FIC: That Guy Strikes Back, Part 1 of 2 (PG-13)

[misdreya]

TO: nugatorytm
FROM:tikistitch

Title: That Guy Strikes Back, Part 1 of 2
Author: ?
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Will young Toki Wartooth be accepted into the Jedi Order? Or will he be forced to remain forever on his boring crappy home planet, repairing cranky mining droids and drinking blue milk? This fic is set in the Star Wars universe, between the time of Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, and the original Star Wars: A New Hope (which some of you kiddies might also know as Episode IV).
Characters/Pairings: Dethklok ensemble; sorta S/T if you squint, hint of C/P, whiff of M/K.
Disclaimer: Apologies are owed, as usual, to Brendon Small and the Cartoon Network, for theft of characters; to Lucasfilm Limited, for pilfering an entire universe and settings; and lastly, to you, the reader, for bearing with this nonsense.
Warnings: Cursing, ridiculous side of the Force.
Notes: If you are one of those legendary folks who has never seen any of the Star Wars films: seriously, what the fuck? Beta by the incomparable zsomeone.



Part 1 of 2

It is a brutal time in the universe. For thousands of years, Jedi knights preserved peace in the galaxy by swinging around awesome cool lightsabers and being all badass and shit. But then the Empire, led by the Emperor and his apprentice, Darth Vader, tried to wipe all of the Jedi, which was totally lame and unmetal.

But some few Jedi knights managed to escape the slaughter. The Emperor has set soldiers of fortune to hunt down these survivors and kill them. The Emperor is kind of a douchebag.

Meanwhile, on the obscure Outer Rim planet of Belphegor, young Toki Wartooth awaits, working on his uncle's spice mine. He is unaware that DESTINY, in the form of some really massively incompetent Jedi, is about to come a-knocking.

Toki Wartooth lay on his back and gazed up at the infinite universe: flecks of yellow painted on an aubergine sky. He reached up a hand, and grasped at nothing.

So fucking far away.

Seeing the stars from this cursed planet, Belphegor, took more than a little patience: the binary suns around which this half-dead ball of clay rotated made twilight and dawn drag on for eternity. These phases between night and day were more fleeting in other solar systems. Or so Toki had heard: he had never been offworld. Uncle's star freighter, parked in the hangar, had been gathering rust since he could remember. And here he was, as usual, caked in dust and sweat after a day tinkering with cranky and recalcitrant droids, dreaming about the stars.

Belphegor itself was a cold, dusty place. At one point, many millennia ago, the planet had housed abundant native animals and plant life. That was before aggressive spice mining had ruined the land, turning fertile fields to silent plains of rock. A few animals still remained here: mostly tough and vile-tempered beasts. His uncle and aunt barely eked out a living, sifting the scraps from depleted spice veins it wasn't worthwhile for the bigger enterprises to bother with.

He heard the gentle click: one of the mining droids cycling off to cool down. He smiled faintly: his repairs had evidently worked. A few more weeks work from the poor, badly outmoded things. This rinky-dink family mining operation, held together with electrician's tape and bailing wire and probably the rust itself. The Empire would come and put them out of business soon enough. These small operations were doomed, even though Uncle would never admit it. He was a proud bastard.

And Toki, he was just a bastard.

He glanced at his watch and was quite suddenly sitting up, now sweating not from exertion but anxiety. Fuck! He had wool-gathered far longer than expected, and now Uncle would tan his hide. Taking one last frantic look around the site to make sure nothing had ground a gear or blown a motivator, he leapt into his ancient landspeeder. It took a couple of tries to get the motor to turn over - stupid piece of shit - he would have to try another tune-up whenever Uncle gave him a moment. And off he sped, towards home.

He soon approached the Y junction: would it be the low road or the high road tonight? He took almost no time at all in deciding a short cut was in order. The low road, around the dead salt lake, was surer but slower. But the high road, on the other hand.... Despite his current predicament Toki found a grin pasted on his face. Before men had choked this planet's environment, rivers had run freely and forests grew green. He was now heading towards an ancient forest, so old the trees had turned to gnarled stumps and the stumps to stones of quartz. For a normal pilot, going through the forest was a hazard. For someone like Toki though it was a breakneck carnival ride.

As the tall forest approached, he cleared his mind. Though only eighteen standard years (on his last birthday, not that they'd celebrated) Toki had always been one of the best pilots in town, or any of the surrounding towns. If he calmed himself he could see two, three, ten steps ahead, where he was before he was even there.

And there he was, right over the first stump, around the snag, and then over a pair of ancient fallen logs, trees that hadn't breathed real air for forgotten generations. But he was already many meters ahead, adjusting the pitch and yaw, steering up and down and over and even under. Somewhere he knew he shouldn't, not with Uncle's speeder, but his foot pressed the accelerator and the hazards only came faster, his escapes, narrower. Over, under, up and down. There was nothing he couldn't do, nowhere he couldn't go. He was riding through the stars, getting off this rock....

And there it was, the other side ... almost there, just a turn and a duck and....

It was the last stump, the very last goddamn stump. And the fucked up part was, he knew he was going to hit it and was just going too fast to do a damned thing but hold on when it creased a tail fin. He held on, his guidance now damaged, while the craft did a complete 360 that turned to a 720 and then the spinning slowed and slowed, and he was slowing down and down and coming to earth and finally stopped.

The world had stopped spinning, not so much his own head. He leapt out anyway and stumbled around, trying to view the damaged tail fin. He sighed in relief: he would be OK. He could pound out the worst of it right here, enough to get himself home. And the with luck, he'd be able to polish it out tomorrow morning before Uncle spotted it. Another chore.

He shook his head and went to open his tool kit, and that was when he became aware of the noise. Vehicle approaching. Maybe a speeder bike? He didn't recognize the sound of the engine anyway. Strangers appearing out here could mean several things, none of them good. He grabbed the biggest, heaviest hydrospanner and gripped it tightly, hugging it to his body as he turned. He was a skinny kid, but they sure as hell weren't going to take him without a fight.

It was a speeder bike - a big one. The biggest one he had ever seen, in fact. And it had not one, but two sidecars, something he had never seen before.

The driver stomped on the brakes and had leapt off nearly before the thing had come to a halt. “Hey, kid!” he called. “THAT WAS AWESOME!”

Toki clutched the hydrospanner tighter and looked up, fascinated, at the being in front of him. He looked more or less humanoid, but even in the dim running lights of his speeder, Toki could tell he was not human. Crocodoid of some kind, he guessed. The skin had a greenish tint to it, and the wily green eyes had slit-like irises, which seemed lit from behind.

“Who- Who ams you?” Toki demanded, his voice disobediently cracking.

“I'm Nathan!” said the alien, grinning a large, not terribly reassuring grin of white, pointed teeth. “And my pal is Skwisgaar. Hey, say hi, Skwisgaar!”

His passenger had dismounted from the sidecar. Toki stifled a gasp. Though probably a human, Skwisgaar seemed as impressive in his way as Nathan, tall like the Crocodoid, but more slender, with an utterly amazing, graceful dancer's posture. He stared down his aquiline nose at Toki, sky blue eyes narrowing. “Ja, who ams dis guy?”

Toki's grip on the hydrospanner loosened a fraction. An outer rim accent! Maybe these guys were OK? “I ams Toki,” he choked.

“Toki, dude!” said Nathan. “You are an amazing fucking pilot! Didn't I fucking say that to you, Skwis? I was like, THAT GUY, he's fucking amazing and shit, because I've never seem somebody go and do stuff and things like I've seen that guy doing!”

“Reallies?” asked Toki, who was actually still staring at Skwisgaar. For his part, the tall man, with a toss of his luxuriant blond hair, looked away, as if already bored with Toki.

“Yeah, really, like I said, I told Skwisgaar, THAT DUDE MUST BE A STAR PILOT, because the way he pilots that speeder, he is one badass dude, isn't that what I told you Skwisgaar?”

“Ja,” allowed Skwisgaar, who seemed to be off somewhere else. “Maybes-” he began. He looked around at Toki. “Maybe he ams has da starship?”

Toki felt pinned down by those striking blue eyes. “My uncle has one,” Toki told them eagerly. “But-”

“Yeah, I bet you do kid!” said Nathan! “And I bet you could pilot it all over the place. I mean, like outrunning the Empire, you know, if they happened to be chasing us? And stuff like that.”

“You ams has to ask my uncle,” said Toki, knowing already what his uncle would say about a stranger and an alien - an alien! - who wanted to use the star freighter. “Uh, what you ams says you guys do?”

“Wellllll,” said Nathan, who was now wrapping a big arm around Toki's thin shoulders. “It's kind of a secret. Can you keep a secret? You look like a man who can keep a secret, doesn't he, Skwisgaar?”

Toki nodded, a bit confused.

“We're JEDI KNIGHTS!”

Toki was suddenly crouching on the ground, scrambling to retrieve the hydrospanner he had just let slip from his grip. It had fallen with a rather embarrassing clatter.

“Nat'ans...” warned Skwisgaar.

“You ams.... You ams da JEDI?” asked Toki in an excited whisper. Suddenly, worlds had opened up. Jedi! He had never in his life heard of a single Jedi knight even venturing onto his Force-forsaken planet, much less two of them, together, right here, in the shiny green flesh.

“And, we're RECRUITING!” Nathan confided as he pulled Toki back up by the collar. “Yeah. For the JEDI ACADEMY. Because we wanna get young Jedi to train and do Jedi stuff, with lightsabers and all that shit. And like I told Skwisgaar, hey, THAT GUY! I bet THAT GUY is STRONG IN THE FORCE!” Nathan flashed another bright pointy crocodile grin. Toki cast a worried glance over to Skwisgaar. It sounded almost too good to be true.

“Nat'ans,” Skwisgaar began again.

“C'mon, Skwis,” said Nathan. “What we'll do is, we'll go, and we'll talk to this dude's uncle about recruiting him and stuff....”

“And maybes whether dey ams using dat starship?” asked Skwisgaar, blond brows knitted.

“Yeah, and that too!” agreed Nathan. “Whaddya think, Toki dude? You wanna come and learn the ways of the Force and shit like that?”

Toki was trying to jump start his mind. It had ceased working at the phrase “Jedi knight,” and still hadn't quite come back. “Uhhhhh,” he said lamely. “I gots to repairs da tails fin, so I can drive home?”

Skwisgaar walked around and gave the tailfin a look. “Pffft. Maybe you ams helps him, Nat'ans?”

“Sure, kid! Where you keep your HAMMER!”

This was not going well.

Despite the late hour, or perhaps because of it, Uncle had been out waiting when they arrived at the homestead, perhaps alerted by the sound of the unfamiliar speeder bike. His keen eye had immediately picked the hastily repaired tailfin on the landspeeder.

“You ams been wastings da times again? When you should be working?” Uncle Aslaug had thundered, Aunt Anja staring stoically over his shoulder.

“Dey ams da Jedi, Uncle!” Toki had protested.

“Jedi?” said Uncle, turning to the two men, one with a pointy-toothed smile, one with an imperious sneer. And then Uncle got very quiet, which was never good.

“Go insides, Toki,” Uncle hissed.

“But Uncle, dey ams-”

“Now, boy!” said Uncle, staring him down.

And then the wide universe, the pretty stars that had seemed so finally near his grasp, the universe he had marveled at, all the ride home, suddenly so near, never so near - it all came crashing, smashing down on him, into his chest, choking him as he ran inside, eyes already streaked with tears, and threw himself down on the bed in his small room. He couldn't hear all of the conversation, just enough of them: never! He would never leave. He'd be stuck here, tied down to earth, eking two or three more days of life out of rusty tin can robots so they could scrape the leavings of long-exhausted veins of spice from the ruined planet.

He balled his fists, grabbing down the frayed stuffed animal toy he'd had since he was a kid. “You ams my only damned friend, Deddy,” he grumbled to the empty button eyes. He looked out his window at the night sky, the stars now seeming to mock him, hearing the ticks of the Jedi's speeder bike, parked just outside his window, as the big engine cooled.

The Jedi's speeder bike.

Holding Deddy securely in the crook of his arm, he cautiously approached the window. Nathan had parked the bike outside, around the side of the house and just out of sight of the front porch.

He pressed his face to the window, looking and listening. He still heard the quarrel. “Jedi scums! You ams wants to bring da Empires? TO MY HOUSE?” Aslaug was wailing.

Toki looked carefully, but no one was watching.

He grinned at Deddy.

“Man that SUCKED!”

“Nat'ans, I tells you, dey not buys dis Jedi stories.”

“Well, why the hell not?” groused Nathan, black hair whipping in the wind, pupils narrowed to black slits in irritation. “We are obviously STRONG IN THE FORCE!”

“Pffft. Deir starship, it ams mostly da rusts anyways,” Skwisgaar told him. “I ams tooks a looks while you ams shoutsing at da guy.”

“Yeah, I didn't like THAT GUY,” Nathan growled, pointed teeth showing. “It's too bad about that kid, because I think he would have been better off away from that old fucker.”

“Nat'ans, dat ams somet'ing I gots to talks to you abouts!” Skwisgaar grumbled.

“I ams all rights! I ams comes wit' yous!” chriped Toki. The speeder bike whined as Nathan suddenly veered off the road in surprise at the boy who had just popped up in his empty side car.

“WOWEE!” laughed Toki as Nathan, with some effort, righted the bike and brought it back to the dusty roadway.

“Aw, fucksing fucks!” wailed Skwisgaar.

“Whoa,” said Nathan, looking at Toki. “You gotta stop doing stuff like that, kid, that's distracting!”

“I ams comes wit' you! I ams bes da Jedi!” Toki told him.

“Nat'ans! You ams gots to tells him, or I ams!” said Skwisgaar, crossing his arms and scowling.

“Yeah, all right sure,” sighed Nathan. “I'll pull up at that cafe ahead. I think I'm gonna need a drink.”

Toki looked between the two men, confused, but he decided that Jedi must have curious ways, so held his tongue until Nathan had stopped the speeder bike, and they all filed out to a dusty, nearly deserted roadside cafe. It was a pretty typical setup: some kind of meat (probably bantha, or at least you hoped it was bantha, and not womp rat, or worse) roasting on the grill; a scattering of battered tables and chairs, and then a small, crudely-constructed bar at the very back.

Toki smelled the cooking meat and felt the empty place in his belly, having of course missed dinner that night. He rubbed his stomach and hoped that being a Jedi apprentice included meals. The only other beings at the place were a quiet clump of stormtroopers and Imperial officers at one corner, and the bartender.

Despite his hunger, Toki spared a second glance at the bartender. He wasn't familiar with the species, but the guy had head tentacles which were evidently prehensile, as he was currently polishing a glass with one pair, smoking something (it smelled vaguely of spice, but Toki couldn't determine any more) and ringing up the ancient cash register with another. He was using his actual hands to draw beers, which Skwisgaar, up at the bar, had just ordered for them.

Three beers, Toki noticed, licking his lips. Well, beer was sort of food, right?

“Nat'ans,” said Toki, who was wondering about stuff to eat.

“So, here's what I heard, kid,” said Nathan, easing his bulk into a chair at the table farthest from the Empire and taking a big gulp of the amber liquid Skwisgaar had just plonked in front of him. “So, there was this Jedi, and he was all strong in the force and shit, and he was in love with this really cute chick, Panda Bear, or something, but she was gonna die, or some weird shit, so he all TURNED TO THE DARK SIDE, and then they went and killed all the Jedi dudes, and some ladies too, and burned the temple, and killed all those dudes. So, there's no more Jedi, and no more temple, and we're being hunted down and it's TOTALLY LAME AND NOT METAL.”

Toki blinked and wiped foam from his upper lip. Beer was good.

“Anyway, that's what I heard,” explained Nathan.

Toki looked up at Nathan curiously. “Dere ams no more Jedi temples?”

“Dat is what we ams sayings,” sighed Skwisgaar.

“But den how you ams gonna train me in da Jedi way?” asked Toki, taking another swig.

“Uh, we gotta call fer yoo doods. All o' yoo.” Toki peered up at the funny tentacled bartender, who was now poking an appendage at Nathan.

“Call? For us?” asked Nathan, looking at Skwisgaar.

“Yeh. All yoo doods,” repeated the bartender. “Like, real important an' stuff. Behind da bar,” he told them, gesturing with several reddish tentacles.

Skwisgaar shrugged. “Ja, OK, I ams plays.” He got up to follow the bartender back. Nathan guzzled his beer and followed, and Toki pattered after them.

“Okee, here yoo go,” said the bartender, setting out a transmitter. “Innerspace transmission. Really important.”

And so saying, he suddenly ducked down behind the bar.

“Huh, weird octo-dude,” muttered Nathan, poking at the transmitter. “Hello? Hello?”

There was the sound of an approaching speeder.

“Hello?” Nathan repeated.

“Uh, Nat'ans,” said Skwisgaar, poking Nathan in the back. And then Skwisgaar too ducked down.

“Hello?” Nathan asked the transmitter one more time. “There's nobody- Oh, shit!” And then Nathan was down too, tackling Toki as he went. “Dumb conversation anyway,” he muttered.

The landspeeder came to a sudden halt just opposite where the stormtroopers and Imperial officers were gathered drinking. Some of the Imperials actually spared a bored glance at the speeder. But all the Empire's finest were quickly blasted to oblivion by several masked beings manning blaster rifles in the speeder.

The speeder then hurled away.

“Holy craps!” said Skwisgaar, peeping up over the bar.

“Yeh,” commented the bartender, regarding the pile of bodies. “A lotta Imperial poodoo t' clean up.”

“Wait,” said Nathan, his slitted eyes open wide. “Dude, are you in THE REBELLION?”

“Shhhhhhhhhhhh!” warned the bartender, holding a tentacle in front of his mouth.

“Dude,” Nathan whispered, in a not particularly soft whisper, “Are you in THE REBELLION?”

“Yeh. Mebbe,” allowed the bartender.

“We ams Jedi,” said Skwisgaar.

“Holy poodoo. Really?” said the bartender, somewhat skeptically.

“Yeah, and we totally CRASH LANDED on this piece of shit planet and we need to get off,” Nathan explained.

“I might know a dood,” said the bartender. “Ah'm Pickles, da bardentah, by da way.”

“I'm Nathan, and this is Skwisgaar, and Toki, our JEDI APPRENTICE.”

“Dey ams calls dem Padawan,” Skwisgaar sighed.

“Yeah, whatever,” said Nathan.

Toki found he was grinning ear to ear to be referred to as anything at all.

“Yoo doods mebbe help me dispose o' da mess, and den we'll go see my dood tomorrow. He lives out by da seaside.”

“Oh, the seaside! The beach is AWESOME!” said Nathan approviingly, to a very puzzled look from Pickles the bartender.

Pickles had readily agreed to let Toki pilot his landspeeder. It was old, but not anywhere near as old as the one Toki was used to driving, and it was amazing. Without thinking about it too much, he had gotten out a little ahead of Nathan and Skwisgaar, who rode on Nathan's large speeder bike.

“Hey, yer pretty gud at this t'ing. Is this a Jedi skill or somthin'?” inquired Pickles amiably. The bartender appeared very easygoing, which was quickly explained when he broke out another of his special cigarettes.

“I ams just mets dose guys, actuallies,” Toki explained, coughing slightly at the smoke. “I ams works in da spice mines.”

“Whoa, dood!” said Pickles, who, for the first time in their brief acquaintanship, actually looked excited. “Yoo mine SPICE?”

“I ams works for my uncle.”

“Why would yoo wanna leave dat?”

Toki frowned at Pickles. “To ams leaves da planets? Sees da univoise?”

“Yeah, da yooniverse,” muttered Pickles, smoke clutched in a tentacle. “I been dere. Ain't all it's cracked up to be. Turn here, dat way!” he said, pointing a couple of red tentacles up to the right.

Toki turned off into a narrow canyon. They hadn't gone far, however, when they reached a dead end.

“I t'ought you ams knows da way?” asked Toki as they stopped the speeder at the sheer rock wall that ended the canyon and got out to take a look.

“Well, mebbe, it's been a while. Dis dood don't like visitors dat much,” mused Pickles, knocking on the blank rock wall with a tentacle.

There was an unholy roar as Nathan and Skwisgaar pulled up behind them, the already loud speeder bike echoing against the narrow canyon walls.

“Where the FUCK are we?” demanded Nathan as he too leapt off his bike.

“I t'ink we zigged when we shoulda zagged,” confessed Pickles. “Hey, is dat yer bike?” he asked, hearing yet another unholy roar.

“No, dude, I turned it off...” Nathan began, but then stopped as suddenly all of them became aware of a rather large shadow cast against the rock wall.

“Gundark!” shouted Pickles as the gigantic hairy beast growled menacingly. “Doodes, git out yer lightsaber t'ings!”

“Uhhhhhhh,” said Nathan.

“We ain't got lightsabers!” supplied Skwisgaar.

“WUT TH' FECK ARE JEDI DOIN' WIT'OUT LIGHTSABERS?” wailed Pickles.

“Uh, ams kind of lost it,” confessed Skwisgaar.

“How do yoo lose yer feckin' lightsaber?” asked Pickles.

“Actuallys, ams da interestings stories....” said Skwisgaar.

“Everybody, RUUUUUUUUUUN!” bellowed Nathan. The group scattered just as the huge, four-armed beast struck out one tremendous clawed hand at them, bringing down a good chunk of canyon wall as it did. Since the monster had boxed them in to the end of the canyon, opportunities for shelter were few. Toki scrambled into a shallow dimple in the canyon wall behind a rock outcropping, where he struggled to keep his breathing under control.

The Gundark paused, twitching its pointed ears, seeming to decide which member of the party would make the best canape. Then without warning, it turned, and struck out one set of clawed hands at the now tiny-seeming pile of rocks that was sheltering Toki. He gasped and covered his head as he felt the claws strike within inches of him. When he opened his eyes, they were staring directly into the fiendishly grinning face of a 12 foot monster. He blinked and cursed to himself. Instead of seeing the universe, he was going to see the inside of a Gundark. This adventure fucking sucked.

Toki's survival instinct took over, and he scooped up some sand to hurl into the monster's eye, temporarily blinding it. He found himself scrambling out of his now ruined hiding place, just centimeters in front of a clawed hand. He began climbing up the sheer rock wall of the canyon, a process that was impeded both by the lack of handholds, and by the Gundark sending claws furiously into the wall, bringing down parts of it as it struck.

He grasped out: another hand hold was within his grasp. He reached out, getting a finger, and then two, and then his hand, and then he stepped off and was hanging, grateful it had taken his weight.

But then the Gundark pounded the canyon wall one more time and the handhold crumbled, taking a madly flailing Toki right with it. He came to rest, bruised and battered, at the floor of the canyon. He saw a horrible clawed hand about to strike, and raised one pathetic arm over his face.

Suddenly a tremendous growl echoed up and down the canyon. The Gundark froze, and then was on its feet, looking left and right. It had been the mating call of a lady Gundark, but there were no females in sight.

What was in sight was a hooded figure, standing and evidently attempting to stare down the Gundark. The Gundark howled with betrayal, and lunged towards the figure. But the hooded being suddenly thrust out one hand, in a “stop” gesture, and the huge beast was slammed full force into the canyon wall. Stunned, it got to its feet, shaking its head.

The hooded figure was now making a pulling gesture with both hands. There was a sharp crack. The Gundark looked up just in time to see a giant limestone stalactite come loose from the canyon wall above, and come plunging down, directly into the Gundark's surprised face.

The Gundark stumbled exactly one step, then collapsed with an earth-shaking slam and then lay dead in a pool of its own sticky blood.

Toki, who had been watching the entire fight in stunned silence, suddenly felt himself being pulled up by the collar.

“Come on, kid,” said the hooded figure. “We've got to get outta here.”

“CHARLIE!” hailed Pickles, who had just come out of hiding.

The man flipped back his hood, to reveal an unimpressive looking human man. He was of indeterminate age, and had light brown hair gathered neatly in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. There was a thin red scar running down his cheek. He wore thick-looking eyeglasses, though which he glared at Pickles.

“Pickles?” he asked as he was abruptly swept into a many-tentacled embrace.

“Dooooo! Yoo rescooed us!”

Pickles was awkwardly pushed back. “Uh. What the fuck are you doing all the way out here, Pickles?”

“Dooood! I gaht some doods who wanna meet yoo! Dey're JEDI too!” explained Pickles, waving several tentacles in the direction of an oddly abashed looking Nathan and Skwisgaar.

“YOU TWO!” raged the hooded man.

“Uh. Hey. Charles,” said Nathan.

“Master Charles,” said Skwisgaar, giving a formal little bow.

“Not you again!” said Charles, rubbing his forehead. “And you've got a kid with you this time? What the fuck do you think you're doing out here, Skwisgaar?”

“Uh. Yoo doods know each udder?” asked Pickles, scratching his head with a tentacle.

“Uhhhhhh,” explained Nathan.

“Let's..... Let's just get back to my place, where it's safe, and discuss this,” said Charles who was already stalking towards Pickles' speeder. Pickles hurried after him, jumped in the drivers seat, and took off.

“Come on, dudes,” said Nathan, urging Toki and Skwisgaar to the speeder bike.

“The beach here FUCKING SUCKS!” said Nathan, regarding the wasteland visible through the living room window of Charles' small house. Millennia ago, it had been an ocean.

“Ouchie!” said Toki, who was sitting in the corner, letting Pickles bandage the scratches he had received trying to escape the Gundark.

“Sahry, kiddo,” said Pickles, expertly holding out a bandage between two head tentacles and cutting it with a third tentacle.

“I ask again, what do you guys think you're doing?” demanded Charles, who had just brought out a small box. “And what the fuck did you do with your lightsaber this time, Skwisgaar?”

“It ams kinda skankly-plated,” sighed Skwisgaar, who crowded near the box to look over the lightsabers neatly spread out on the lining.

“It's always 'complicated,'” grumbled Charles. “And Nathan, you're not even a real Jedi anyway!” he scolded as Nathan greedily stuck his hand in the box and came up with a saber.

“Awwww, c'mon Charles!”

“Is that your lightsaber, Nathan? Does that belong to you?” fretted Charles.

“This stuff is easy!” Nathan scoffed. “You just press the button and the blade comes out THERE!” he demonstrated, his slitted eyes narrowing when no blade emerged from the saber handle. He sniffed, and looked in back of him, where the blade in the saber, which he had been holding backwards, stuck through one of Charles' lamps. “Uhhhhh. I can pay for that.”

Charles wiggled a finger, and the blade suddenly flew out of Nathan's grasp and back to Charles, who sighed heavily. “And that was a good lamp,” he grumbled. “Here, try this one, Skwisgaar,” he sighed, handing it off to Skwisgaar. “And how did you two end up on THIS planet anyways?”

“We was kinds of snoggling,” explained Skwisgaar.

“We were smuggling SPICE and got stopped by the fucking IMPERIALS. Empire douchebags,” said Nathan.

“You two were smuggling spice onto a spice-mining planet?” asked Charles, who seemed quite exasperated.

“Uh, yeah!” agreed Nathan with a pointy-toothed grin. “Hey, I bet nobody else ever thought of something like that!”

“Huh. Spice, dat's cool!” opined Pickles. “Hey, kid, I ain't gonna molest ya!” he said, waving some tentacles. Toki angrily smoothed down his shirt, which Pickles had been trying to pull up.

“And the kid? What the fuck are you guys planning for him?” asked Charles.

“I gots a name!” said Toki, brushing off Pickles' tentacles. “I ams Toki!”

“Look, Toki,” said Charles.

“But CHARLES!” whined Nathan. “The kid is FORCE SENSITIVE! He can drive like a motherfucker!”

“Driving like an idiot does not make you a Jedi,” Charles insisted. “Skwisgaar, you at least should know that! You need to take him back to his parents!”

“Ams not got parents!” said Toki.

“Then, wherever the hell you picked him up.”

“Dood, you gahta stand still so I kin bandage dat cut,” Pickles told Toki.

“I wanna be trained as da Jedi!” Toki insisted.

“Toki,” said Pickles, pulling at his bloody shirt.

Charles rolled his eyes and approached Toki. He waved his hand in front of the boy. “You will let Pickles fix you up,” he said. Toki's eyes glazed over, and Pickles finally pulled his shirt up in the back.

“Oh. Shit,” said Pickles, lifting Toki's shirt. He looked up at Charles, who frowned. The boy's back was a network of scars, some very old. Some very recent.

And some that were barely healed. Charles and Pickles stared in concerned silence.

“I ams not goes back to my Uncles! And dat ams final!” yelled Toki, who had seemingly just awakened from the Force trance. He rose and stormed out of the house. He didn't storm very far, however, as the pathway dead ended on a cliff overlooking what used to be a grand ocean. Another goddamn dead end, he fumed, wiping a tear as he looked up to the sky. The twin suns hung at the horizon, mocking him. So near, and yet so far away.

“My home. It was a binary system too.”

Toki started. He hadn't heard Master Charles come walking up behind him. “Why ams you here, and not back dere, at your home, den?” asked Toki, stubbornly keeping his back to Charles.

Charles shrugged. “Toki, about the scars on your back-”

“I ams not wants to talk about dat!”

“OK.”

“I ams wants to be trained as da Jedi! And get off dis fucksing crap planets!”

“All right,” said Charles. “Toki. You realize, don't you, there is no Jedi Academy? Not any more?”

“Ja. Ja, maybes.” Trapped again.

“I can't offer-”

“Ja? Well, maybes I not ams works for you anyways! I ams wants to train with Skwisgaar. You ams da crappy Jedi anyways!”

“Yeah. You're probably right.” Charles nodded, and left Toki there to fume at no one. Toki half turned to watch him go. Pickles was wafting up the path. As Charles and Pickles passed each other, they paused for a moment. Pickles stuck out a tentacle and playfully cuffed Charles on the chin. Charles stiffened and scowled at Pickles, but then his expression softened. He shook his head, and walked back to his house.

Pickles continued up towards where Toki was standing. He hopped up on a boulder, and pulled a smoke out of his vest. He lit up, and sat in silence for a while.

“You wanna hit?” asked Pickles at length.

Toki shrugged, but then took the smoke from Pickles' red tentacle. He puffed experimentally, and then bent over in a coughing fit.

Pickles laughed softly and whacked him on the back with a couple of tentacles. “Here dood, lemme show yoo. You breath in, and den you keep it in yer gills fer a minnit.” He demonstrated. “Let it get in yer air sac,” he advised, blowing out smoke.

“I ams not sure I has an air sac,” said Toki, trying again. This time the spicy smoke went down a little better. He looked up. The suns ... had they always been this amazing?

“So, what ams up wit' dat guy?” Toki asked Pickles, waving at Charles' house.

“Oh, Charlie? Yeh,” said Pickles. “Dey destroyed his home world. Broojeria. Da Empire did. Da whole t'ing. An' I t'ink he ain't been da same since.”

“What? Da whole planets? Dey can't do dats!”

“Uh, yeh. Dey got some destroyer ship now. Big as a moon, it's supposed t' be. An', dey took it out Charlie's home, his family. He wuz off wurld when it happened. Dat's how he ended up here, how I got t' know him.” Pickles smiled slightly. Toki looked at him curiously, but the bartender didn't elaborate further.

“You ams gonna send me back?” asked Toki.

“Wul, I dunno, kiddo. I t'ought mebbe Charlie wanted to, but mebbe we kin talk him outta it, huh?” He smiled conspiratorially.

“You ams helps me?” Toki asked him.

“Yeh. Yoo seem like a gud kid. But, yoo realize, it's dangerous, workin' fer da Rebellion an all dat?”

“I ams readies for da dangers!” said Toki, turning around. “Whoa!” he said, suddenly collapsing into Pickles' arms. The world continued swirling.

“Let's git yoo inside, eh kiddo?” laughed Pickles, hefting Toki's arm over his shoulder and walking him inside.

“What did you give him?” Charles asked as Pickles let Toki collapse onto the couch. Toki started snoring, his head buried in the cushions.

“Wanna hit?” laughed Pickles, extending a tentacle.

“What's in it?” asked Charles, narrowing his eyes.

“Yoo don't wanna know,” said Pickles as Charles took the smoke. “An' where are da Jedi doods?”

“Jedi?” asked Charles, rolling his eyes as he inhaled. “They're out too.”

“We can't send him back to his home. Yoo know dat.”

“What do I know?” said Charles.

“Quit talkin' in Jedi riddle crap.”

Charles shrugged. “Anyway. I sent word to a guy I know. He can maybe at least get those two nerf herders in the guest room back off the planet.”

“Dey're in da guest room?” asked Pickles.

“Yeah.”

“Uh-huh. An' da kid is on da couch.”

“Yeah?”

Pickles smiled. “So where 'm Ah sleepin'?” he asked, one tentacle lightly caressing the scar on Charles' cheek.

Charles exhaled, blowing a fine mist of spicy smoke.

“I THOUGHT YOU SAID IT WAS SAFE HERE!” Nathan bellowed.

“Did you think to look to see if you were FOLLOWED?” Charles bellowed back.

They both ducked back down under the coffee table as another explosion rocked nearby, knocking over lamps and books and bringing down wall hangings.

“Who ams shootsing at us?” asked Skwisgaar, ducking as he was nearly hit by another falling lamp.

“I think the Empire likes your work, Pickles,” said Charles, who was hugging a good lamp.

“Doods! We gaht to get da feck outta here!”

“He's right!” shouted Charles. “Everybody! Get to the vehicles! And somebody WAKE UP TOKI!”

On Charles' word, the men raced out of the house, Nathan stopping to shake Toki, who, evidently strong in the Force of sound sleep, was still on the couch, snoring away.

Pickles had started his speeder before Charles had even leapt inside. Nathan mounted his speeder bike, with Toki and Skwisgaar in the two side cars, and they were off, but only bare minutes later they were being pursued by Imperial Biker Scouts on their own, lighter speeder bikes.

Charles turned back at the sound of an especially loud explosion. “Goddammit! I had just finished paying off the mortgage on that place.”

“Feck da Empire!” shouted Pickles, who suddenly ducked at the sound of gunfire. “Does douchebags are SHOOTIN' at us!” he screamed.

“Slow down!” ordered Charles.

“Wut?”

“I told you,” said Charles, igniting his lightsaber, “SLOW DOWN!”

Pickles suddenly grinned and hit the brakes. Nathan looked back, confused, as he suddenly roared past Charles and Pickles on the speeder bike.

“What do those fuckers think they're doing?” Nathan yelled.

“I t'inks I ams knows!” said Skwisgaar, looking back.

Master Charles was standing up on his seat now, blocking laser blasts from their pursuers with his lightsaber. An imperial biker scout had pulled up alongside Pickles' landspeeder. Charles gracefully leapt over onto the bike, neatly knocking the hapless biker scout off as he did so. He slipped into the seat, grabbing the handle, and rode back to disable another pursuing bike with a stroke of the saber.

“I gots to tries dat!” Skwisgaar shouted. “Slows down, Nat'ans.”

“Looks fucking dangerous, dude!” said Nathan.

“Ja!” agreed Skwisgaar, pulling out the lightsaber he had borrowed from Charles.

Nathan throttled back, and the heavy speeder bike slowed enough it was overtaken by Pickles in the landspeeder. Skwisgaar stood up in the sidecar, readying himself as a biker scout caught up with them. Meanwhile, Pickles, up ahead, was firing back at a pursuing Imperial soldier using his head tentacles to man the laser pistol while he steered his speeder. He ducked a blast that shattered his windshield, and then fired a return right into the pursuing bike's steering mechanism.

The bike that had been pursuing Pickles suddenly veered, spinning out of control. It careened into Nathan's path. With quick reflexes Nathan jerked his larger bike out of the way of the wreckage, but the sudden change in direction jerked Skwisgaar off his feet. Instead of landing cleanly on the back of the Imperial speeder bike, as he had been intending, Skwisgaar ended up doing a belly flop to the seat, his lightsaber slipping from his grasp, bouncing off uselessly on the rocky ground.

Skwisgaar spent some moments desperately wrestling away the biker scout's pistol. The bike veered crazily from side to side as the scout tried to shoot and steer a the same time. Skwisgaar managed to pull himself into the seat and dislodged the biker scout, but almost immediately, another biker scout pulled up and simultaneously tried to ram him and shoot him.

“Fuck,” said Skwisgaar, who, being unarmed, could only duck.

Somewhere up ahead of Skwisgaar, Toki, still riding in his sidecar, shouted, “Nat'ans!”

“Yeah, kid?”

“Ams gets me da bike, too.”

Nathan grinned a pointed-tooth grin and eased off the throttle. One of the more persistent biker scouts pulled alongside, and Toki suddenly stood up in the sidecar.

Skwisgaar ducked as another shot from the Imperial's laser pistol nearly took his head off. He looked ahead and smiled.

“Hey smarts guys! Looks where you ams goings!” he shouted to the biker scout. The scout looked ahead just in time to see another bike bearing down on him in the world's fastest game of chicken.

The scout had time to scream and take his hands off the handlebars. He veered off the road, and straight into a ancient tree, producing a warm red fireball as he did so.

Skwisgaar sighed in relief and watched as the crazy winner of the chicken game turned his bike around and pulled alongside. “T'anks, kid,” Skwisgaar told Toki. “I ams owes you one now.”

“Ams dat all of dems?” asked Toki.

“For now. I guess.” Skwisgaar pointed up. “But 'tinkis I ams hears more ships.”

“Why dey ams sent so many guys?” asked Toki.

“I ams not know. Hey, dere dey are!”

The two pulled up to where Charles and Nathan had stopped alongside Pickles' now badly smoking landspeeder.

“Doods gaht me right in da engine block,” Pickles was sighing. “Did yoo doods git 'em all?”

“We t'inks dere ams more coming,” said Skwisgaar.

“Why were there so many of those assholes? You not pay your phone bill or some shit, Charles?” asked Nathan.

Suddenly, everyone flinched as a mid-sized star ship appeared hovering right overhead, guns pointed in their direction.

“Fucks!” said Toki as everybody raised their hands in a gesture of surrender.

Still hanging overhead, the vessel slowly opened a gangway. There was a strange furry man standing up at the top of the ramp.

“Hey, any of you rebel douchebagsch need a ride?” he yelled down.

“About fucking time you showed up!” Charles yelled back. He had already jumped up on the end of the gangway.

“I took the schenic route!” laughed the furry man, pumping Charles' hand. “Come on, asschholes! Hurry the fuck up!” he yelled down at everyone else.

People began grabbing what few items they'd salvaged from Charles' house that morning and jumping on the ramp. “Help me with the bike,” grumbled Nathan. “Is this guy gonna LAND?”

“I ams not t'inks so,” laughed Skwisgaar, helping Nathan push the large speeder bike up on the not-quite-earthbound ramp.

Toki rode up the plank on the speeder bike he had nicked from an Imperial. He was amazed. He hadn't been aboard a starship, other than the rust bucket his uncle had kept in the hangar. And this looked.... Well, it frankly looked like another rust bucket.

“Guys, this is Captain Murderface,” said Charles, indicating the man who had been shouting at them. He looked like a very big cat, with black-striped white fur, and twinkling amber eyes. “This is Nathan, Skwisgaar, Toki, and this is Pickles,” said Charles, introducing everyone.

“Picklesch?” asked Murderface. “General Picklesch?” The yellow eyes opened wide.

“Uh. Yeh,” admitted Pickles.

“I don't believe thisch! Thisch isch an honor,” Murderface said, eagerly pumping Pickles' hand. “DIC! Hey, DIC, get out here! You're not gonna believe thisch!”

“General Pickle?” asked Toki. “I t'ought you ams da bartender?”

“Uh, well, guy's gahta make a living,” shrugged Pickles.

“Toki, General Pickles is a great leader of the Rebellion,” Charles told him.

“Awww. I wouldn't say dat,” said Pickles, who was actually blushing.

“DIC!” said Murderface as a magenta-colored humanoid droid awkwardly shuffled out. Toki squinted at the robot. It looked vaguely like a protocol droid, but where the eyes should have been were only burned out holes.

“Thisch is Dee-One-See, my nav droid!” said Murderface. “DIC, this is General Pickles.”

“Pickles! Baby!” said DIC. “We're your biggest fans, baby. Yeah!”

“But, dis guy's navigation droid? He ams blind?” Toki whispered to Skwisgaar.

“Uh. I ams guesses so,” said Skwisgaar.

“Murderface, we gotta get off this planet,” explained Charles. “It's getting too fucking dangerous.”

“I'd like to get off thisch dump too,” shrugged Murderface, licking a paw with a lazy pink tongue and rubbing it against his forehead. “But my hyperdrive is trasched. We took schome Imperial fire during our last misschion.”

“Let me look at it!” said Nathan. “I can fix ANYTHING!”

“Nate, baby,” said DIC. “Nothing personal, but do we want a Crocodoid messing with our wiring, Bill baby, yeah?”

Nathan glowered at DIC, teeth pointed and eyes narrowing to slits. DIC stepped worriedly behind Murderface.

“If he can fixsch it? Fuck yeah, I want him messching with it!” said Murderface. “Come on, Nathan!”

Charles' house lay in smoking ruins.

The remains of the small residence was now swarming with Imperial troops. Captain Crozier stood among them, fuming to his underlings.

“Bounty hunters. Buncha bullshit. We don't need their scum!” He cast a particularly irritated glance in the direction of a large figure crouching among the ruins.

Crozier looked up as a large shadow crossed the land. It was an Imperial shuttle, blocking out the sunlight. Crozier watched as the large but graceful vehicle folded its magnificent white wings and slowly alit near the house. And then the gangplank was lowered, and an honor guard of stormtroopers emerged to stand at attention. Crozier himself stood erect as an officer shouted, “Attention!”

A large figure then strode confidently down the gangplank. Crozier stepped forward as he passed. “Grand Moff Selatcia,” he said. Rumor had it, the big man had been some kind of Jedi high priest before working for the Empire. They said he had dark powers. Of course, they said a lot of things.

“Is my information correct? Have your men failed to apprehend the Rebel scum, Captain Crozier?” Selatcia demanded.

“Sadly, that is correct, sir,” confessed Crozier.

“The Emperor is not pleased,” warned Selatcia.

“We think we know where they were headed. They won't get far.”

“You think? Or you know?”

“Well....” sputtered Crozier.

Without replying, Grand Moff Selatcia strode off towards the wreckage, and Crozier reluctantly padded along after him like some kind of obedient dog.

“Can you track him?” asked Selatcia.

“Yes,” replied the large bounty hunter who was still carefully examining the wreckage.

“I want him. And I want him ALIVE,” Selatcia told him.

The bounty hunter stood up and turned towards Selatcia. Crozier cringed. The man had no face, just a mysterious, Noh-like mask. It was made of some kind of metal alloy.

“As you wish,” said the bounty hunter.

End of Part 1