, no less.

The ship came to rest on another plateau, not far from where Tamar’s own craft was parked. The rolling clouds soon obscured the vessel from view.

Tamar again lifted her binocs, slipping the fob back into her belt pouch as she did so. She could barely make out the other hunter’s craft through the mist, but she heard the boarding ramp lower in the distance. A figure emerged from the ship, their own cloak flapping in the fog. Tamar couldn’t tell what species they were, only that they had horns on the side of their head— no, that was part of their mask.

“You there!”

Tamar blinked. The rival hunter’s voice carried surprisingly well considering the distance. She slid her mask up over her close-cropped hair and cupped her hands to her mouth. “Mandalorian!”

The Mandalorian stood for a moment, then began to walk off toward the cliff face. Tamar followed him, mirroring his path on her own ledge, until she realized that the two were connected after all by a small natural bridge hidden by the fog. She walked toward it, climbing down the slight slope to meet her rival.

The Mandalorian emerged into view. In close proximity, the fog no longer obscured the hunter’s features. Tamar’s golden eyes widened at his tusked chin and digitigrade stance.

“You’re Kaleesh.”

“So are you.” The hunter stepped closer, crossing his arms. His mask was unmistakably Mandalorian, but unlike any Mandalorian helmet Tamar had ever seen, it distinctly resembled the skull of a mythosaur, the wings of the T-visor evoking the eyes of the legendary beast. A tap of the helmet’s side and the faceplate lifted to reveal the hunter’s face. By his features, he was a generation her senior.

The hunter furrowed his clay-red brow. He addressed her in their native tongue. “I saw your ship. I knew you were another bounty hunter. I didn’t expect you to be another Kaleesh.”

“Well, I was here first,” Tamar replied in the same language. “The quarry is mine.”

“I’m sure we can work something out.” The other Kaleesh studied her carefully, observing the twin pistols at her side and the sawn-off slugthrower on her back. “The bounty’s high enough for both of us, I think.”

Tamar crossed her arms. She had tracked her quarry a long way to this godforsaken moon, and she wasn’t about to reap only half the reward for her efforts. “That depends on how evenly you intend to split with me.”

The Mandalorian stroked one of his tusks. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but how old are you, exactly? Fourteen?”

“Seventeen,” Tamar snarled. A lie. “What about it?”

The Mandalorian lifted his hands. “I told you not to take it the wrong way. It’s just that bounty hunting is a dangerous profession when you’re alone.”

“So where’s your partner then?”

“You’ve got me there,” the other Kaleesh chuckled slightly, extending a four-fingered hand. “What’s your name?”

She did not acknowledge the gesture. “Tamar.”

“Clan name?”

“I don’t have one. Not anymore.”

“Ah.” The other Kaleesh raised an eyebrow, his offered handshake retreating. “Then I suppose we aren’t going to be on a first-name basis.”

“Seeing as I don’t have one,” Tamar replied coolly, “no, we aren’t.”

“No first name?” The other Kaleesh stroked one of his tusks, pondering this information. “How does that work?”

“Giving up names is a family tradition. I almost didn’t keep this one.”

“Hm.” The other Kaleesh ran his tongue over his teeth behind closed lips, unsure what to make of what she’d said. “Raejar jai-Vizsla Kashuul.”

“Jai?” The younger Kaleesh’s eyes narrowed.

“My Kaleesh tribe. Vizsla is my Mandalorian tribe.”

Tamar’s lip curled. Just her luck the only other Kaleesh she’d meet since leaving Kalee would be from the same clan. “Alright. We’ve got names out of the way. Now what?”

“We follow him inside that fortress, then we figure out what to do once we’ve captured him,” said Kashuul. “Sound like a plan?”

“One problem.” Tamar jerked a clawed thumb over her shoulder. “How are we going to get over there?”

The Mandalorian’s visor went down again. His gaze swiveled across the mist-laden horizon. He strode with deliberation towards the edge of the cliff and peered into the abyss.

“How well can you climb?”

———​

A bird squawked in the distance as Raejar swung down another few feet. He glanced up nervously again at the young bounty hunter, who was climbing without the assistance of a grappling cable. For such a gifted climber, she was moving with disconcerting awkwardness. She had not taken a single step so far that didn’t worry him. Every time her foot— or sometimes, most alarmingly, both feet— departed from the cliff face, it seemed as though she would slip and tumble to her death.

It’s just your Mandalorian instincts, he told himself. He still didn’t believe she was seventeen.

He was glad they were almost at the bottom.

“You know, my rope can hold one more,” Raejar called.

“I said I could climb.”

“Never said you couldn’t.”

He heard her grunt. “How much further, Mando?”

Raejar activated his rangefinder and scanned the reading on his helmet display. “About fifteen feet,” he called. “For you, maybe thir—”

Raejar’s heart shot into his throat as Tamar flung herself backward. He watched helplessly as she fell like a monkey-lizard to the ground.

Tamar landed on all fours. She remained there crouched for a moment, then rose and dusted her palms. “Keep up, old man. We don’t have all day.”

“How did you do that?” Raejar gasped.

“Kark if I know. Probably one of my gifts or something. See you on the other side.” She began to walk away while he hung there dumbfounded fifteen feet from the canyon floor.

Raejar shook himself, almost scrambling down to get to the bottom. He jumped down the last five feet and clasped his palms on his thighs, panting. Tamar strode onward toward the opposite side of the canyon, ignoring him completely.

Raejar jogged to catch up. There was no dust in the damp, stony canyon to kick up behind him. By the time he reached the other side, the girl was already climbing up.

He found a handhold and pulled himself up. She glanced down at him, briefly, then reached for another place to grab.

As they arduously scaled the cliff, she finally broke the silence, her curiosity winning out. “So how does a Kaleesh become a Mandalorian, anyway?”

"They liberated me after the Huk sold me into slavery." He gripped a jutting piece of stone with his leather-wrapped toes. After all this time, the memory was still fresh in his mind.

“I thought the Huk stole Kaleesh to be their slaves,” Tamar grunted.

“They did when they first invaded,” Raejar replied, hauling himself up another couple feet, “but then they realized they could turn a profit by entering the black market. I toiled in a Huk work camp for four years before they sold me to a spice colony.”

“And then the Mandos came and freed you.”

“That’s right.” He could still remember the carnage all around the prisoners as they realized the armored warriors had slain all their taskmasters. The way everyone frantically made their way to the ships, eager to get offworld. The moment he glanced back at the Mandalorians’ starships and started running, hoping desperately to catch them before they took off.

“So what about you, ad’ika?” he prompted after the girl did not continue her inquiry. “How did you become a bounty hunter?”

“I left Kalee and joined the Guild.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Why did you leave Kalee?”

“To make something of myself.” Tamar’s hand waved in the air for several seconds, unable at first to find another handhold.

“How did you find passage offworld?” Raejar mused. “Not on a Huk ship.”

“We had starships at that point.” Tamar finally found a spot to grip. “I guess you wouldn’t know about that.”

“I was taken early on in the war,” Raejar affirmed. “I haven’t been back to Kalee in decades.”

Tamar slipped a toe into a cranny. “You’re not missing much. I’m glad I left.”

“And why was that again?”

“I told you,” the girl snapped. “To make something of myself.”

“You were born halfway through the Huk War, weren’t you?” Raejar frowned as his claws found only smooth wall ahead of him. He glanced to the side to see if there was any purchase to his right.

“Look, Mando, I don’t know you,” Tamar snarled. “I don’t like talking about my childhood, so quit bothering me about it, alright?”

“Alright, alright.” Raejar let himself fall back as he tapped his wrist brace. A grappling cable shot out and snagged itself on a rock at the top of the cliff, catching him. Tamar looked at him, surprised.

He retracted his rope a few feet, pulling him up to her level. “Keep up. We don’t have all day.” With that, he rose to the top.

———

Stay tuned for the next update!

 

I like so far.

 

Thank you!

 

Tamar scowled as Kashuul offered a hand to pull her up. She supposed she should be grateful he waited for her, but he didn’t have to rub it in. Grudgingly, she took it and hauled herself onto the ledge.

She gazed up at the massive fortress looming before them. A chill came over her as she took in the brutalist facade. By contrast, the door ahead was small, and it was dark inside.

“Got a flashlight?”

Tamar growled.

“I’ve got a spare.”

Tamar sighed and held out her hand. She snatched the offered device as soon as he presented it. It was small and boxy with a switch on the side. She activated it, casting a dim light into the darkness.

Kashuul’s visor suddenly glowed green with the press of a button. Together, they made their way into the fortress.

Tamar scanned the walls of the corridor. There were lights, but most of them were nonfunctional, and those that were still active were weak and muted. Cobwebs decorated the corners of the walls. The place smelled as abandoned as it looked. Somehow, a puff of dust found its way up Tamar’s bonemask, causing her to begin coughing violently. “Bah!”

Tamar cleared her throat with an agitated growl, shaking her head vigorously as she flicked her cloak aside and pulled out the tracking fob again. It blinked steadily as she slowly panned it ahead. “He’s here.”

She slipped the tracking fob back into her pocket and exchanged it for one of her blasters, holding it in front of her as they pressed forward.

Something scuttled across the floor. Instinctively, Tamar shot it. The flashlight revealed the smoking corpse of a spider-like creature resembling a rat.

“Eww,” Kashuul winced.

Before Tamar had the opportunity to express her agreement, they heard several crackling sounds, like the buzzing hum of an electrical field. Doors ahead of them whooshed open.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Kashuul noted, drawing his beskar swords.

With clanking footsteps, four cloaked droids emerged from the side corridors, each one armed with electrostaffs sparking purple arcs of electricity from each end. Their eyes glowed red as they locked on the intruders.

Tamar didn’t hesitate. She fired several shots in quick succession, taking out two droids through their central cores. The rest of her shots were blocked by the machines as they twirled their weapons to counter her attack.

Kashuul’s swords flashed as he charged forward, beheading the other two droids. He whirled around at the sound of twirling staves. He quickly blocked the incoming strikes, frantically parrying as the headless droids advanced on him.

Tamar shot one droid in the back. The blaster bolt singed its cape but did nothing.

“Go for the middle!” she shouted, blasting furiously at the droids.

Kashuul pierced the glowing red core in the center of one droid, ducking to avoid the swipe of the other droid’s staff. The edge of his other sword clanged against the droid’s leg.

Tamar rushed toward the droid and seized its cape. With a mighty tug, she ripped it off and delivered a point-blank shot to its back. The droid slumped to its knees and fell to the floor, its electrostaff flickering out with a clatter.

Kashuul dropped to the ground, panting. “I’ve… never seen… droids… fight like… that.”

“What are these things?” Tamar wondered aloud as she also stooped to catch her breath.

“Enforcer droids,” Kashuul huffed, swallowing a breath of stale air. “Damn good ones. This has to be a mercenary’s hideout.”

“Whose?” Tamar mused. “Some pirate baron? Maybe a Hutt?”

The Mandalorian shook his head. “I don’t think it matters. I doubt there’s anyone here anymore except for those droids.”

Tamar holstered her blaster, placing the flashlight on the ground and exchanging them both for her slugthrower. “Well, I hope we killed the last of them. Let’s get that bounty.”

Raejar nodded as Tamar continued down the corridor with her rifle at the ready. He stood, briefly casting his eyes over the husks of the defeated droids. His brow furrowed and he narrowed his eyes. He stooped again, taking the fabric of one of the droids’ cloaks in his hand.

“I know these markings,” he realized, staring at the design embroidered on the cape. These are Kaleesh symbols.

A Kaleesh crime lord. Curious and more curious.

His head snapped over his shoulder. The girl was going ahead without him.

Raejar sheathed his swords and sprinted after her as she reached an open door. Together they entered the room, where a single command chair sat in the center, swiveled slightly askew.

He spotted something past the chair, at the end of the corridor directly ahead. “Fierfek.”

Tamar rushed forward, racing down the hall and dropping to a stoop— at the corpse of the target they were supposed to apprehend.

 

These Kaleesh characters of yours are super interesting and some superb action scenes and dialogue here!

 

Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy this fic as it progresses!

 

Tamar slammed a fist on the ground. “No! Dammit!”

Raejar stood over the body, arms folded grimly. “Those droids must have gotten to him first.”

Indeed, the Gran’s lifeless body was covered with scorches, as if he had been stabbed to death by the guard droids’ electroweapons. Tamar ground her teeth. “Dank farrik.”

Raejar regarded their butchered acquisition. “He’s still worth a twenty-five percent of the bounty dead.”

“I don’t want to get twenty-five percent for his sorry carcass,” Tamar snarled. “Aaaarghhhh!”

Raejar sighed. He wasn’t any happier than she was about it. “There’s something you should know. Those droids’ cloaks— the markings are Kaleesh.”

“Markings?” Tamar cocked her head, the furrow of her brow made colder by her lingering anger. “What markings?”

“Come take a look.”

Tamar pushed her bonemask up as she followed the Mandalorian to the spot where they had battled the guard droids, her brow tight with curiosity.

When they reached the droids, Kashuul lifted one of their cloaks. “Look.”

Tamar breathed sharply. “Izvoshra.”

“Yes, these droids do appear to be elite,” the Mandalorian nodded, recognizing the Kaleesh word. “Perhaps specially produced.”

“No…” Tamar replied, stepping forward and taking the cape from Kashuul’s hand. “The Izvoshra. These are the markings of…”

She dropped the cloak, her breath heavy in her gut. The most elite cadre of soldiers in all of Kalee. Could it be possible one of them had survived to construct this lair?

Tamar rose wordlessly, returning to the corridor where they had found the corpse. Raejar followed, his curious eye roving across the walls of the dim fortress.

Many of the corridors’ doors were closed. Tamar cast a glance at each of them, stopping in front of a certain one. It seemed to call to her, with a feeling more than a voice. Raejar came up behind her. “Well? What are you waiting for? Can you get it open?”

A simple press of a button and the two halves of the door whooshed apart.

Raejar entered the room and flipped up his visor, mouth gaping in awe. Before them were twin statues of a Kaleesh warrior, one masked and one unmasked, both with large cybernetic arms made of bronzium, the masked image sporting long bronzium legs. The unmasked warrior’s face grinned as he twisted a severed tentacle in his ghastly robotic claws.

“This is incredible,” Raejar breathed as Tamar stood rooted to the spot with horror. He touched the mechanical knee of the masked statue. “This is like the shrine at the temple of Shrupak… Which mighty god is this?”

A scream rose up from Tamar’s throat. Blaster fire exploded from her slugthrower as she unloaded it into the face of the masked statue, screeching like some terrible demon. With a savage cry, she cocked her gun and unleashed her fury on the other statue until its unmasked face was blasted to pieces. When the deed was done, the rifle dropped from her hands. It fell to the ground with a monumental clatter. Her knees struck the floor soon after as she doubled over, shuddering and weeping as her sudden fury turned to anguish.

Raejar could only stand dumbfounded, watching as the girl lay on her hands and knees, her body racked sobs. Her bonemask lay cast aside on the floor. He looked in astonishment at the smoking, disfigured heads of the statues. “Why… Why would you do this?”

Tamar howled a terrible, blasphemous curse. Her claws squeezed at the hard, stony ground as if she could clutch it in her hands. “No… No… No, no, no, no, no…”

Raejar’s gaze drifted slowly to her, filled with horror and concern. “What did he do for you to desecrate his shrine like that?”

“Nothing!” Tamar wailed. “All my life he never did a damn thing for me!”

“Who is this man?” Raejar asked, dropping to one knee, placing a hand on her shaking shoulder. “Tell me.”

Tamar swallowed. Her intestines threatened to rise up from her mouth. “He’s… my father.”

“Your father?” Raejar’s eyes widened.

Tamar nodded. “The warlord. Grievous.”

 

I am somehow not the least bit surprised to find out that there is a connection to Grievous.

 

Can you guess which Clone Wars episode I watched to prepare for this fic?

 

Between this and your other fic, I'm really getting the sense that Grievous is not paying his dues in child support

 

So it would seem. Though it's a little late now seeing as his burnt-out corpse is probably in a dumpster on Utapau by now...

 

One of the handful that I've actually seen. I don't know the name of it, but I seem to recall that it featured Kit Fisto being a badass.

 

Aye, that's the one. Lair of Grievous.

 

Raejar’s mouth dropped open. He looked back at the mutilated shrine. “General Grievous… was a Kaleesh?”

“How could you not have known?” Tamar caught a sob in her hand and wiped her nostrils. “His mask…”

“I thought…” Raejar stared at the figures, half man and half machine. “I thought he was a droid.”

A resentful snarl choked in Tamar’s throat. “He might as well have been.”

Raejar closed his visor and lifted his helmet, removing it completely from his head, his pointed red ears drooped with compassion. He sat in front of Tamar, placing his helmet on the ground beside him. “You seem like you have a lot to get off your chest.”

Tamar swallowed. “I just… Seeing him again… Even after he’s been dead for so long…”

“I take it he wasn’t the best of fathers.”

“He wasn’t a father at all,” Tamar replied bitterly. “Oh, he was furious when we were starving because of the Republic, but all of Kalee was starving. He never really cared for us. The only emotion he could ever feel was anger. Gah… Sometimes I feel like that…”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Why am I telling you this? I don’t even know you.”

“Because you need to tell someone,” Raejar replied kindly.

“No.” She stood. “No, I don’t. I need to forget all about it. I wish I’d never come here.”

Raejar sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Tamar chewed her lip, glowering at the floor. “Thanks.”

She stooped and picked up her rifle, slinging it over her shoulder. “This was a waste of time,” she grumbled as she retrieved her mask. “I can’t believe those stinking droids got to the quarry first.”

Raejar stroked his tusk thoughtfully. “I’m sure there are some things of value here if we search for them.”

Tamar sighed. “That’s not a bad idea.”

Raejar picked up his helmet and placed it back on his head as he stood. He quietly closed the door behind them as they walked out.

“We’d better not see any more damn statues,” Tamar growled. “Egotistical son of a…” She trailed off into muttering.

“If it makes you feel better,” Raejar offered, “I can look inside the rooms before you go in.”

Tamar’s shoulders slumped. She nodded. “Yeah. That’s a good idea.”

Raejar opened another door to be immediately greeted by a statue of the General holding a severed head. He quickly shut the door. “Not that one.”

“Let’s go this way,” said Tamar. “I’ve got a feeling that’s where the good stuff is.”

They made their way down the corridor, with Raejar stopping to peek inside every room as Tamar walked ahead, ignoring them all. Every single room had at least one statue in it. Every single statue was of the same warrior with an increasing number of cybernetic enhancements.

“He really was an egomaniac,” Raejar observed, shaking his head. “They’re all him.”

“All of them?” Tamar turned around, surprised. “They’re all of him?”

“Yeah?” Raejar furrowed his brow. “Why?”

Tamar laughed with the utmost bitterness. “After all those years, he doesn’t even put up one statue of her.”

“Who?”

Tamar chewed her lip, fearing to say the name lest by so doing she reclaim it as her own. “The Dreamt One.”

“The old Kaleesh parable?” Raejar frowned.

“A sellsword from Grendaju,” Tamar explained. “The only person my father ever truly cared about. It was said they were joined as one soul from before they met. Bunch of melodramatic, mushy hokum, if you ask me.”

“I’m still confused.”

“He was the Dreamer, she was the Dreamt. The parable made literal. They were inseparable. But then she went and got herself killed by the Huk, and he could never get over himself and move on.” If she hadn’t been wearing her bonemask, Tamar would have spit on the ground. “That’s why he called himself Grievous. Guess he’s moved on now. Self-absorbed…”

She turned to face the door in front of them. “So what’s behind this one?”

Raejar opened the door. They were greeted with racks upon racks of spare parts; foremost, the infamous skeletal faceplate, rows of duplicates all hanging from the ceiling rack.

“Kandosii.” Raejar glanced around the room. “We’d make a killing at a Jawa swap meet with this.”

“Let’s keep looking.” Tamar wasn’t particularly interested in spare parts. If they were desperate, maybe they would go with Raejar’s plan. But something was calling to her, and she was going to find it. She stepped around the rack of glaring faceplates to find another door.

“Let’s check this closet.” She smirked. “Maybe his beloved Dreamt One is in here.”

The door opened to a much larger closet than Tamar was expecting. Both of them entered the spacious walk-in, looking around the small room at the display tables of severed braids and the weapons on the walls, from the electrostaffs to handheld blasters of all shapes to a pair of swords hanging above a large, black metal armoire inset in the wall. “Lig swords,” Tamar observed. “Not a statue, but it’s something. Boy, those things look dusty.”

“Of course,” said Raejar, more to himself than to her. “Armory’s got to have armor and weapons. Armor in there, weapons in here.” He placed a hand on the glowing table where severed braids and strings of beads were carefully arranged. “What the Huk are these?”

“Beats me,” Tamar shrugged, glancing briefly over her shoulder to see what he was talking about before turning her attention back to the black case. Whatever was calling to her was in there. She placed a hand on the button in the center.

The armoire doors slid open, revealing a treasure trove of beautifully crafted, individually unique metal rods.

“Laser swords!” Tamar gasped, punching the air. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”

Raejar gasped, his eyes almost popping through his visor. He pushed Tamar aside to look at the display case full of Jedi weapons. “That’s… That’s a lot of laser swords.”

“These will go for millions!” Tamar cheered. “Oh, I am so glad those dumb droids beat that guy to death!”

Raejar lifted a finger, his mouth alternating hesitantly between open and shut as he considered lecturing her on the ethics of outright celebrating the murder of a sentient being because it had led to the promise of monetary profit, but he couldn’t deny what a fortunate turn of events it was to find a hoard of laser swords after such a frustrating setback. He took one of the weapons in his hand and examined it with speechless awe. The hilt was made of the most precious steel, an intricate, shimmering design etched into the simple cylinder. He turned away so as not to accidentally destroy anything or anyone in close proximity and switched the blade on.

A brilliant green beam shot up from the hilt, bathing his masked face in emerald light. The weapon hummed with unimaginable power. He wanted to swing it, but he knew what would happen if he did, so he shut it off before he could give into the temptation.

Having seen a laser sword activated, Tamar’s hunger to hold one grew. Her hand hovered over each of the laser swords, hunting for the one that called to her. Her hand was drawn to a pair of short, one-handed hilts.

Slowly, she removed one, then the other from their magnetic hooks. The weapons felt light, much lighter than she expected. Almost hollow— but she could feel that they weren’t. The kyber crystals hummed inside even as they lay dormant and cold in her hands.

“What are you waiting for?” Raejar whispered. “Turn them on.”

A laser sword ignited. But not one of the swords Tamar was holding. Somewhere, in the distant halls of the fortress, someone else had come, wielding a Jedi’s weapon.

 

But is it really a Jedi's weapon? Or is the newcomer a Darksider?

 

Hmm... Who can say? I don't know that our heroes would know the difference.

 

“Have you ever killed a Jedi before?”

Raejar shook his head. “No. We need to get out of here.”

“Let’s grab as many laser swords as we can carry.”

“There’s no time!” Raejar hissed. “If whoever just walked in here with that laser sword finds us, we’re dead.”

“We have laser swords too,” Tamar insisted, gesturing to the cabinet full of laser swords with the pair she was currently holding.

“Laser swords we don’t know how to use,” Raejar countered, grabbing her arm. “Come on!”

They ran from the room and took a sharp left, dashing deeper into the darkness as the faint hum of the laser sword grew closer and closer. Instinctively, Tamar took a right. Then a left. The compound became more and more mazelike with every turn, like a labyrinth of evil. Raejar followed her with unwavering trust, sprinting alongside her through the halls as they fled their sword-wielding enemy.

Tamar skidded to a halt as three security droids turned their heads. “Other way!”

The machines gave chase as the two Kaleesh ran for their lives. Tamar fired a few useless shots over her shoulder which the droids dodged easily.

Raejar slammed a button and two doors immediately shut together, cutting their pursuers off. Tamar blasted it so they couldn’t be opened.

“Let’s hope that wasn’t our only exit,” Raejar panted.

“Are you kidding?” Tamar replied incredulously. “A place this big with this many passages, and you think there’s only one way out of this death trap?”

Three simultaneous zapping noises slammed into the door behind them, shaking them out of their respite. Soon they were running again, putting as much distance between themselves and the guards as possible before they broke through the door. A few more twists and turns and they stopped again, confident they had lost the droids for the time being. Tamar holstered her pistol so she could lean on her thighs with both hands.

Amidst their panting, the sound of heavy breathing began to drown out their own. Both their eyes widened in terror as a red glow emerged from the corridor in front of them.

Into the hallway stepped a black, towering figure cloaked in a long, dark cape, wielding a blade that burned crimson, illuminating its fearsome features, the glow reflecting off its soulless black eyes.

No one spoke. No one moved. The vibration of the specter’s blade was the only sign that time had not stopped. Before them stood an armored titan, holding what was, in its hands, the most deadly weapon in the universe.

The figure took one step forward.

“You have no idea what you hold in your possession.”

Its voice was deep as a chasm, the rumble of an oncoming storm.

Tamar’s heart beat slow, but thunderous.

“Surrender the lightsabers.”

Tamar choked out a reply. “Never… Jedi s-scum.”

Raejar gripped Tamar’s shoulder. His soundless voice echoed in Tamar’s ear. “Run. Now.”

Tamar’s feet were made of carbonite. The phantom stretched out its hand— whether to take the laser swords or to lift them by their throats, she could not tell. It stepped closer, its weapon still hanging at its side as it advanced.

Raejar yanked her hand. Tamar’s heart started again, beating almost faster than she was running. They heard the buzz of the security droids’ weapons as they spotted them and broke into a sprint. “Ad be striil!” Raejar swore.

But the guards halted in their pursuit, and against her better judgement, Tamar looked over her shoulder to see why. The droids turned away from the targets they were pursuing to circle the black behemoth. His laser sword twirled, cutting them effortlessly to pieces in seconds.

“Dank farrik,” Tamar would have breathed if she’d had any breath.

The debris from the droids swirled in the air. Suddenly, they were hurtling towards them. Raejar tumbled forward as a chunk of blunt shrapnel struck the back of his helmet. Tamar whirled around just in time to see a security droid’s head flying straight for her. She threw her hands up to shield her face.

The collision never came. An immense pressure made Tamar’s hands tremble as if some great unseen force were pushing against her. She didn’t dare open her eyes. Grunting, she strained against the weight, feeling as though she was keeping a hurricane at bay.

“Impressive.” The demon’s voice threatened to break her concentration. She couldn’t keep this up forever. With her eyes screwed shut, she threw the great intangible mass aside. The head of the security droid clanged loudly as it bounced off the wall. Tamar stumbled backward, her eyes flickering at her feet. Without thinking, she reached for her slugthrower. Her arm flew up as a shot exploded from the end of the truncated barrel.

The phantom’s blade spun. Sparks exploded, spattering its masked face with glowing metal. Partially blinded, it swung its sword outward as if annoyed. Tamar took advantage of the opening. A second slug buried itself above the shadow’s belt. The titan bent. Slightly.

Tamar rushed to Raejar’s side, yanking his arm. “Come on!”

Raejar glanced over his shoulder. Tamar helped him to his feet. All the while the phantom stood glaring at them with its unchanging countenance. Tamar thought she detected a subtle change in its ghostly breathing.

Raejar gripped the back of his head as he broke into a run. Tamar glanced one last time at the phantom, then broke into a sprint after him. The monster followed, slow and ponderous. Tamar whirled around to fire another shot with her slugthrower. The bolt halted in the air in front of the colossus’ fist. The plasma around the projectile trembled as it hung suspended. With a clench, the slug flattened, causing red sparks to explode from where it had been frozen. It clattered to the floor as the titan stepped forward, its boot eclipsing the husk of the crushed bolt.

Suddenly, the doors closed in front of the behemoth, then in front of Tamar. She blinked.

“Ad’ika!” Raejar shouted. “What are you doing?”

The muffled sound of the predator’s blade piercing the door jolted Tamar out of her mystification. She caught up to Raejar, recognizing the need to put as much distance between them and the unstoppable machine as possible before it cut its way through to the second door. She ran ahead of Raejar, and he followed her lead as she turned down corridors, acting only on instinct.

Tamar stopped in front of a door that was different from the others. Raejar caught up with her, cradling the back of his head. “Well?”

“There’s something about these panels,” said Tamar, furrowing her brow as she inspected it. “The other doors don’t have them.”

“Well, can you open it?”

Tamar pushed on one of the panels. The panel moved, but the door did not.

“It must be a combination lock,” Tamar realized. “You have to push them in the right order.”

“We don’t have time to go looking for more treasure,” Raejar replied urgently. “We need to find a way out before that thing catches up to us.”

Suddenly, without their doing anything, the door opened.

 

If that was not Darth Vader, I will be shocked.

 

Well, it's not like Raejar or Tamar would know who Darth Vader is...

 

Well maybe they wouldn't, but, it was Darth Vader, right?

 

Who else could it be? Of course it was Vader.

 

I knew it!

 

Tamar rushed forward, but Raejar yanked her back by the shoulder. She scowled at him from under her bonemask.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” called an affected, metallic voice from inside. “Get in here before that monstrosity catches up to you.”

The two Kaleesh exchanged masked glances and entered. The door shut behind them with a hiss. Several disconnected cables hung from the ceiling, and at the opposite end of the large room was a small control center with several security feed monitors. The occupant of the chair stood and trotted over to the two Kaleesh, revealing itself to be a droid wearing a holomonocle and carrying a full arsenal of medical tools on its back. “No one’s come poking around here for ages,” remarked the droid in its effeminate, slightly deteriorated voice. He glanced at both of them in turn. “Who are you two?”

Raejar cocked his head. “Who are you? ”

“I am EV-A4-D,” said the droid, holding out several right hands, “and if that other intruder is to be believed, you have something that belongs to my master. ”

Tamar crossed her arms. “Who? Grievous? He’s dead. I don’t have to give you mumuu spit.”

“What?” The droid’s head jerked from side to side with surprise. “How long has he been dead for?”

“Since the end of the Clone War,” Raejar replied.

“I was not aware that the Clone War had ended,” said the droid, shaking his head. “That explains a great deal. I always knew his recklessness would get him killed someday.” The droid thoughtfully spun a clamp on one of its back appendages. “So why have you come here?”

“We were tracking a bounty,” said Tamar. “The droids got to him first.”

“Ah, yes, the MagnaGuards,” nodded the droid, beginning to waddle around as if pacing. “That Sith Lord out there has made short work of them. You handled them almost impressively yourselves.”

“What’s a Sith Lord?” Tamar demanded. “You mean the Jedi out there?”

“Oh, no, that’s no Jedi,” replied the droid. “My master killed Jedi. This intruder is not a Jedi. He must be Count Dooku’s replacement. I assume he is dead as well, which is why another red laser sword-wielder like him has come to my master’s sanctuary without permission.”

The droid glanced from one Kaleesh to the other. “Now would you mind telling me who you are?”

“The name’s Kashuul,” Raejar replied. “The kid’s name is Tamar.”

“Ah!” The droid cocked its head, peering at Tamar closely. “Now that is interesting.”

“Why?” Tamar demanded, leaning away.

“I seem to remember…” the droid replied unhelpfully. “One of them, at any rate… I could be mistaken…”

“Remember what?” Tamar’s claw twitched at her holster. “Talk, droid. How do you know my name?”

“From his memories,” said the droid, lifting a thin, hypodermic finger. “He requested that some of them be… removed. I remember your name cropping up in the extraction process.”

Tamar stepped back, a dull storm beginning to swell behind her eye sockets. “He had his memories… removed?”

“Oh, yes,” the droid nodded. “All memories of family. He didn’t want to remember anything about his old life besides his glory days as a warlord, and even then…”

The storm throbbed, its rain pooling in Tamar’s bottom lids. Her lip hung aghast, trembling. Why was this revelation so devastating? She already knew her father had cared nothing for her. How could this insult possibly injure her further?

Her voice escaped weakly, thick. “No memories of family? None?”

“He was insistent,” replied the droid. “It was about one month after his full transformation. He said they were a distraction, but I know better. I did examine those memories after all.”

Raejar furrowed his brow, placing a hand on Tamar’s shoulder. “You okay, ad’ika?”

Tamar’s ungiven answer came out in a single sob.

“You seem quite upset,” the droid observed dispassionately.

“Of course I’m upset!” Tamar screamed in the droid’s face. “How could he throw us all away like that?”

“You are his daughter then,” said the doctor droid. “I’m sorry I had to remove you from his memory. It was too painful for him to remember.”

“Too painful?” Tamar snarled, clenching her fists. “Too painful?”

“He had a lot of memories like that,” the droid remarked, as if she hadn’t spoken. "He claimed they were simply unnecessary."

Tamar ground her teeth. A vain attempt to dam the flow of tears. “Coward.”

“Oh, that was for certain,” the droid agreed. “He was always running away. Sometimes I wonder how he even became a General in the first place. I suppose he did have some competence, but if you ask me, he was better off before the changes. Even after reviewing his memories I still don’t understand why he submitted to them.”

A loud, crashing slashing sound startled all three of them. Raejar and Tamar rushed to the security cams.

The predator stood on the slab he had cut through the door, blade flickering white in the camera feed as he stared directly into the monitor.

Raejar swallowed. “Haar’chak.”