Saga ~ Who I am ~ - Dear Diary Challenge 2007, COMPLETED 12/21

I'm sorry, Mama Vader, but this time it's rather incoherent that interesting.

I have no idea, dances. I don't really like Boba, which is probably why this is the diary of Lancer. Their reuninon might not be too happy. (At least for me...)

Thank you, Alexis. Consider yourself added.

Don't worry Azure, this is supposed to go for the whole year. You'd have found it later or much later.

---

[u]Day 16[/u]

I decided to tie up the loose ends of how I came here before looking further into the past. I need to be systematic or I might miss something important. It is strange how writing things down has become a fixed habit in the last two weeks. I know that now I wouldn't forget things, but it just doesn't feel right if I don't write it down.

And then there is that threat, that I might still forget the moment I remember all my past. I don't want to forget. Maybe I'm a bastard bounty hunter when I am me again, but right now, I don't want to. I want to keep this part of me. I am not sure I like Boba Fett.


I have broken into the records of the space port the Slave I had been in. It had taken off a few days after I had been found. Nothing out of the normal had been noticed: Boba Fett had brought the ship, and Boba Fett had left with it. You cannot see behind that mask. It must be really convenient for him

I wonder, why it was convenient for me. Was it a face I wore in public, so I could live in peace when I put it down? Did I want to be recognised only on my terms. Had I myself taken the armour like that from it's former owner, was there an unbroken line of Boba Fetts through history.

No. I read about history, he did not always exist. But the thought was intriguing. take an identity and drop out when you had enough.

Did I have enough?

But I decided to put that question up for later, when I remembered more about the circumstances of my last mission.

So my ship is gone. So are most likely all funds that were connected to it and my identity. Except for the secret ones, those that were only accounted in my head. One way or another, I was not poor. I could afford better treatment, I could - but could I?

What if my survival was just an unintentional oversight? Would somebody come after me, if I showed my face? Did anybody know my face? With a shock I realized that I didn't know if I had good friends out there, friends who would realize I was not me any longer.

I did not have a woman waiting for me somewhere.
I did not have friends waiting for me out there.
I was still nobody.

Of course, Boba Fett had friends, or at least colleagues, a fling here and there, but the private man, me, what about him? Who waited for the man without the mask?

I am again getting off track. If I do not concentrate, I will get sidetracked like this all the time. Yes, my life and past is a mess, so what? Spinning in mad circles will not help any. I must calm down. I must find my centre again.

I go to the gym and run until it is closed down. Still, it was not far enough.

 

Far from incoherent!

I wonder, why it was convenient for me. Was it a face I wore in public, so I could live in peace when I put it down? Did I want to be recognised only on my terms. Had I myself taken the armour like that from it's former owner, was there an unbroken line of Boba Fetts through history.

No. I read about history, he did not always exist. But the thought was intriguing. take an identity and drop out when you had enough.

Did I have enough?

But I decided to put that question up for later, when I remembered more about the circumstances of my last mission.

All natural questions! I loved this update. I think it's my favorite so far.

 

Thank you! Dankeschön!

*beams!*

And yes, it is go good that I was destined to find it!

*should also check out DGs stories tomorrow evening!*

 

Wow! Very nice update. Thank you for the PM. I'm looking forward to more.

 

Thanky you Mama Vader. I tried to be logical, but Lancer's thoughts just kept jumping from one thing to the next. Maybe it's a natural thing in his state.
Favourite? That means I really have to polish up my next updates.

You're welcome, azure. I'm glad you like it.

I just hope the next update can keep up the high standard you're expecting, Alexis.

---

[u]Day 17[/u]

I stole a moment with Sinar, telling him the doctors had forbidden me to talk with him.
He snorted and does not seem the least surprised.

"It was bound to happen sooner or later. It always happens." His face shows a mixture of bitterness and contempt.

"I'm sure that I can sneak reports to you every now and then, though," I assure him and feel a little guilty. Buying his goodwill like this just didn't feel right. But Sinar just nodded.

"It's better to pretend to be playing along. They can make your life hell, if you don't." His face clouds over and he turns away without another word.

I wonder about his last comment and promise myself to take a look into his files. I felt unusually protective of him suddenly and the idea that doctors had abused their position of power -

Now I was thinking like Sinar. It had probably just been a kind of therapy. I mustn't let myself get biased. Bias is - no, not wrong, but dangerous. if you don't see all facets of a situation, you are lost.



I broke into the hospital files and looked up Sinar. He has spent almost all his life here, from his eighteenth birthday on. He is now about thirty. I wonder if his family does not care for him. Is he as alone as me?

I find the time Sinar referred to. He had had fits of violence, he had been isolated, quarantined and the new ESTA therapy had been tried on him. The medication had had sever side effect, though and they had returned to their normal treatments. His file is long and sad. No change of his state had ever happened, except for that one time, and all hope was lost. He would stay here until he died.

I wondered who paid for him. I searched the records, I broke deeper into the system. there was his family. They paid. they asked for new therapies, they asked for hope.

There was none.

Sinar didn't take their gifts out of suspicion, he didn't recognize his parents, accused them of being spies. And, being his parents, they were probably not strong enough to endure his world for long.

I looked up who paid for me, but there was nothing. A public line transferred a certain amount of credits to the institution every month to keep inhabitants that had no money. I was living on welfare.

I had money, but still I was living on welfare. I decided that I must activate one of the credit lines. But to do that, I must get out. And while I was out, I would go to the place I was found and find out what happened.


Today, they asked me about hobbies.

I wonder what kind of hobbies a bounty hunter would have.
I said, I hunt.
Of course, they want to know how I know.
I explain. I am good with weapons, I know about weapons. But what use are they? I am not in the army, so I could use them in my job. So I must hunt.

What kind of animals, they want to know.

All, I say. I hunt them all.

 

OOooooo, I am likin' this story, Lanna! Look at more of your fics, I will....*done being Yoda*

I like how Boba has somewhat of a heart now...it makes you wonder what will happen when he gets out... *strokes chin thoughtfully*

 

I like how you're delving into Boba's personality and not just making him a mercenary in cool armor!



Oh, and keep me on the PM list or else!

 

Well, Eruanne, we will see about the heart. But maybe he will leave the experience with a conscience...
You're welcome to any of my fics. Most are about Boba, though.

Of course, I'll keep you on the list, Mama Vader. I just got the notion that telling people they can back off, too, is the polite thing to do.
I don't like his armour and I don't think Fett is cool. So this fic should be on the safe side.

---

[u]Day 18[/u]

I read all I could find about the recent past of Boba Fett. There is no disruption in his past, no sign that at any time he suddenly acted strange. I wonder how many people there are in this galaxy that would have noticed small incongruencies. I am not very social.

No, not even now, that I could be anything I want. I am still keeping to myself. I stare at the badly painted Boba Fett on my wall. I was hiding in there, consciously or unconsciously.

[i]I did not have much of a choice, did I?[/i]
Probably not. I have been raised to be Boba Fett, notorious bounty hunter. It had not crossed my mind before to be somebody else. Which was probably a good sign, wasn't it? If I hadn't been happy with my life, I would have thought about quitting, wouldn't I?

[i]I like the hunt, I enjoy the challenge and excitement of it.[/i]
Man's a wolf unto man. And I am the wolf unto everybody.


My impostor had to be good. Living up to that mind frame required a radical attitude. Maybe he had really trained long to take my place. Again I start to wonder. What had happened? Had it been an accident, on purpose and if, whose purpose? I need to get out. I must watch the night nurses and guards. I must go back. I have to know!


I looked up the Mando'ade. They seem completely unfamiliar. I know nothing of their history, nothing about their wars, not even their Civil War. Jaster Mereel is a name faintly remembered. Probably the reason I chose Jasper as my first name. But there is more, I know it. He had a protégé, who is never named.

[i]But that name is important - this I know.[/i]

I searched the holonet up and down, small sites, revolutionary and forbidden pages, but his name is gone. Erased in the way the victors write their own history and blacken out everything they don't like. The establishment does not want talk about that protégé around.

So I read about Mando culture. The armour is important, no two sets are the same. The metal has been invented by the Mandos long ago and is said to be very light. That sounds about right to me. I know I have worn the armour, but I did not remember feeling weighed down by it. I want it back.

I can relate to the nomadic aspect of the Mando'ade. I feel the increasing restlessness as days go by and I get more and more pieces of my puzzle together. I know a day will come when I simply cannot stay any longer. Right now, the urge to move on is kept at bay by my lack of information and memories. But I know that even if I don't remember, I will move on.

I cannot relate to anything else. I have never been on Mandalore. I live only one of the Six Actions or Resol'Nare, namely wearing the armour. I speak neither Mando, nor do I defend clan, I have no children to raise as Mando'ade, I have no clan to aide, I would not follow the call of the Mandalore.

I want a real family one day, when this nightmare is over, when I am myself again. Then I will tackle that task. Find a wife, raise children, maybe even to be Mandos. But hadn't I done that already? I think I did. But it had not lasted, had it? If it had, she'd be looking for me now.

[i]I'm not a family man.[/i]
But I want to be. I failed once, but that does not mean I do not deserve a second chance. I had been young then, too young and my wife, [i]Sintas, her name is Sintas,[/i] she was not much older. I wonder why I should have tried. With that urge to travel and the need to hunt, why would I marry aged sixteen?

[i]I wanted to be normal.[/i]
So I did not have a normal childhood, probably no candy for me. I sigh. But what had I expected, Boba F

 

So I read about Mando culture. The armour is important, no two sets are the same. The metal has been invented by the Mandos long ago and is said to be very light. That sounds about right to me. I know I have worn the armour, but I did not remember feeling weighed down by it. I want it back.

I can relate to the nomadic aspect of the Mando'ade. I feel the increasing restlessness as days go by and I get more and more pieces of my puzzle together. I know a day will come when I simply cannot stay any longer. Right now, the urge to move on is kept at bay by my lack of information and memories. But I know that even if I don't remember, I will move on.

I cannot relate to anything else. I have never been on Mandalore. I live only one of the Six Actions or Resol'Nare, namely wearing the armour. I speak neither Mando, nor do I defend clan, I have no children to raise as Mando'ade, I have no clan to aide, I would not follow the call of the Mandalore.

I want a real family one day, when this nightmare is over, when I am myself again. Then I will tackle that task. Find a wife, raise children, maybe even to be Mandos. But hadn't I done that already? I think I did. But it had not lasted, had it. If it had, she'd be looking for me now.

When I was reading about the Mando culture, I found it absolutely fascinating. And you certainly captured that here!

 

Oooo, me likey! *runs for her bus*

 

Darn, I got behind! Oh well, that gave me more to read though.

 

I have to admit, that I had to look up everything about Mandos, Mama Vader. I'm rather happy Boba shares little with them, that makes it much easier for me. I don't have a clue.

Thanks for taking the time to comment, Eruanne. I hope you didn't miss the bus for it.

for getting behind, Alexis. It's not as if I was writing Ks and Ks of stuff each week.

---

[u]Day 19[/u]

After failing spectacularly to connect with the Mando culture, I tried their language next. But again, nothing. I recognized a few bits, like [i]gev, nar'sheb, ke'mot, k'olar, cuy ogir'olar. [/i]The language feels strange, when I say the words out loud. The sounds roll around in my mouth like stones. Have I ever spoken it?

[i]Nar'sheb! [/i]

That is easiest - I don't think it is a good sign.

I am a man in Mado armour who does not speak their language, who does not know their culture, who can't remember adhering to any of the Resol'nare on which their society is founded. How can that be? If I am really Mando, I'm probably the worst there is. In a collection of proverbs, I found something that I can relate to, though.

[i]Kaysh meg miit'gaana, oyacyi[/i] - Who writes, remains.

I have wondered, the doctors said I might forget now when I remember then. But I will not be forgotten. Boba Fett will still have these records. He cannot forget me.

[i]Don't believe, I won't try. [/i]
I will be your conscience, Boba, you just take care.


The night shift is a lousy lot at looking out. I tried to sneak away last night, and would have made it easily. I did not expect it, so I had no destination to go. I stood outside, inhaling the night air deeply. I know I live on ships and transports more than on the surface, and it felt good. For the first time since I began to remember I felt free and ready to go.

I decided to time my outbreak on a Saturday night. We were allowed to sleep long on Sundays, so nobody would be suspicious, if I did not get up until midday. So I could either catch up on my sleep, or gain a good head start. Of course, that depended on what I found.

This time I did not expect everything to come back to me in a flash. I would have to wrestle my memories out of their hiding places one by one, but if that was what it took, I would do it.

[i]Nobody escapes Boba Fett - this I know. [/i]


When I returned to my room, I sat down to do some more research. There is not that much I can look for left. I would have to trust in hunches for further information. Maybe I should look back and see, what worried the doctors most. that should be good clues to my old self. The language files seem to mock me.

But one thing struck me, when I leafed through the dictionaries for Mando.

[i]The Mando word for computer is solegot. [/i]

 

You're really creating an interesting little corner of the galaxy far, far away here!

 

I like that part. I hope this new Boba isn't forgotten!

 

I like exploring new corners, Mama Vader. There is so much to see in the GFFA, you never get too much of it.

Me, to, Alexis, me too. I like the new Boba much better. But that is out of my hand, really. Except if GL contracts me for further writing.

---

[u]Day 20[/u]

They asked me about Mandalorians today.
I said, I must be wrong. I looked at their culture and language, and I know nothing of it.
They seem relieved and I wrinkle my brow in feigned concentration. What else could I be instead? I decide to take a wild guess. After all, I might not be here anymore in two days.

What if I was a pilot, or other worker with helmet, I suggest. There is an incredible lot of uniforms with helmets to chose from. To find the answer there, would take time. I need that time.

They concede that I have a point. Fire fighters all over the galaxy wear different outfits including helmets and to search through those alone might take forever. I saw the reluctance in their eyes, they did not want to do that search. Another advantage for me. And I readily give up my hour in the holonet to do the search right there under their eyes. I don't have to lie about not recognizing anything though.

Before they leave, I ask them, could I talk to a fire fighter? Maybe, if I talked about my old job, if that's what it was, I will remember.
They say, they will consider. They are not happy about it.
Very good, let them consider. By the time they reach a decision, I will be gone.

On the way to the gym, I saw Sinar and we exchanged meaningful glances. He was wearing a sieve on his head, cables and bits of wire protruded from it. I wonder how he managed to nick it from the kitchen and how big his tantrum will be, when the nurses take it away again.

I keep the schedule I had before I found out who I am. I do not want to raise any suspicions. And the time I spend in the gym is well spent. I changed the exercises a little so they would fit my needs better. Now I know I need run and fight soon. I need the strength to overpower an armed man, I need the reflexes to duck a blaster bolt. It is nice to have a purpose for a change.

[i]My purpose is to hunt.[/i]
But that is a short-lived purpose which suffices only for one hunt at a time. I need more now.
I look what other people make their sense in life. It is, again, inconclusive. I do not want to spend my life serving a god, the greater good or even the lesser evil. It would not be satisfying. The hoarding of money or power does not sound any better.

I want to feel complete.
I want to feel that I am doing the right thing.
I want to feel that my contribution to life does have a meaning, that it makes a difference.
How can I achieve any of this being a bounty hunter?

[i]I [/i] am [i]making a difference.[/i]
No, not really. I might have had an influence, maybe delivering one bounty head or other tipped the scales, but for whom. A bounty hunter does not decide whom to hunt, he hunts everybody. If I ever made a contribution, it was by accident.


I spent the evening with a new report for Sinar. Since I don't know about his latest fears, I improvised, hinted at reduced activity due to a possible mole in the system. I told him of plans so convoluted that only his mind would be able to make any sense from it. Everybody else would just dismiss it as mumbo-jumbo. Assassins from the Emperor prowling his palace in the guise of dancers, mistresses and even royal guards, his secret service infiltrating the health system with nurses and specially secretaries trained to seek and destroy as well, the stuff was not credible.

And because I couldn't resist to try for hope, I wrote of a small group of secretive dissenters that were working against the Emperor, trying to stop him, and especially his quest to terminate Sinar. The hopeless romantic in me insisted on adding a princess. I hope it helps him to find a way out, but I doubt it. Unless, indeed a princess comes to his rescue with a bunch of heroes, he will stay here until the Emperor dies.

 

My purpose is to hunt.
But that is a short-lived purpose which suffices only for one hunt at a time. I need more now.
I look what other people make their sense in life. It is, again, inconclusive. I do not want to spend my life serving a god, the greater good or even the lesser evil. It would not be satisfying. The hoarding of money or power does not sound any better.

I want to feel complete.
I want to feel that I am doing the right thing.
I want to feel that my contribution to life does have a meaning, that it makes a difference.
How can I achieve any of this being a bounty hunter?

I love how you're exploring this character!

 

Well, Mama Vader, I'm just trying to turn him into somebody I can like. Taking into consideration that I have the rest of the year for that, I might even achieve it.

---

[u]Day 21[/u]

Since this might be my last day in here, I decided to spend some time making preparations. But first I had to get the new 'report' to Sinar. It was not easy to find a time at breakfast when the nurses were distracted long enough to hand the datacard to Sinar with lots of inconspicuous decorum. I didn't want the others to realize what I was doing and being conspicuous to Sinar, while not being noticed at all by all others was not easy.

In the end I managed to let if fall under the table while the nurses had to catch Landed who had rolled away to attack some imaginary Jedi. He might have gotten away with it, too, if he hadn't taken his bowl along to deflect the new and deadly death-rays.

I nodded to Sinar and he signalled back. I just hoped that he believed it. Given time and chance, I might just try to scrounge up a princess and some heroes and see if it will get him out of his nightmare.

I took the time to plan several routes from the institution to the place I was found. Since I had a lot of time, I took into consideration that I might not want to be seen. And that I might want to stop by a bank and a clothes shop first. In here it doesn't matter that I'm wearing the creamy white slacks and shirt of the institution, but ion the outside world it might draw attention. And if there is one thing I don't want, it is to draw attention.

I preordered dark coloured clothes which I would collect before moving on and a some cash in an access box at the nearest bank. I also activated a secure credit line and had a look at the ship market, the less legal one. In case of need, I could get a ship within the hour.

Then It was time for my guarded hour in the holonet. I took some pains to look at uniforms of all kinds, fire fighters mainly, but a few deep miners and space miners, too. The doctors watched me and became more and more bored, while I made my way though the huge amount of data.

I did not get anywhere, of course. But it did not matter. I took care to express the right mixture of disappointment and optimism before I went to get some more exercise. Working out calms me no end. And even though I don't like to admit it, I am a little nervous. Nervous of what I will find. Nervous that it will not go well with who I am.

I went to bed early, packing my things in the dark room and setting my pad to wake me in the small hours. But it is difficult to find sleep. What if tomorrow I am not the man I am now? What if I gave up the hunt? [i]Dream on, Lancer-boy.[/i] What if I didn't give it up?

Who am I?

[i]I will get you, impostor! This I know.[/i]

 

Wonderful!


I went to bed early, packing my things in the dark room and setting my pad to wake me in the small hours. But it is difficult to find sleep. What if tomorrow I am not the man I am now? What if I gave up the hunt? Dream on, Lancer-boy. What if I didn't give it up?

Who am I?

I will get you, impostor! This I know.

 

Let's hope it's still wonderful and not gruesome when he get's that impostor of his, Mama Vader.

---

Day 22

Everything had gone as planned, me sneaking from the property, my money was ready and so were civilian clothes. they felt strange and I know I did not wear them often. [i]I miss my armour.[/i] But at least they were dark and I made my way almost unseen and without raising any notice. I had to look around a little from the place I was found. I seems I crept there from the actually place of the explosion.

When I came into the small alley, I recognised it immediately. And I remembered why I had been here, I was, of course, hunting. Not that the job had sounded difficult, the bounty head was just a bank clerk, female, 22 years old. Whatever she had done, it had gotten her the enmity of Black Sun and they had put quite some money on her head. Easy money, as I had thought.

I had been waiting here, for her to come out of the bank, it was a small, but very well guarded building. The Coruscant Ledger Bank had only few customers, but still wielded a huge amount of the galaxy's legal money. I didn't want more fuss that necessary, and since she lived with he fiancé, I decided that taking her after work would be easiest. Even now, it still made sense.

But something had gone wrong. A member of Black Sun had entered the building, shooting ensued and my prey had suddenly charged out of a side door. All signs indicated a blind panic, the reading of her pulse and heart-rate backed up the impression. And she was running directly into my arms. All I had to do was wait until she reached my position, step out of the shadows and grab her.

Again a door banged shut, and I heard a man laugh. When I stepped into the alley, I saw him throwing a high level shock grenade after her. And just as I grabbed her and dragged her out of the immediate blast region - everything went dark.

It must have gotten us. Both of us, and I was guarding her with my body. There is always a higher bounty on a living prey. But manoeuvring her behind me must have cost me those precious milliseconds to get out of the way of the main force of the blast. And betting on survival was not a sure thing, not even with my armour on.

She must have survived, though. Survived and left me for dead. Or left me anyway. Taking my armour was a logical choice, considering that the other was facing down Black Sun. I know, I would have taken it. And so has she.

The man in my armour, the impostor, is a girl - a mere girl!

I still cannot believe it and there is a part of me that is seething. I returned to the mad house, but I do not think there is a great difference between inside and outside anymore. When a girl is roaming the galaxy being Boba Fett - and with success, too -

I bury my head in my hands.

[i]I want revenge.[/i]
But how can I take revenge, if she thought I was dead.
[i]You do not know that. For all you know, she could have given you the final bowl before taking the armour.[/i]
You're such a negative person.
[i]You're a dreamer.[/i]

One thing I know, now. I cannot return to my old identity immediately. If she had bungled it, yes, if she had failed, yes. But she had not. According to all sources, she had done a favourable job being me.

[i]But still -[/i]

Yes, but still -

 

Oh wonderful! I love getting more of the story!

It must have gotten us. Both of us, and I was guarding her with my body. There is always a higher bounty on a living prey. But manoeuvring her behind me must have cost me those precious milliseconds to get out of the way of the main force of the blast. And betting on survival was not a sure thing, not even with my armour on.

She must have survived, though. Survived and left me for dead. Or left me anyway. Taking my armour was a logical choice, considering that the other was facing down Black Sun. I know, I would have taken it. And so has she.

The man in my armour, the impostor, is a girl - a mere girl!

I still cannot believe it and there is a part of me that is seething. I returned to the mad house, but I do not think there is a great difference between inside and outside anymore. When a girl is roaming the galaxy being Boba Fett - and with success, too -

I bury my head in my hands.

I want revenge.

Bravo! This really is an incredible story!

 

Well, Mama Vader, I'd pimp my other story now, if you were not already on the pm list of that, too. I hope it was not too much spoilers.
Thanks a lot for commenting.

---

[u]Day 23[/u]

I have not slept much this night. My thoughts were spinning and I was trying to find a way to take back my identity. I should not have thought so much. Of course, I'll take it the way I lost it. I will go out, get a life, and her attention.

No, I will get the attention of Boba Fett. I am not quite sure how to go about that. Certainly, I do not want to end up as a bounty head. And, as things stand, 'Fett' will not be keen on making friends. Which leaves only one thing - I must endanger her integrity, her secret. But to do so, I must get out there again, first.

[i]I will hunt again.[/i]
Yes, I will. The easiest way to meet a bounty hunter is to be a bounty hunter. And I know how to be one. First today, I got myself a new ship. A Lamda-class T-4a shuttle. It was cheap because flying around in stolen Imperial vehicles can get you into a lot of trouble, and because you probably had to push that one if you wanted to move it.

I cannot name her [i]SlaveII[/i], though, that would be much too obvious. But she needs a name - names are important.
Her - she.
I have never wondered why we talk of our ships as female. But if I had had a woman waiting for me, it would have been the [i]SlaveI[/i]. Maybe it is making sense now.

But a ship alone is not enough. I had her taken to a space port nearby, officially, and even informed the Imperials. They wouldn't want it back, most likely. For them getting a new one would be much cheaper, and I had first class material to work with. And legal, too. I intended to start her up right. After all, she would have to be outstanding, special, eye-catching, causing a lot of talk. And she would have to be able to rival my old ship.

Foxcatch, [i]because I'll catch the one who foxed me.[/i]
It's a good name. And I already know the right place to get it overhauled. With enough credits, there are places where you can get everything, and there is the one place everything is coming through. Nar Shadda. I won't even need a name there. I can get in touch with the underworld and hopefully take a convenient new identity. And, of course, I would find my first hunting assignment there. On Nar Shadda, somebody was always wanted.


Today they asked me about hate. Since I could not remember love, maybe I could remember hate. It is a strong feeling, after all.
But I tell them, I do not hate. Hate clouds your vision, hate clouds your judgment. The man who hates, is the man that will make mistakes. and the man who makes mistakes, is a dead man.

They do not like the notion. I can see it in their eyes, they consider it too radical.
I look them straight into the eye.

"But I am an uncompromising person," I tell them.

 

Uncompromising indeed! Every update just draws me in more and more.

I cannot name her SlaveII, though, that would be much too obvious. But she needs a name - names are important.
Her - she.
I have never wondered why we talk of our ships as female. But if I had had a woman waiting for me, it would have been the SlaveI. Maybe it is making sense now.

Particularly liked that.

 

This keeps getting better!

 

Well, Mama Vader, Uncompromising is one of the words that immediately comes to my mind when I'm thinkingabout me, um, Boba, I mean. I always thought of him as hard, but that could only be because he's just not compromising on anything. A trait I can respect. ( Lanna making a first tentative step towrds liking Boba Fett! Everybody RUN!!! )
Married to his ship, sound almost like Han....

Welcome among the living, Alexis. I'm glad you're still around and enjoying yourself.

---

[u]Day 24[/u]

I woke up thinking about Darth Vader.
We had our run ins and disputes, and being a Sith Lord, he must have known. He must have felt that it was no longer me inside that armour. Why had he not said anything? Did he not care, as long as the missions were executed to his satisfaction?
I could not help but wonder, what he might think about the sudden change. Did he consider it an irony? Did he consider it at all?

It bothered me that even the on person [i](person?)[/i] who knew about the change had kept silent. I was really nobody without my armour. It annoyed me.

But it also showed me a reasonable way to go. I would hide behind body armour and a mask again. I would melt in and out of events as I pleased. I would be a shadow of myself. And like a shadow I would be unshakeable.

The officials have told me that the shuttle had arrived an been cleared by the Imperial authorities. I paid the landing pad for a week in advance. Then I ordered a service team to clean her and put her into a hyperspaceable state - until this afternoon. Money can buy everything.

So I will leave tonight. It is a strange thought, but it feels good to know I will soon be myself again. Even if hidden. I feel strangely loth to leave Sinar, though. I cannot remember feeling that attached to somebody for a long time. But I tell myself, that he will be alright here. he will be protected, fed and taken care off. In times to be, when I am myself again, I will do something about him. If ever.


I could not help myself, I had to visit him. He stood in the middle of his usual chaos, hands grimy with oil and other fluids, but his eyes shining as if he had just discovered the Kaiburr crystal. In his mind, he probably had.

"I will leave tonight."

He glances at me, then puts his tools down carefully and steps over the rubble towards me. "Did you find out who did this to you?" he asked.

I nodded.

"And you are sure, you have taken all precautions, so they won't see you coming for them?"

[i]Our minds were working much alike[/i], I thought. He didn't doubt I was out for revenge. I let a predatory smile creep over my mouth. "I don't intend to show my face until it is too late - for them."

This time it is Sinar who nodded, obviously agreeing with my plan, even if he didn't know the details. I was tempted to ask him to come along but there was no chance of that. Firstly, he would not want to leave the safety of his own realm, and secondly, he would only be in my way.

"I'll contact you," I simply said instead.

Again he nodded, then something seemed to strike him and he began to search a pile of loose electronics. Without showing me what it was, he put a small device into my hand and closed my fingers over it.

"You might need it, They are crafty." He gave me a last knowing glance and returned his attention to his playground.
I left.

It was a strange parting. But I feel better now, sitting here and having said farewell. Too many people simply vanish from one's life and you never get to say those words. They might mean nothing to the one you leave, but they are a marker. A beacon you can place in your history.

I open my hand to see what it was, that Sinar wanted me to have, but I cannot make anything of it. It's a small dark grey cylinder, rounded at on end and oddly rough at the other. A strange, intertwined symbol is carved on one side, the lines carefully painted with black varnish. I have never seen anything like it before.

I put it into a pocket that closed fast and began

 

This story is so unique! And so well done. Always a sheer pleasure to read.

I open my hand to see what it was, that Sinar wanted me to have, but I cannot make anything of it. It's a small dark grey cylinder, rounded at on end and oddly rough at the other. A strange, intertwined symbol is carved on one side, the lines carefully painted with black varnish. I have never seen anything like it before.

I put it into a pocket that closed fast and began my wait. I will take nothing with me but the clothes I wear and this pad. Everything else I'd need would await me on the Foxcatch.
Time trickles by endlessly slow.
I think, I hate waiting.

But now, it is finally time to leave.