Ravensdagger_Overkill

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven Hk-47 watched the human thug gurgle and cough his last, enjoying every moment of the organic’s suffering until finally the man fell back and died for good. He shot him once more, just to be sure, then tossed the very dead Sullustan aside. The creature’s facial flaps were turning an interesting shade of purple, but it wasn’t worth more than a passing note in his databanks.With a lack of grace that felt like a magnet rubbing against his circuits, he trumped out into the corridor and found two dead Gamorreans on the ground. He paused, realising that he had made a mistake, one of the pigs was only mostly dead.He corrected that before returning into the operating room.The girl, his would be master, was still concussed by the stun grenade. That would not last forever. She would awaken soon and discover that he was no longer tied to her by the restraining bolt. But that was for later.He raised his purloined blaster and aimed it squarely at her head. The calculations for the perfect shot came to him in an interval of time so short it was barely worthy of notice, but he did not pull the trigger.The girl had the makings of a proper sith, the sort that could, if put in the right place and given the proper incentive, shake the galaxy to its core. At least, that’s what he hoped, insofar as he could do such a thing. He did not know the state of the galaxy at large.Perhaps, just maybe, allowing an organic companion to follow at his side would be useful. He had certainly tolerated some before. He even respected one or two. Though in the grand scheme of things, the likelihood of this girl being worth his attention was astronomically low.She groaned, a hand, her organic hand, coming up to rub at her forehead. That had been faster than he predicted.“Observation: You seem to be coming back to your senses.”She tensed, then spun out of the chair, grabbed her dropped blaster and pointed it around the room while her eyes darted around. It was a decently fast reaction. Not nearly as rapid as a proper combat droid, but fast nonetheless. “Hey, robot, who killed these two?” she asked while pointing to the dead organics at his feet.“Query: isn’t it obvious?”She nodded. “Well done.” Standing the little human moved to the door and poked her head out before turning back towards the operating table. She raised her mechanical arm, flexing until the three-fingered hand ground closed. “This is going to take some getting used to,” she said.“Observation: Filthy organics usually have difficulty replacing their fragile body parts.”“We’re usually pretty attached to our original bits, yeah.” Her attention turned to the shell of the stun grenade. It was still mostly intact, though a bit of blue smoke was pouring from the cracks in the casing. “What was that?”HK-47 slowly bent forwards against the protest of his rusting knee joints and picked up the grenade. “Assessment: A reusable Merr-Sonn Munitions neural stun grenade.” He turned it around slowly, then crushed it into a crumpled mess. “Commentary: A very specialized weapon used to subdue belligerent organics.”“Well it gave me a damned headache. Next time you see one tossed my way, shoot the person that sent it.”“Statement: I did.”Snorting, she got to one knee next to the dead human and started searching his pockets. She found cred chips and a few Hutt peggats that she tossed to the floor. A comlink joined them, then a magazine for the thug’s blaster. “I don’t know what half of these things are,” she said.“Advisement: They are various items that you might find useful. I would explain them, but I will be going now. Statement: You were an amusing organic to follow. I will allow you to live and cause chaos to facilitate my escape.”The girl’s head snapped up, locking with his ocular sensors before falling to his chest where the bolt was gone. “You’re free,” she said.“Observation: your ability to notice the obvious will no doubt serve you well.” HK-47 began to walk towards the exit.“Hey, what’s your name?” she asked.He paused. “Query: Is that not something you should have asked earlier?”She shrugged one shoulder. “It never came up.”He nodded. “Statement: I am HK-47, hunter-killer assassin droid.”Her eyes narrowed. “Who are you going to work for if you’re free, HK-47?” she asked.“Comment: There are plenty of people that need killing. Organics are always willing to spare some credits to get rid of some foe or another.”“How would you like sticking with me?” she asked. “You’re handy for translating, and I could use your expertise besides.”“Statement: None of that is useful for me.”“Your purpose is fighting, isn’t it? Stick around me and you’ll never lack in action.” She reached up to her neck and tugged at the collar there. “By the way, how do you remove this damned thing?”Hk-47 pondered the offer for a few seconds, a terribly long time for a droid of his capabilities. Perhaps he could remain with the little sithling. She would certainly end up dead at the hands of someone more capable, and then he could hire himself out to them, slowly climbing the totem pole of death until he was once more serving at the top. “Assessment: the slave collar is linked to a central data bank. The only way to deactivate it non-explosively is from the main server.”She groaned. “This one explodes too?”“Observation: if your head explodes I will be certain to record it for prosperity.”“Thanks,” she said before letting go of the collar. Still on her knees, she freed the belt off the human male and slipped it around her waist before replacing his two blasters into their sheaths. “Right then, HK-47, our first goal, if you do want to work with me, will be finding that databank and taking care of it.” She found a grenade in the Sollustian’s pockets and tossed it in the air before catching it. “It might be fun.”If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.“Advisement: The collar marks you as property of Nimas the Hutt. The Hutts do not take kindly to anyone disrupting their business.”“You’re saying I should allow myself to be enslaved?” she asked.“Negation: Oh no, I am merely saying that any fight will have to be spectacularly bloody to succeed. Comment: I am rather excited... potential master.”She shook her head, long hair tumbling down her shoulders and over the collar. “Don’t call me master. You’re a free robot, aren’t you?” Walking past him, the human pointed to the pile of detritus and junk she had pulled from the pockets of her assailants. “Is any of that useful?”“Query: If you do not wish for me to call you master, than what title do you want? Observation: the flat round objects are peggats, a local currency used by the Hutt cartels. They are acceptable anywhere in Hutt space. The flat chips are Republic Credits. They are used in most civilised space.”She nodded and picked up the useful bits, leaving the rest strewn about. “My name is Taylor. But when we’re on the job, call me-” she cut herself off and his social subroutines suggested a certain amount of hesitation. “Call me Khepri.”“Query: is Khepri a title in your disgustingly primitive native tongue?” he asked.The girl, Khepri, stood up and stretched. It was obvious that the weight of her new arm was bothering her, but she made no complaints. “Not really. Just a name I was given. The name of an old god that that was symbolised by beetles. It’s not important.”“Statement: All titles are important. Fleshy meatsacks tend to have an overinflated sense of pride and fear when responding to the appropriate title.”She rolled her eyes and slid out of the operating room only to pause with a wrinkled nose at the sight of the dead Gamoreans. “Fine then, if you’re so keen on giving me a title then pick one that isn’t too insulting. Do you know where the centre for this thing is?” she tapped the collar around her neck.“Negation: I do not. Advisement: Perhaps finding one of Nimas’ thugs still alive would allow us to discover its location?”She grunted and slid back into the operating room and stood over the dead human. She kicked him over, then bent down and started pulling off his jacket. The coat was too big for her by half, but when she pulled the collar up it hid her throat and the device wrapped around it. “Let’s find someone to talk to.”They were careful on exiting the clinic not to make any fuss or attract any unwanted attention. As soon as they were on the street, Khepri lead the pair off towards a side road, then down an alley. “Tell me what you know about Nimas,” she demanded.“Statement: I know very little. If this Nimas is like other Hutt then they most likely hold a firm grasp on the region’s economy and armed forces. I suspect that they are subservient to another larger Hutt. Comment: No slug worth its weight in salt would want to live in this kind of backwater.”“They? You don’t know if Nimas is male or female?” she asked.“Comment: The Hutt are hermaphroditic. Nimas’ gender at the moment is entirely up to Nimas.”“Huh. You mentioned slugs, were you just insulting them or were you being serious,” she asked before poking her head out of the end of the alley.“Answer: The Hutt are large sentients that take on the form of two-limbed slugs. They grow to obscene proportions over the course of their exceedingly long lives and are quite enjoyably ruthless in both combat and trade. The Hutt cartels have never been a group anyone sensible would want to anger.”She huffed. “Well, they shouldn’t have placed a collar around my neck then.”“Query: Not even after knocking you out while you were in the process of robbing them?”She paused for a few long seconds. “I might be a little too ruthless right now. Damn. I still need to get this thing off. Let’s just try to do this with minimal casualties.”“Observation: Minimal does not mean none.”The girl pointed to a pair of humans walking together down an otherwise vacant street. Both were armed under the brown parkas they wore, but they looked unconcerned and at ease, adopting the easy swagger of off-duty thugs. “We’re going to ask those two some questions. Well, you’re going to ask. I’m going to capture them.” She nodded to herself. “Did you find a title that you like yet?”“Query: What do you think of Darth Khepri?” he asked.“Darth? What’s that mean?”“Explanation; Darth is an ancient title given to Lord of the Sith, a very pragmatic group of warriors who refused to bend to anyone’s rulership. They stood in opposition to the bureaucracy of the Republic and the tyranny of the Jedi. They were feared and respected in equal measure.”Tilting her head back, she eyed his optical receptors for a moment. “You sound like you respect them.”“Admission: I have served with and for some Darths in the past. They were always the best of masters.”“And taking the title won’t piss anyone off?”“Statement: Oh, it most assuredly will. Though perhaps just those you would have angered anyway. There are no longer any Darths or Sith as far as I am aware. A pity.”She shrugged. “It’ll do for now, I guess.”

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Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight When Taylor asked HK-47 where Nimas lived, she was unceremoniously told that the Hutts were the farthest thing from modest in that side of the galaxy. She just had to find the biggest, most ostentatious building around and she would find her target.So it was no surprise that Nimas’ home was more of a fortress. Huge steel walls surrounding a building painted in the off-white that most homes in the area adopted. Domes stuck out of the top, the mid-day sunlight reflecting off glass panels where the sand hadn’t crusted on.For all that it was a fortress, security was lax. The front gates were wide open and vehicles hovered in and out almost nonstop. A few kiosks were even set up nearby to entice the guard patrols with bottles of water and juice and other things.Aliens of every sort were moving around the palace, most looking shifty, but a few carrying the regal air of important people on important business.And there were slaves. Lines of people in chains walking in formation, some tied to walls, more tending to the ground by sweeping with long brooms while the sun beat down on exposed skin. They were never in anyone’s path, not for long anyway.Taylor moved back into an alleyway, slinking into the shadows as if she wasn’t just casing out a palace. There was a beggar by the entrance, an older human with brittle bones and too gaunt skin that she used to keep an eye on the street. She’d give him a credit chip when she was done.“What do you know about infiltration?” she asked HK-47.The droid’s eyes flashed. “Statement: I am versed in a multitude of specialized infiltration methods ranging from covert operations to spontaneous improvised infiltration.”“Okay,” Taylor said. “We need to get in there, right? I don’t know where the control room for this damned thing is, which means we need to question someone. Or you do, at any rate. I could just walk in, but there are things that look like turrets and some of the guards are droids. I don’t like my chances if I go all out and I don’t want too many casualties. We’re going to have to play this by ear.”“Repetition: Play this by ear. Query: Is that another of your quaint sayings, Darth Khepri?”“Those pig looking ones,” she said, ignoring the last. “What are they?”“Commentary: They are Gamorreans. Literally the galaxy’s least favoured pigs.”Taylor resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She felt a group of three of the Gamorreans walking not too terribly far away from her location. There were plenty of bugs all over them. And in them. She didn’t need the mental image of one of them scratching a nest of lice around his crotch but she had it now. “I don’t want to be racist... speciest?” she asked.“Comment: When an organic begins a statement in such a fashion they usually end it in a spectacularly racist way.”“Oh, shut up,” she shot back. “The Gamorreans, they’re not usually high ranked, right?”“Statement: They are walking pigs. Sometimes they can be useful by absorbing a blaster bolt meant for you.”“Right, I got that impression too. I have a plan, but it’s a little rough.”

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Bween was an excellent seneschal. Oh yes, she knew because the great Nimas said so. Bween had been the Hutt’s perfect chamberlain for nearly a decade now, a decade since she had left the deep waters of Mon Cala, since she had found employment with the great Nimas, since she had first set foot on the disgustingly dry ball that was Tatooine.It wasn’t all bad. She eyed some of the slaves they had sold that very morning and counted their heads. Jabba needed more workers and the Hutt lord was always exacting. Bween knew that if the count was off, it was her employer that would suffer for it.The air right outside Nimas’ great palace was dry and crusty and filled with sand, but she had a job to do. There was nothing for it. At least she wasn’t like the poor saps trying so hard to climb into the great Nimas’ good books.No, Bween was a good seneschal, and she would endure the indignity in silence with a straight back, even if the world was inhospitable to Quarrens. It was only further proof that she was worthy of the great Nimas’ attention.One of their guests, a Neimoidian with a few pleasure droids and manservants of his own, nodded to her as he entered the shade of the palace. “Greetings, Bween, my old friend,” he said.“Hello, Sib Nark,” Bween said before giving the guest an elegant bow. “It’s a pleasure to see you again. You are here for your meeting with the great Nimas?”“Indeed. But I see that you are shipping many slaves away. Perhaps you have made a good bit of business already today?” The Nimoidian’s eyes were narrowed and Bween could feel his shrewd mind at work.“A little,” Bween admitted. “Things in the galaxy at large are growing excited. That means more work for us, doesn’t it?”“Oh hoh, yes, yes. I think you will be happy to learn that we have quite a few droids coming in soon. More than we know what to do with, and of good stock too. That, and the Trade Federation have increased production of war droids by an order of magnitude. My clan has quite a few older models around now. Surplus, but no worse for it.”“You say that as if it’s a good thing,” Bween said coyly. She gestured deeper into the palace. “Make your plea to the great Nimas, she will give you an open ear and a fair trade, yes?”“Ah hah, yes,” Sib Nark said. With a genial smile that Bween knew was false, the Nimoidian moved in, his retinue right behind him.Bween smiled a small, private smile, made a note in her datapad, then looked up at the next group approaching. She blinked. Three Gamorreans, all of them covered in thick beige cloth, the same sort used in awnings, were moving towards her. In the middle of their little triangle was a human female, eyes hidden behind blue goggles and her form shrouded by a thick black jacket. She walked with easy grace, entirely unlike the clanking protocol droid at her side.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!One thing was immediately obvious, the young woman was important. She had that bearing to her, the walk of someone who got things done, of the best mercenaries and bounty hunters that prawled through the great Nimas’ palace. Bween gave the female a shallow bow. “Greetings, and welcome to-”Her mouth stopped, her body locked itself in place, and were they able to her eyes would have widened. Her breathing came in slowly, then left just as slowly, her heart didn’t beat any faster even as her mind tried, tried so hard to move.She straightened, finding the girl and her droid just a few steps closer. The girl looked up to her companion and said something in a harsh, guttural tongue.“Translation: This is official business. Move, filth,” the droid said.The girl repeated it word for word, her accent atrocious and with emphasis in all the wrong places.The droid shook its head, then repeated itself, slower this time. It made a few more comments, some words in Huttese, others in the strange language. Bween wasn’t paying attention, she was moving against the bond, the thing holding her back. Or she tried. It was like moving a limb that she had never had. No response, no motion, nothing. She wanted to cry, but even that was denied her.Her mouth opened suddenly. “Translation: This is official business. Move, filth,” she said.The droid made some more commentary, this time repeating ‘translation’ a few times.The girl nodded, then gestured with a robotic hand that had been hidden by the sleeves of her too-large jacket. Bween spun around, took a step back, and was suddenly by the girl’s side. With casual ease, the group moved into the palace.Bween watched with mounting horror as the Gamorreans at the front squealed and brandished their axes at anyone who grew near, and felt sick when her own voice joined them. “This is official business. Move, filth,” she said to a few slaves moving towards them.They moved deeper into the halls, then at the first intersection took the path that was least travelled, a corridor leading off into the administrative section and the quarters of the staff that worked at the palace.Bween was made to walk over to a door, opening it with a press of the scanner. The room’s lights came on, revealing an office that was empty save for a single protocol droid in the corner working over a few datapads.The group moved in, the Gamorreans standing near the door.“Greetings, miss Bween, how can I assist you?” the protocol droid asked.The girl asked something to her droid, then with a careless shrug the droid pulled out a blaster and shot the protocol droid twice in the chest.She gestured to the corner of the room and Bween walked over. Bween felt her own hands running over her robes, searching into her pockets and patting herself down. Everything she had was unceremoniously tossed onto a nearby desk. Then, with only the girl’s stepping back to to warn Bween, she was suddenly released.Bween gasped, hand going to her chest to still a heart that wasn’t beating hard. “What did you do? I, I... the great Nimas won’t allow this kind of thing in her domain!” she yelled.The droid turned to its master and said a few things, got a reply, and turned back to her. “Salutations: My master, Darth Khepri, greets you, snivelling walking sack of wasted fish meat. She wishes to inquire about the no doubt poor state of your health after such a...” the Droid paused. “Sarcastic Commentary: Difficult ordeal.”“You, you can’t do this!” Bween said. She started to walk off only for her body to lock up again. She would have fallen, only for her hand to shoot out, grab the edge of a table and straighten her back up. She moved back into the corner and was free once more. “No, you can’t,” Bween repeated, though this time she didn’t try to escape.The girl asked her protocol droid something.“Translation: Where is the control centre for the slave collars. Assertion: You do not need to answer. Commentary: I would enjoy hearing your screams while I discover just how much your insides resemble that of a fish.”“Oh Force,” Bween squeaked.“Commentary: The Force will not help you here.” The droid reached down to its side and pulled out a blaster that looked tiny in its fist. “Suggestion: Start speaking.”“I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you,” Bween said.The droid almost looked disappointed as he turned to his master and translated what Bween was saying. With eyes colder even than the droid’s the young human female looked at Bween and asked some questions.The droid dutifully translated. “Query: Where is the control centre for the slave collars. Query: Who has the command codes to disable a specific collar. Query: Where does Nimas keep her credits?”Bween’s hands balled into fists. She didn’t want to. She never wanted to betray the great Nimas. But she wanted to die even less. “The control room is near the slave pens in the wing opposite this one,” she said. The first words out of her mouth were like pulling teeth, but it became easier with each passing word to speak. “Only one of Nimas’ lieutenants can undo the locks. They’re biometrically locked in the command room. I... I could do it.”“Commentary: Oh my, does the Hutt flesh bag trust you, a dirty fish lost in the desert? Assessment: The Hutt truly is a creature after my own heart.”The girl, Darth Khepri, said something that sounded dismissive. Bween watched as the girl interacted with her droid, mounting horror coiling in her chest. This situation was entirely unfair. No one should have been able to control her that way, it was unjust. The great Nimas would do something about it, surely.Droid turned back to her and started asking questions, Bween couldn’t help but wonder where she had heard the title Darth before.

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