First Contact

[James 'Slinger' Antilles]

James smiled and patted the dashboard fondly, he frowned concerned for a moment. He ran a systems check to make sure his manual override hadn’t done any damage to any of the systems. It shouldn’t have that was the way it was designed but sometimes a hink accured that meant a reboot lest it stall next time he tried it.

“It’s more of a home than a sword.” James pondered thoughtfully “Though I suppose it’s just as important to my honour and my trade as a sword would be for a warrior. I never thought of a sword being a home before.”

“Makes sense. Jedi seem to value their laser swords like a home. Most honour bound warriors have some sort of attachment to a specific item they depend on for their survival. Jedi and their lightsabers. Mandalorians and their armor.”

“Anthropologically there's probably some academic explanation of a society evolving to depend on said specific items for survival and therefore grown an emotional attachment. I like the idea of it’s because they need a home better though. It’s more poetic.”

“I suppose my blasters are familiar and specific to me as well.” James acknowledged drawing and twirling his blasters. “They have three settings standard, rapid fire and power shot. Pretty good at long range as well though for that I usually use my rifle. Only problem would be I’d need to know well in advance I’d need it. Enemy’s aren’t always accommodating with forewarning and even if they were I wouldn’t be. Although some fools like the whole drawing duel at fifteen paces. I usually accommodate them.”

James grunted at some of those fools. Some of them were two bit gangsters most were fool hardy kids dreaming of things found in holocomics. Like that stupid kid back in the bar. For some reason James couldn’t shake him. Maybe he should have what do you call it deescalated the situation? He’d done that a time or two when someone had the drop on him rather than the other way around. James shook his head. The stupid kid had made his decision and was probably already headed down a dark path. James just ended it earlier then he had been expecting.

James focused on Tzar’s for a moment.

“Oh huh? A Mynock? Oh just a joke they’re annoying little parasites that leech of ships. Bloody annoying frackers when you’re travelling through an asteroid field.”

James felt a little guilty at Tzar’s sincerity about James comparing himself to a Mynock. James started to pay attention more closely as Tzar described his past and people. He felt a little touched that Tzar decided to honour him by sharing. James didn’t know the Kounjan or really any Kounjan at all let alone well but even he could see that honour meant a great deal to the race and culture. Perhaps even to Tzar in particular.

There were some warrior races like that like the Noghri. Most of them got swallowed by the galaxy and spat out again their culture and their ways eroded by the greed and mass populations of the various powers and factions of the galaxy. A rare few like the Mandalorians seemed to adapt. James wasn’t sure Tzar could adapt so easily but he was sure he could persevere and survive perhaps even thrive.

James had sympathy for Tzar’s description of a fallen race to internal disputes. It was a common enough story. Privately he also thought he wouldn’t like to live on a world or race such as he described. After all here he was having a chat with a cannibalistic executioner bent on galactic domination. James gave a mental shrug. Not his business until it became his business.

Right now Tzar was a client what he did before and after the job he’d hired James to do was none of his business. Until it became his business, and even then he better be paid bloody well to take on someone like Tzar. Besides despite his bloodlust James liked the strange creature. He also wondered if being forged in darkness was a metaphor or literally through the dark side of the force.

James didn’t believe in most of Jedi and Sith philosophy or atleast didn’t live by it, but he’d be a fool to deny it’s power.

“I hope you find the” James paused for a second he was about to say peace, but given his warlike nature James didn’t think that would be appreciated “the heart.”

“Thank you for sharing with me. I am honoured to hear it.”

James frowned and hesitated as he pondered what to say next. He couldn’t just turn back to flying not after Tzar opened up like that. He wanted the conversation to continue he just wasn't sure how without coming off... dishonest? Which was rare for James he usually liked a good spin and con. For some reason though Tzar's fierce integrity measured a more honest response.

“The only real home I’ve ever had is this ship and maybe my uncles ranch, but I’ve never belonged to… a culture like that. There have been attempts I guess. The miners had their own community. The ranchers there’s. The military it’s own. I’ve always been a personage of the galaxy belonging to all but none at the same time. Despite what happened to your people your lucky to have had that for however short a time.”

@Tzar Arakx

 

[Tzar Arakx]

Tzar had spoken to this outsider more than he had to anyone else in a long time. A part of him felt warm, welcome, safe, but deep down, he had a quest. A mission of revenge and retribution. He tapped his chest twice, claws rasping against the boneplate, a silent vow of the old ways. Duty till death. The words he repeated to himself in moments like this.

He was a frozen warrior bound by blood and oath to the Kuonjan race. This was his reality. This was his peace. Yet parts of him were thawing to the new reality he found himself in.

Of course, he heard it, deep down. The orders. The screams. The path. His duty. But so far from Esthoriel, the blizzard seemed to have an end in sight. He was further from home than any Kuonjan had travelled. There were none to report to. None to correct his mistakes. Only himself and his thoughts, swarming like uncontrollable hail inside his skull.

Jedi, Mandalorians, Mynock's. So many new things to process at once for this Kuonjan warrior, maybe too many things. He felt like a fool with his lack of knowledge of this new universe. This existence was not made for him, not this galaxy, not this time.

This overwhelming pressure he felt, a numbing frost that blanketed his mind for just a moment. But a moment was enough for the winter to escape into the ship. The air started to turn bitter, a cutting, icy cold that could not be swept away with fur or fire. It was subtle for now, but with time it would grow. “We thank you, James'' the insectoids chitteres were heavy with melanchony as the words escaped his maw.

The Kuonjan looked outside into the vast, endless space beyond the ship ''Many turn from truth when they hear it, yes. You did not. That… is good. You say you have no tribe. We do not pity. You lived. You bled. Alone. And still standing. That is strength, yes.'' He turned slowly, eyeing the ship’s interior. ''We see your ship now. Not just machine. Not tool. It is clan. Hull is your bones. Engine, your heart. We understand this, yes.

Tzar looked at him again, this man with no oath, no chitin, no rites. “You thrive, yes”, he said quietly. “Even when pain is present. You hide under words, yes. Trick we have not learned. Not taught. Not allowed, yes.” His mandibles clicked softly. “Strange. But not weak. We think… perhaps, this is a kind of armour, yes” The warrior leaned back, his gaze unreadable. “We do not forget ones who listen, yes.''

The warrior pulled with slow reverence the old, rusted star chart out of the folds of his robe. He unwrapped it with careful fingers, as though disturbing old bones. Then placed it down before the mercenary. ''Read the map, find the thieves, yes'' His mandibles clicked again, slower this time. There was much he had to learn in this strange, flickering galaxy. Technology. Custom. The way of now. In time, he would adapt. But for now, he had James.

@James 'Slinger' Antilles

 

[James 'Slinger' Antilles]

James grunted in satisfaction at Tzar’s generous praise. It was a tad more poetical than James usually heard from his clients or passengers, but it had a certain lyricism that James enjoyed. A sincerity that he rarely heard. James wondered at the soul of a poet of someone who maintained they lost their heart. James still had his doubts as to the veracity of that claim, he wasn’t quite sure save perhaps from droids that any being any organic being at least could maintain life absent there heart, and yet in a way that just made their mission more important.

If there was an object that was so dear to a person that they could claim it to be their heart then it was important that it be returned to them. James internally grunted in satisfaction at the thought. It had been bugging him a little that he was in the company of and indeed helping a cannibal who ate people to survive. James was beginning to doubt that the little fuzzy creatures would be enough to sustain him and was mainly hoping he himself would not wind up on the menu.

Despite his murderous quirks however James liked Tzar. A Jedi would perhaps agonize over the conflicting nature of that, but James lived a more flexible lifestyle. Tzar wasn’t the first murderous client James had had nor would he be the last, but at least he was an honest one, and an honourable one if James was any judge of character. Most times when dealing with a murderous client James had half a mind on killing them first before he was killed. If it came to that however James would be genuinely saddened by Tzars death. Assuming he could kill him in the first place. James didn’t want to test the theory if he could avoid it.

“Aye I like that a ship is a heart, a beating one. You want to know what the first rule of flying is? Love. You can learn all the math in the 'verse, but you take a boat in the air you don't love, she'll shake you off just as sure as the turning of worlds. Love keeps her in the air when she oughta fall down, tells you she's hurting 'fore she keens. Makes her a home.”

James nodded with a contented sigh.

Nodding briskly while Tzar took out the rather ancient looking star chart. James frowned wondering what he was supposed to be doing with something so ancient other than perhaps sell it to a collector or a museum. Then again at least they had a lead.

James looked at the star chart and frowned chewing his lip.

“Lemme see if I can’t upload that to a more modern star chart.” James punched in some numbers and got a scanner out. “I use this to scan forgeries and duplicate them but it should work for your star chart, get it uploaded into the ships system.”

James set the scanner to work. James hummed to himself while the scanner got to work It took a few minutes but it eventually uploaded to the ships nav computer. The coordinates came up on screen.

“Korriban!” James groaned “You never mentioned the thieves were Sith!”

@Tzar Arakx

 

[Tzar Arakx]

Tzar did not answer immediately. The name hung in the air, Korriban, unfamiliar, but not without shape. He tilted his head slightly, a faint creak in the worn joints of his carapace. His mandibles clicked once, a dry mechanical sound. Not curiosity. Not alarm. A kind of recognition, quiet and functional. The Sith. That name, at least, was known. He had fought beside them once. Not for loyalty, but for necessity. Their cause had aligned with his own for a time, blood for blood, war for war. There had been order in that violence, and deception behind it. On that same battlefield, his kin tasted their blood, and it was foul with treachery and lies.

Tzar stepped closer to the chart, his gaze steady. The glow of the navscreen washed pale light across the jagged ridges of his exoskeleton, drawing no expression. He studied the coordinates. He understood none of their context, but he understood place. A world with weight. A world meant to be feared. That would be enough. “Korriban is new to us. Remember James names have no power. Together we walk its dust the same, yes.”

He let his gaze fall on James. Not judgmental, not questioning, simply present, like a blade not yet drawn. ''We warred beside the Sith, in days gone, when alliances were fleeting and truths were sharpened into weapons. we bled beside them. And bled them. We recall the taste of their arrogance. Steel-cloaked, fire-tongued. Admirable in the way of blades that refuse to bend.” His chest swelled slightly with the faintest hum, a low, bone-vibrating resonance that might have been the Kuonjan equivalent of a sigh. Or perhaps a prayer. It was impossible to tell.

He paused. Then gave the smallest, slowest nod, a gesture sharpened not by emotion, but by intent. He turned slightly to face the pilot’s chair. “You know the vessel. You know the void. Get us there unseen. Let the galaxy slumber in its ignorance while we drift into its marrow, yes.”

“You are not Kuonjan, not Kin, but we will share the honour of battle. That is enough, yes.” He stepped back again, folding his arms behind his back in a stance both monastic and militaristic. The stillness that followed was unnatural, like a mausoleum that had learned to breathe. The ship hummed. The stars whispered.

@James 'Slinger' Antilles

 

[James 'Slinger' Antilles]

James groaned. So now not only was he working alongside, hell practically for a cannibalistic soul eating monster he was now going to fight the Sith. Or at least steal from them. James hated the Sith. They were lunatic, mass murdering sadistic oppressive tyrannical scum bastards, and that was putting it kindly. They were also powerful, like Jedi level powerful. The only fools crazy enough to take on a Sith or Jedi without powers of their own were Mandalorians and even they were rarely stupid enough to do it one v one.

James groaned.

“Fine we have a contract. I ain’t saying I’m backin out, but if we’re going to the sacred Sith homeworld we’re gonna have to do it carefully. My scanners will help us dodge most hopefully all of the outer perimeter defences, but if we get through we’re gonna need a cover.”

James chewed his lip thoughtfully wishing he was chewing some hard herbs, but he’d told himself he’d quit. A thought struck him.

“How’s your sense of honour feel about lying to the thieves who took your heart?” James asked a little wearily.

“You could be a bounty hunter. You’re big and scary enough for one. I could be your bounty. I’ve got a half decent one on my head by the Sith. One too many jobs for the Republic I guess. Hell we might even be able to collect it and split the bounty.”

James cheered up at the thought. Going to the the Sith homeworld sacred to all of the Sith factions and collecting his own bounty, was a tale he could tell for many free drinks round the Sabaac tables. It would add to the legend of Captain Slinger.

“Frak it.” James grunted as he entered in the coordinates and jumped through hyperspace.

They arrived a couple systems over on Felucia. James pulled up a holo map projector of the galaxy on screen.

“Right this is us on Felucia. These are the Sith Worlds. Korriban. Ziost. Thule. Dromuund Kas and Malachor V. Now they’re all sacred to the Sith, but currently none of the major Sith factions hold them. Yet. But like I said they’re sacred so they still send out… pilgrimages I guess. Usually to some Sith Lord or anothers tomb, or to harness dark energy for a ritual. I don’t know if they have a truce with each other around the Sith worlds or if it’s a free for all. Each could be equally bad for us. If they’re at truce they’re as close to united as they’re ever gonna get, if it’s a free for all they’re likely to shoot on sight.”

“Either way my scanners should pick them up before we run into them, and hopefully I’ll be able to calculate a route through their patrols. If we do run into them, I’m a fair flyer and should be able to get us out or through.”

“Now once- if- we get to Korriban we start looking for your heart, but and I cannot emphasise this enough, we do not engage if we can help it. The cover story is you’re a bounty hunter you want the best price for me and are waiting to see which Sith faction offers the best price so thought you would offer it to whomever gave it on the Sith homeworld.”

James eyed Tzar.

“This does not mean you get to beat the ever loving kack out of me, but try to sell it.”

“Hopefully that gets us through customs and security checkpoints while we look for your heart. Then once we find out we say we’ll wait on the ship for the highest bidder. Hopefully collect as much of my bounty as possible before we hightail it out of there. Split the bounty fifty fifty.”

James let out a breath.

“Lot of ‘hopefully’ in this plan.”

@Tzar Arakx

 

[Tzar Arakx]

Tzar stood while James spun the web of deception, unmoving but for the faint scrape of mandibles working against one another. He listened in silence until the last “hopefully” was spoken, then inclined his head slightly, the gesture as much an acknowledgement of risk as of agreement. A rasp of air escaped him, the closest thing he had to a sigh.

“Dangerous, yes”, he said flatly. His voice held no fear, no hesitation, only the recognition of an inevitable weight. “But not without shape. It may be done, yes.” He shifted, carapace creaking as his leg began tapping. For the smallest moment, his stance lifted, almost taller, almost lighter. The echo of battle-spirit stirred the quiet hunger of one who had long been withheld from such adventures and daring quests. But just as fast, it faded again, and the stillness returned.

His eyes moved, fixated on James. “You walk with courage Captain, yes. Most of the flesh would turn or worse. We have marked this, yes.”

The words were neither praise nor comfort, only fact, cold and unornamented, as though catalogued into some eternal ledger. He paused, mandibles clicking once before he spoke again. “We claim no coin, yes, did not come for weight of credits. Only the heart, yes. With heart, we leave. Without heart, we remain, yes.” The last syllables dragged low, like stone grating in a crypt. Then silence closed around him again.

Once the vow was spoken, Tzar moved with deliberate calm, unhooking his blade and checking the serrated edge. Each stroke of his talon across the weapon’s length was ritual, a death-rite. Silence filled the cabin.

Then, with a faint turn of his gaze, his green devil eyes fixed upon James. The Kuonjan watched the captain’s posture, the tilt of his shoulders, the casual sprawl of his limbs at the console. Tzar’s mandibles clicked softly, uncertainly, then slowly and stiffly. He shifted his stance to mimic James somewhat, folding one long leg across the other, leaning slightly to the side as though lounging. The effort looked wrong, like a statue forced to bend.

He adjusted again, crouching lower, pressing one hand to his belt like James did when checking his blaster. This time, he spoke in a low growl, "Ain’t no mark too slippery, no quarry too far, yes" The delivery was hollow, flat, utterly devoid of inflexion. He turned, eyes unblinking, and rasped "This . . . is bounty hunter guise, yes"


@James 'Slinger' Antilles

 

[James 'Slinger' Antilles]

James listened to the breath of air which he at first took for maybe a sign of disagreement or anger, then he recognised it was what passed for a sigh of Tzar’s people. James had stopped worrying about whether or not Tzar was a threat. He knew these honourable warrior type species they’d die before they broke their word or betrayed an ally. Admittedly they’d kill you if you did either as well. James had a… flexible relationship with honour at the most righteous of times, but he had no intention of abandoning a job once he’d agreed to do it. It was bad business for one. James had a reputation to uphold.

“Glad I meet your standards of approval and employment” James said dryly raising an eyebrow.

James nodded as he heard Tzar’s terms of collecting the bounty. Excellent. Collecting his own bounty would have been a coup for his reputation. James thought about negotiating Tzar to take a percentage. James tried to be fair with his partners. Doubling the score sounded good, but it meant twice the objectives. Tzar was the employer it was his job, his call, his heart.

“Don't worry you'll get your heart” James assured him. James frowned. “I guess we better find your heart then. I don’t want to be stuck on the Sith Homeworld for long.”

James sighed, cursing his conscience.

"Tell you what the bounty can be my payment for the job. I get the bounty. You get the heart. You won't have to pay me double."

James looked at Tzar attempt a bounty hunter guise and had to school his face, resisting the urge to laugh. Warrior races who ate people could be prickly enough about their honour they would take great offense if they thought they were being mocked.

“Look just be… well not yourself, but pretend you’re bringing a captured trophy prize to be delivered to… a high priest or hive queen or something. Someone sacred in your culture. The other members of your tribe want the juicy morsel you’re bringing in but it’s your job to deliver the prize to whomever the top person is and collect your reward. No one else touches the prize till you get your reward.” James attempted an analogy making several assumptions of Tzar’s culture only realising in hindsight that he may have been deeply offensive.

“Er no offense.”

“Anyway point is bounty hunters come in all shapes and sizes. Trandoshans do it for the hunt and the skins, Mandalorians for the honour, Droids because their programming needs a legal outlet. Point is they’re still of their cultures they just apply their warrior traits to a pursuit of a target. I’m sure your people are disgusted by monetary gain, but pretend whatever reason you need for bringing in a prisoner alive and don’t try to pretend you’re a different species.” James tried again.

“Now remember bounty hunters guard their targets jealously so you have every reason to protect me from any Sith that tries to collect or harm me before giving you a fair price.” James added as a thought.

“Alright hope that helps” James said with a sigh. He checked the scanners.

James had to hop jump in hyperspace several times to check for patrols. He was glad he did.The Sith Patrols were frequent, but he half thanked half worried that they didn’t seem organised with each other. Worried because they also seemed to be avoiding direct path confrontation with each other. As close to united as he’d ever seen them.

They got picked up a tail outside Dromuund Kaas. James flew into a rival factions space on Ziost out of their way on Korriban, but he was focused on survival. It was a near run thing. James was dodging interceptors the whole way. Fortunately when he lead them into the path of a rival star destroyer the two fleets of interceptors played who has the better position for awhile. Unfortunately they did not fire on each other.

A bad sign.

“Ok we’re approaching Korriban. Hail their outer perimeter fleets tell them you have me as bounty and want to negotiate terms with the sith factions for the best price. Condition that you negotiate on planet in the… Ah hell in the Valley of the Sith Lords. If your heart is as valuable as you say that’s where they take all their trophies.” James scowled admitting it reluctantly.

“They won’t like that. It’s their holy site. Say you demand to be treated with honour, dignity and respect yadda yadda” James raised an eyebrow. “Hopefully they buy that.”

James really wished he didn’t have to say hopefully so much on this job, but then he seemed to say it every job.

@Tzar Arakx

 

[Tzar Arakx]

Tzar listened in silence, mandibles grinding faintly as James explained the manner of bounty hunters and their motives. His head tilted now and then, slight, precise movements, as though cataloguing every word into a rigid mental schema. When James finished, the Kuonjan straightened to his full height. “Understood,” he rasped. “We are to… deliver the morsel to one of power. Guard it from lesser claimants, yes. Demand worth and dignity for the prize, yes.” The tone was utterly solemn, as though he were reciting a holy text.

He considered the matter a moment longer, then added with grim conviction, “It shall be done. we will guard you jealously, Captain, yes. None shall lay fang or blade upon you until we are paidy, yes.” There was no irony in his tone. To Tzar, this was a sacred oath. The ship’s comm crackled as the Sith patrols came into range. Without waiting for James, Tzar reached out and opened a channel.

The holographic sigil of a Sith destroyer filled the screen, crimson and black. Tzar’s voice dropped lower, resonant and commanding. “Attention, vessel. We bear a living bounty, designation, Captain James Slinger, wanted by multiple factions. We claim right of delivery and reward, yes. The quarry is ours to present. We will negotiate terms upon the sacred soil of Korriban, the Valley of the Lords, yes.”

Static hummed. The comm officer on the other side hesitated, uncertain how to respond to the towering insectoid speaking like a knight reciting oaths.
“We demand honour, dignity, and respect in accordance with your ancient rites, yes”, Tzar finished, the words landing with ritual gravity. There was a pause, then the comm burst alive with sharp, indignant voices. “You speak blasphemy, creature,” one officer snarled. “The Valley is forbidden to the uninitiated. You will divert to orbit and await command authority,” another barked. “No outsider filth sets foot on sacred soil.”

The Kuonjan’s mandibles flexed once. His carapace gave a faint, resonant creak as he straightened to his full height, looming in the viewport’s red glow. When he spoke, it was with the slow, measured gravity. “Then your sanctity has grown fragile,” he said. “If mere presence profanes it, perhaps the dead who lie there have grown weak in their rest.” There was a long pause. Then a curt reply: “Proceed to Korriban. You will be met by an escort.”

Tzar closed the channel with a slow, deliberate motion. His mandibles clicked once in satisfaction. “They have answered,” he said simply. “The mask holds.”

@James 'Slinger' Antilles