Blood-Stained Hands.
Part 1.
Deadline.
A quick sidestep round a tubolifter, a nimble jump across an open ventilation duct and some dexterous manoeuvring around munitions crates led Xeelee Ogderlin, Republic Base 6b’s youngest runner, and only Nautolan resident, straight to the deserted stairs at the bottom of Lookout Tower 2, and straight into the formidable hulk of Corgrax, strapped in light, leather armour. “
Watch it, ssssscum! Sssstupid youngling,” the Trandoshan snarled, baring his razor-sharp teeth. “
You not see I walk here?!”
“
I-I’m sorry,” Xeelee stammered back; this wasn’t his first encounter with the towering mercenary, “
I was just hurrying. These rations are for –“
“
Rations?!” the merc exclaimed, his red, reptilian eyes glowering. “
Much fights to come today. You give rations to me as apology! Yesss, apologise!” He growled. Grinning like a sadistic demon, he reached out a scaly hand towards the drawstring bags attached to Xeelee’s waist. To his displeasure, Xeelee took an agile jump back, defiant.
“
They’re for Sky-“ he insisted, but too late. Corgrax’s huge hand, clenched into a fist, wrenched round, pummelling Xeelee in the head. His vision blurry, his brain ringing inside his skull, he fell to the floor in a heap.
“
Sssstupid pup sssshouldn’t messss with Corgrax” the Trandoshan laughed. Reaching down and unhooking the bag, he slung it over his shoulder and strode further into the base, laughing callously.
Xeelee stayed put for a while, until the laugh had all but stopped echoing down the corridors. When he was sure the Trandoshan was gone, he pulled himself up, his head still reeling from the blow.
Damn lizard, he thought, spitting. He raised a hand, carefully brushing his tendrils until feeling the spot where Corgrax had struck him. He swore; it stung like hell. Sighing, he laboriously started his trip up to the top of the tower.
When Xeelee reached the top, he quickly swiped his hand over the entry pad and the door shunted open, letting in a cool, crisp blast of morning air. He stepped through, surveying his surroundings. Stretching high above the outer base wall, the tower stood eight stories high and offered a panoramic view of the valley, stretching out miles below. In the distance, the Balmorran sun was rising, its light beginning to spread across the rocky, brown landscape. The lookout post itself was a simple affair, hard, cold metal floors with no furniture. To one side, Xeelee’s quarry laid huddled up under a bunch of blankets and furs, fast asleep and snoring softly.
Perched on a bipod with the barrel leaning on the open window, Xeelee’s favourite pastime awaited him. He hurried over and dropped to one knee, inspecting the sniper rifle as he had done every morning for the past two months. It was high quality, light-weight Aratech sniper rifle with a tri-light scope and numerous expensive modifications applied to its blaster chamber and grip. Xeelee grabbed the rifle and pulled it close to his shoulder. Too long to be handled by a child, the trigger was just out of reach. Instead, Xeelee grabbed the underside of the weapon and tilted his head, looking through the scope. As always, the rifle was pointed straight to the other end of the valley towards the enemy, a mass of makeshift grey buildings, huge walking tanks and a vast array of ordnance, both ground and air. Through the fuzzy, orange tint of the deflector shield that surrounded Base 6b, Xeelee could make out many tiny, far-off Sith soldiers going about their daily business.
They’ve started early, he thought, aiming the rifle slowly from soldier to soldier.
“
How many times do I have to tell you to keep your damn hands of my rifle?” The harsh, grumbling voice startled Xeelee, who carefully eased the rifle back down onto its bipod and turned around to see the man kicking off his blankets and pushing himself to his feet.
“
I’m – I’m sorry Sky- err, Mr. Skyk- err, Mr. Ardrott, sir. I was just looking at the –“
“
I know what you were looking at, kid.” The man said, yawning. “
The Sith still there, huh?” Xeelee nodded, looking up at the man. Skykin Ardrott was young, but far from handsome, besmirched with a long vine-like scar running from temple to chin. He wore simple clothes, sported a thick patch of stubble and his shoulder-length, black hair was gangly and unkempt. Beneath his rough appearance however, Xeelee knew, was a prolific marksman and mercenary. A month ago, the man had single-handedly saved a Republic patrol from a Sith attack, guiding the survivors back to the base staying with them ever since, promising his aid. Since then, he had kept mostly to himself, taking the lookout tower shift, barely offering more than a casual word to anyone apart from Xeelee, who had been assigned to bring him his meals. “
So,” Skykin started, “
deadline day today. Better eat, could be a long one.” He slumped down on the cold, metal floor, sitting cross-legged; Xeelee rushed over, instinctively grabbing for the drawstring bag at his waist, only to find it missing from his encounter with the Trandoshan. Begrudgingly, he reached into the inner pocket of his tatty tunic and pulled out his own ration bar, hesitated for a split-second, then handed it over to Skykin. “
K-18 rations! My favourite,” he said, unwrapping the bar from its packaging and taking a bite. “
Thanks, Xeelee.”
“
You’re welcome,” Xeelee said quietly, suddenly realising how hungry he was. Resigned to his ravenous fate, he sat down in front of Skykin, watching the older man eat breakfast. After a few bites, Skykin felt the Nautolan’s eyes on him and looked up from his rations.
“
What’s that on your head?” he said, staring at the large black-purple welt at the base of Xeelee’s tendrils. The boy started to say something, and then thought better of it. “
Seriously, what is that?” Skykin reached out his hand; Xeelee instinctively shied away, turning his head.
“
It’s nothing” he said, embarrassed.
“
Doesn’t look like nothing.” Skykin replied. “
Has that mercenary been causing you trouble again? What his name, Blorgax or something?”
“
Corgrax,” Xeelee whimpered, looking back at Skykin with big, galaxy-wide eyes. “
He took your-err, he took my rations.” Skykin sighed, realising what had happened. He looked down at his half-eaten ration bar, smiled slightly, and handed it back to Xeelee.
“
Tastes like flarg anyway; you have it,” he said, standing up and walking towards the large, panoramic window. At the far end of the valley, the Sith forces had crept forwards towards the base, lining up in formation at the edge of the kinetic shield. Solemnly, Skykin pulled a cigarra from his pocket and lit it, taking back a long drag. Consuming the ration bar quickly, Xeelee discarded the packaging and stood at Skykin’s side.
“
Have you been in a battle before?” he asked, already knowing the answer. Skykin grimaced, took another drag of his cigara.
“
I fought on Coruscant,” he said, somewhat sadly.
“
What was it like?”
“
Bloody,” Skykin replied, flicking his half-smoked cigarra over the edge of the window, sending it tumbling down to the brown earth below. For a while they stood in silence, staring out at the horizon. Feeling uncomfortable, Xeelee changed the subject.
“
Base commander says he won’t comply with the deadline, says the treaty is a farce, says he’ll keep the shield up,” he said, his words stumbling out.
“
The shield won’t stay up for long.”
“
But the base commander says-“
“
There’s a bomb on the shield generator. It’ll take down the shield, the Sith will attack, and will probably kill everyone,” Skykin said, with a heavy heart. Xeelee blinked, a reflex uncommon for his race.
“
How do you – but! – We have to –“ Xeelee made for the door, in a split moment Skykin firmly grabbed his shoulders, looked straight at Xeelee, his dark blue eyes wracked with guilt.
“
I’m sorry Xeelee - I’m not who you think I am.”
What happened next occurred in both slow-motion and fast forward for Xeelee. The floor shook, a deep booming roar emanating from the lowers levels of the base. Above, the faint-orange tint of the shield dissipated. Across the sky, several black shapes streaked past leaving trails in the air, followed by more shaking and booming. Before he could contemplate what was happening, Skykin had slung the sniper rifle over his back, grabbed Xeelee’s hand and begun pulling him out the door and down the long flight of stairs. Xeelee’s legs moved independently of his thoughts, nimbly gliding down the staircase as he had done so many times before. They hit the bottom of the stairs and ran past the spot where Corgrax had cornered him earlier. All around them, the corridors of the base glowed with intense, dark-red light, the security alarms droning loudly over and over again. As they made their way through the twisting tunnels of the base, they passed a group soldiers armed with blaster rifles running one way, while a group of civilians ran the other way, desperately clinging on their meagre possessions.
As they turned a corner, Skykin stopped in his tracks, allowing Xeelee a moment to regain his senses. Looking around, he saw they were in a dark passageway, which he recognised to be a service tunnel on the outskirts, leading away from the main modules of the Base 6b. Ahead, though the dim light, Xeelee could make out several bodies, all clad in Republic uniform, their faces quiet and lifeless. Looming over the bodies hunched a large, reptilian figure – Xeelee’s several-time nemeses, Corgrax. Armed with a blaster carbine, the Trandoshan seemed to be padding down the pockets of the dead soldiers. Skykin let go of Xeelee’s hand and cautiously drew a blaster pistol from his hip-holster holster, taking several steps towards the carnage. Disturbed, Corgrax quick drew up his weapon and hissed.
“
Youssss,” he snarled. “
Where are youssss going? Running from the battle? Smellssss like cowardicccce.” Skykin reached behind with his free hand, guiding Xeelee to move behind him.
“
That’s strange coming from you, considering the situation. Did you kill those men yourself?” Skykin asked, gripping his blaster firmly, “
Or were they already dead before you started looting their bodies?” Corgrax hissed again, taking several slow steps forward, keeping his carbine trained on Skykin.
“
Corgrax doessss not anssswer to coward-aaaaah!” A single blast bolt lit up the dim corridor. Xeelee jumped. Corgrax stood still for a moment, as if frozen. His body rigid, the Trandoshan’s death-rattle was short and sweet, ending before he slumped on the floor, the blast wound in his chest still smoking.
“
Always hated that one,” Skykin said, holstering his blaster and taking Xeelee by the hand once more. They hurried by the corpses, Xeelee catching a glimpse of Corgrax’s dead, reptilian eyes in the darkness. A few more twist and turns and they emerged on one of the old, disused landing pads at the back of the base. However, it seemed it was no longer as disused as it had once been; the hangar door was open, a sleek black and grey shuttle with its loading ramp down took up most of the pad, and several Sith troopers, clad in reflective copper armour stood guard. Skykin gripped Xeelee’s hand tighter and pulled him along. The troopers stood to attention but made no move to do anything. From inside the shuttle, a faint, slow clapping sound began, getting louder. From the loading ramp, a man emerged, his footsteps echoing around the hangar. He was a lithe man, tall, dressed in a grey Sith uniform with a insignia on his breast marking him as a highly-ranked officer.
What is he? Xeelee wondered; he had never seen another of the man’s species before. The officer looked human, but his dark-blue skin and fiery-red eyes denoted him as some sort of alien unknown to Xeelee. The man both frightened and fascinated at the same time. At the bottom of the ramp, the officer stopped clapping his hands and spoke, his voice mocking and superior in tone.
“
Lieutenant Ardrott. You seem to have completed your first mission – your first sanctioned mission that is,” the man smiled a false smile. “
The shield went down on time and our forces quickly took the base. Our troops are mopping up the last survivors as we speak. I suppose congratulations are in order.” Skykin said nothing, just straightened his back and looked forward, staring at nothing in particular. The officer started to stride towards them. “
Do you realise there is something attached to you?” The officer motioned towards Xeelee, looking down with disdain.
“
Yes sir, this boy was being used as a runner,” Skykin replied in a military manner Xeelee had not heard him use before. “
He’s a non-combatant, I brought him here to safety to-“
“
Then you are an even bigger fool that I took you for when we dropped you off on this rock of a planet,” the blue-skinned officer sneered. “
You may be a war hero in the Dromund Kas training camps, but to me you a just a stupid, disobedient fool. This thing He has seen your face, he knows your name and most importantly, he has seen me.” The man looked down to Xeelee and then back to Skykin, his piercing features full of contempt. “
Get rid of it.”
“
Major Volt, the boy won’t be a prob-,” Skykin protested.
“
Whether the boy will become a problem or not is my decision, not yours. Bringing it here was a waste of time. Get rid of it, Lieutenant, or I will and trust me, it will not be...pleasant.”
“
I’m sorry, Xee,” Skykin said, drawing his blaster. Xeelee looked up to him in horror, tears streaming from his eyes.
“
P-p-please, I won’t t-t-t-t-tell anyone, I-“
“
I’m sorry.” Skykin raised his blaster, lightly pressed the barrel against Xeelee’s head. The blaster was cold, its barrel stinging the bruise from earlier. The day’s events flashed in Xeelee’s mind’s eye; fetching breakfast, running into the Trandoshan mercenary, the lookout tower, the explosions, the running, Corgrax’s demise and now this landing pad, everything was a blur. Xeelee tried to lift his legs, tried to make a break for it, but found his feet were stuck to the floor, immobilised by fear.
“
Please?” his voice was breaking, barely a squeak.
“
I’m so sorry.” Skykin pressed the blaster harder, tightened his finger round the trigger and squeezed. Xeelee crumpled to the floor.
“
Next time, less drama. Come on,” Major Volt started, “
we have more deadlines to meet.”
*****
I’m so sorry.
I woke in my small, box-room, the bed sheet dripping with sweat. Xeelee’s big, black Nautolan eyes, streaked with tears were prominent in my mind. The same dream again. Back then, I was headstrong, young, full of a desire to succeed and impress. Several meaningless promotions later, I would look down on the pile of bodies I was standing on and vomit at the thought of my own depravity.
I shouldn’t have brought him with me. I knew what Volt was like. If I had left Xeelee to his own devices, would be still be alive? The kid could sure run, but what chance did he have against that platoon? Maybe I should have turned the gun on Volt? But then what?
My mind ran in circles for a while, over and over again as it had done a million times before. I got up, kicking off the covers. Outside, the artificial lights of the city streaked in through the blinds, the noise of a millions speeders vibrated through the thin walls.
Coruscant – I hated this place.
I pulled on some casual gear, considered my blaster – decided against it; it would be taken off me anyway. I left the apartment and walked down the hall, hit the button on the elevator. Waiting, I thought of Xeelee again. It would do no good; I needed a clear head tonight, needed to be focused on my goal. Now was not the time to be dragging up old memories, I told myself. I knew I wouldn’t listen.
Tue May 24, 2011 5:56 am by 
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