Fandom The End Of The Force IC

[ThatGuyWithSouvlaki]

EPISODE IV

THE END OF THE FORCE

It is a period of civil war.
Rebel spaceships, striking
from a hidden base, have won
their first victory against
the evil Galactic Empire.

During the battle, Rebel
spies managed to steal secret
plans to the Empire's
ultimate weapon, the DEATH
STAR, an armored space
station with enough power
to destroy an entire planet.

However damaged and
Pursued by Imperial Agents.
The ship containing the plans
Crashes on the Planet Tattoine.
The plans falling with the HUTT CARTEL,
Who aim to sell it to the highest bidder.​

 

[RikuXIII]

Tethra sat at the controls of the Sky-Walker as it stayed in orbit around Naboo. Her glowing eyes gazed at the inert Sith Holocron that sat in the empty seat ahead of her in the HWK’s eclectic seating system. Despite everything she tried, she could not activate it. And yet she felt like it was reaching out to her. Trying to lead her. She was no fool. She knew the reputation of the Sith as destructive, both to others and to self. But it felt like the call she had felt before, so long ago...
Shaking her head, Tethra tore her eyes away from the Holocron and studied her displays. She had come here due to a Sith sighting from before the Clone Wars, but his body and possessions were never officially recovered. It was a dead end on the Sith, like many before. She was growing frustrated with these failures. She was trying to track them down, but so few threads remained. Even the old worlds reported to be Sith Worlds provided no insight in how to activate the Holocron.
“Perhaps I am thinking of this the wrong way.” She thought, her hands lightly caressing the controls to her ship. “Maybe the way forward is something only the Force can show me?”
Even sense the return of her Third Sight, she hadn’t tried to navigate through hyperspace. But what if trusting the Third Sight could lead her to the next step in her journey? Maybe that call would appear again? Piloting her way away from Naboo, Tethra opened her mind to the Force, let its power flow through her and guide her hands. She felt the spark of something. Not what she had felt before, but something...odd. Taking a deep breath, she keyed on her hyperdrive and entered hyperspace to follow the sensation.

 

[Grim Wraithe Stjerna]

Chuka sat down heavily in the well worn control chair, reclining and kicking his booted feet onto the console, letting out a tired sigh. The last acquisition had been a thoroughly annoying pursuit, for a decent price, but to put a finer edge on the whole ordeal the Imperial Representative assigned to the station had been even more cumbersome then was needed. Over the course of his career Chuka had filled out dozens of B23-1-14 permits correctly, but with this ONE Imp, he had it rejected four times before he had been paid in full. Paperwork was not his strong suit, he hated it. But if it meant getting the most credits possible he would fill it out.

His fingers idly walking his bes'bev, forged from beskar iron, it was a combination of musical instrument and melee weapon. He had come very close to using it on the station to help the Imp see things his way by stabbing it into those very condescending eyes. But by a monumental amount of restraint, the Mando'ade left without having to clean his flute. His ship was in a holding pattern just outside the defense grid of Anthan Prime Orbital Dockyard, having not like any of the offered bounties in this sector, and being in the black enough to be picky he decided to see what would be available in a different sector.

"The Exchange....." The flute rolled smoothly from one finger to the next without a sound. "Black Sun perhaps?" Still the flute moved with a fluid grace across his gloved fingers as if it were a living thing. Chuka had the appropriate legal permits to Hunt in Imperial space, but other employers often had more lucrative offers. "The Hutts...." His bes'bev lightly struck the edge of the chair, emitting a hollow metallic sound. The corner of his mouth curled up in a predatory fashion. "The Hutts it is then. And the worm that pays the highest is on Tattooine." Reaching across the cockpit he entered the destination into the Nav and let the computer take care of the rest and jump into hyperspace.

 

[Grim Wraithe Stjerna]

A faint pulsed series of chirps let Chuka know that the was about to exit hyperspace. The Bounty Hunter leaned back in his chair and gave along yawn and stretch. The rotating blue shifted background star light that formed the tunnel through hyperspace quickly shifted to infinitely long starlines which rapidly shortened and became the pin pricks in the black void of space. The cool dark of space slowly changed to that of the arid and abhorrently bright surface of Tattooine.

A grimace played across his visage as his helmet slipped onto his head with a comfortable snugness. The visor automatically tinting to compensate for the binary light bombarding the system. With a few movements the ship was set to autopilot to land in an out of the way hangar in Mos Espa. With that accomplished Chuka moved to check on any open, easy to grab and lucrative acquisitions, on the bounty listings for the area. As the ship jostled onto the landing pad, the Mando'ade pulled a datapad from the terminal with the information needed to collect the acquisitions.

Stepping out into the now covered landing pad, he could hear the reverberations of the hatch as it locked and the whine of the hydraulics as they pressurized. His right hand causally and comfortably rested on the pistol at his side as he slowly took in surroundings. The bay was mostly empty, save a few crates and a mouse droid. Sometimes the dockmaster would be waiting to collect her 'docking fee' but just as often she would not be there when he landed so that was not wholly unusual. As he watched down the ramp his gaze shifted to look under his ship and to the back end of the bay.