"I began my life on Abregado-rae. Under the Tundei regime my family – consisting of my father, mother, uncle, myself and my younger brother – worked as entertainers. Our species, the Gados, are built for such things. Though humanoid in appearance, we possess great flexibility. Each bone in our skeleton is like a tiny knot, connected by strong ligaments and muscles. With this structure, we are able to perform leaps and defy gravity and the laws of physics like no others – but I digress…

Since the regime had taken power, the planet had lost a large percentage of its visitors and more and more troops of performers were dropping out of the profession to become something more profitable. My family could do no such thing. A long time ago my father became indebted to the now leader of the government. He owes him what some people would call a life debt. When I was not yet born, this man helped my father, pulling him from a life of poverty and almost certain death. My father was made head of a successful troupe of artists; such as he is now, that entertained the highest of clientele. Sadly, as I have said, we fell on dark days.

When I was only seven years old, my father told me that we must leave. I was quite excited at the thought of exploring a new place. I had never left the confines of the system before, but knew from others that where we were was only a speck in the great stretch that was the universe. Father told Hadi (my brother) and I that my uncle Kahil was to take us away and that he and mother would follow soon after – they had some matters to settle first. I was reluctant, but as every child does, believed the words of my father. I never saw him again.

For disobeying the laws of the land, my parents were killed. My brother and I were likened to illegal contraband – it was claimed we were the property of the regime and that in robbing them of us, our parents had robbed them of two potential generals, soldiers, diplomats, and so on (it seemed they had high opinions of what they expected we would become). I wouldn't find this out until some years later, of course. In the meanwhile, our uncle would have us believe that they simply hadn't dealt with things at home yet.

My uncle gave us sweets, a rare thing, when we set off on our great journey. He told us we were headed to a far off planet named Selonia. It was inhabited entirely by people who looked like the animals we kept as pets, he said. I was in total disbelief, but sure enough, when we arrived, I found that the people there were not human, but beasts – yet they walked around on two legs and some even spoke our language.

I found out when I was older that the reason for our arrival here was my uncle's ties to one of the Selonian diplomats. Some time ago, she had visited Abregado-rae to discuss trade routes and the like. She and her family came to the show and loved it – there is something universally enjoyable about circo-troupes, that they do not require an understanding of language or culture. I don't know how it happened, but she took a liking to my uncle. Of course, it is a diabolical thought for a Selonian to mate outside of its species. My uncle was a care-free man, who refused to be controlled, and I think that this was the reason why she was fascinated by him – he stood for everything that her people hated.

It was she, against her better judgment and protest of her peers, who would take us in. We quickly became the talk of the dens. All through the subterranean burrows, word of these hairless creatures spread. Rumors began to crop up that we were spys or such like, and it took a good while before we were finally accepted. I say accepted, yet truthfully, it was more as though we were abided. The males (they are very rare) who headed the various families saw us as servants and in spite of their own quickness, would call for us to do menial tasks, errands and such. They argued that we were intruders into their culture therefore owed it to the native people.

It was odd at first, but we became accustomed to living underground. My brother was so young that he did not know anything else, and would protest against going above ground. I loved it, of course. I had free reign of the land there and could do what I wanted to. It sounds so trivial, but just being able to sit and look at the stars or take a stroll in the sun was a great pleasure for me. In the end, all this would be to my detriment.

While I retained my humanity, Hadi meshed well with the young Selonians. By the time he reached his eighteenth birthday, he and a band of cubs (as I called them) were like brothers. So well liked was Hadi that on that very birthday, the Selonian people truly accepted him. He was given permission to craft a Selonian glaive. This ritual is symbolic of passage into adulthood for a Selonian, and shows them to be strong of character. My uncle was so proud, yet reluctant to show this, knowing that as I was already twenty years old, I would never be able to undertake the ceremony.

I did not fret on it, of course. Though I would have liked to be a part of the community, I was just as happy living on the fringe. I talked with the diplomat who had first taken us in often. She was the one who taught us how to speak the Selonian language. She said that I should become her aide, one day, and travel with her. She admired my resilience. You see, on my home world there is no culture, no history. We were a people of outcasts, a mutt planet. Selonia's foundations are built on the opposite of this, which made it very difficult to produce good diplomats (that and, of course, the fact that majority of the species were agoraphobic).

In a way, we were both secretly envious of one another. I would have liked to have had some heritage and history to say that I belonged to, and she would have liked to have been rid of hers. I do not think she realized it, but she was already cleansing herself of it all. Her first step had been accepting us. She loved my uncle dearly, of course, so that would have played a part in it. Still to this day she dotes on him, and asks to hear stories of his exploits. Sometimes she'll ask to see him perform a trick, but he's getting a little too old for that now, and living under ground has caused many of his muscles, much like Hadi's, to weaken. I alone retain my full strength.

Here is where we begin this story. I was twenty cycles old; my brother is eighteen, and my uncle sixty-two. It had been years since we lost hope of seeing our parents or home again. It was, in fact, my birthday. I was to turn twenty-one – a prestigious age else where in the core, I was told, but here things will be no different. Just as normal, I was on the move."

The head of sept Chanzari, one of the stronger families on Selonian, had called for Vahid. Luckily, enough for the Gados, the Selonian's were a people of ingenuity and had created the bullet train that transported its citizens around the various dens. As the young humanoid stood, watching the earth go past the windows, his body shaking as the train did, he felt the eyes of the Selonians upon him. The ambassador, Vahid's uncle and Vahid himself were the only beings upon the planet to wear clothes and it was as though the native population were repulsed by this. Vahid would compensate by wearing no shirt, but it simply was not good enough and he was not willing to do anything else – it was cold down there, and he did not have a fur coat (he wanted to maintain what was left of his dignity, too).

He stepped off the train, barged and elbowed about until he found his way to the 'station' exit. Given their dislike for him, it would be plausible that they avoided him like the plague and that as he walked through the tunnels they moved out of his way as much as possible. In reality, the opposite occurred. People went out of their way to get in front of him, to slow him down, because they knew that if he were late he would get a good telling off and perhaps another lash to add to the welts already all over his back.

It was hopelessly dark in the tunnels. Vahid had learnt his way around, of course, but the lack of light did mean that it was impossible to check what time it was. He had a kinetic-powered chrono, a gift from his uncle, but he could only read the face when he was on the planets surface.

"You're late, Hesam!!"

Almost jumping out of his skin, Vahid looked up from squinting at his watch to see the angry face of the Selonian male. He had become so used to the Selonian language now that he did not even think of it as foreign, and translated it in his head instantly.

"Looking at that watch of yours, are you? You spend all day looking at it yet you are still ten minutes late. You are useless," he snarled, giving the Gados a clip on the back of the head as he came to the doorway and thereby knocking him into the den. A few female Selonian's lounged around within, some sleeping, others eating. Vahid remembered to keep his eyes on the ground – one wrong look and he would be accused of trying to woo one of the male's brides.

"I don't know why I bother," he mumbled.

One of the females gasped. The others joined in immediately.

"Did you hear him, daaahlink? He said he doesn't know why he bothers!"

The male whirled around and Vahid had to stop himself from ducking as he was hit on the back of the head once again, "If you're so good, get your skinny little behind off of this planet, eh? You're worthless to us, a slave… Mrrrahas was a fool to ever take you and your crazy uncle in."

"My uncle isn't crazy."

THWAK!

"Well you are! You must be, otherwise you'd have learnt long ago not to back-talk me, boy."

The way he was talking, you'd think the beast was double Vahid's age. In actual fact, he was three years younger. At seventeen, he was one of the only fertile males in the community, making him an incredibly rare and precious commodity. As a result, he had been pampered and lauded over until his ego had consumed him entirely. Vahid felt quite sorry for him. The Selonian held up a paw, as if to silence and protest the Gados might have – despite the fact that he had none.

"I have a job for you."

"Oh joy."

"You are going to take this to Hadi," he said, with a motion to an ornamental case propped against the wall. It looked about a foot wide, and two foot long, "It is very fragile and valuable – drop it and I will have your life. Hadi is expecting it within the hour. If he does not get it within half an hour, I will have your life. It must be clean. If it is dirty-"

"You will have my life. I understand, Perrra. I'll get it to my-… Hadi."

With that, Vahid bowed out of the gracious company of the Selonians. He held the heavy package under his arms, barely giving its contents a thought. Take it to Hadi, Perrra had said. Not to your brother. It was as though he had been relegated from being family, to being hired help – and not even hired at that! Forced was more like it. Well… Perrra spoke the truth. He could have upped and gone if he had the will. There were human colonies on the surface and with his agility, he could make it to them unscathed, but he simply could not leave his brother alone like that. He knew that he still cared for him and as the elder of the two Vahid felt a responsibility to look after him.

Back onto the bullet train, he went, and soon enough was at his brother’s door.

"Who is it?" a voice called out.

"Vahid."

The door swung open almost immediately. There stood Hadi, fully clothed – unusual for one who had embraced the Selonian culture and traditions so strongly. Never the less, the brothers embraced and the door was quickly shut behind Vahid. It was a rare occasion that they were alone and so Vahid assumed that Hadi would like to use it to the fullest of its potential.

"I have a package for you, little brother," he said, presenting the case with mock bravado.

"Ah, thank you, Vahid!"

Speaking in Basic was a welcome change. Vahid usually only uttered a few words a day in his native tongue, and those were curses against the Selonian beasts. He beamed with curiosity.

"So, what has my little brother been up to lately?" he asked, looking up at one of the Selonian den paintings on the wall as Hadi took the case away to the table to examine its contents.

"Oh, so much, brother. I only wish you were not so stubborn. You would love this lifestyle."

Looking back over his shoulder, Vahid shook his head, "You know that it doesn't fit me. It never will. I'd rather be a slave to them then have to follow their lead," he said, quickly adding more as he noticed his brothers' sadness, "but I am happy that you have found something you are so passionate about."

"I have so many things that interest me, brother. Are you sure you wouldn't like to share in them? It pains me to think that we are growing apart."

As if unable to look his brother in the eyes, Vahid stood and continued to scrutinize the painting.

"You already know my answer."

Behind his brothers back, Hadi nodded solemnly. The case was finally opened, though Vahid did not look back to see what it was. It probably would have been better if he had, given than seconds later he found himself unconscious.

"When I finally woke up, I had no idea where I was, though one factor held true – it was dark. I sat up, and immediately regretted it. My whole body ached. What had happened? I was so cold, that this couldn’t be one of the burrows. There was no familiar scent of packed earth either. Was I on the surface? No, it was pitch black. There were no stars, no clouds, no … earth beneath me. I was lying in a cot of some kind.

Given my last memories, I wagered I must be in a medical bay of some kind – but that didn't make sense. If something had happened when Hadi had opened the case, and I had been injured, the Selonian's would have left me for dead. Finally bringing myself strength enough to sit up, I felt my neck stiffen. Pressing two fingertips against the skin, I felt the back of my head with a degree of shock – I had been shaven! I had a circular patch on the back of my head where only stubble was left. Feeling about a bit, I winced – there was a wound of some kind there."

…

"Careful with that."

Vahid snapped his head around in the darkness, and just as his eyes were beginning to adjust to the shadow, lights flickered on. Just as he had suspected, he was in a medical ward of some kind. It was all stainless steel, glimmering white. In the doorway there stood a humanoid. He was old, but not as old as his uncle had been, and had a swaggering look about him. He had a smile on his face.

"Who are you? Where am I? What's going on?"

"Slow down there, kid. You aren't in trouble."

"Where is Hadi? What happened?"

Laughing, the male shook his head, "Give me a second to speak and I'll tell you, alright? The name's Kit. You're on my ship, the Teslacoil. You were brought on board so that head wound of yours could be treated."

"How did I get it? What happened?"

Kit paused, and looked unsure, "Hell if I know, kid. I'm just the middleman, here. I'm looking after you on behalf of the Republic."

"The Republic? Why? What's happened to my brother?" Vahid was getting angrier by the second.

"Look, I don't know. All I can tell you is that you're lucky to be alive. When you came on here, you had two hooks jammed in your head. We managed to get one out, but that thing you felt there, just on the back of your head? That's where part of one is still left imbedded. We can't remove it, or we'll risk causing more damage."

Vahid felt nauseous and lowered himself back to sitting down in the cot. Gingerly, he touched the wound again. He could feel where there were stitches, and the cold metallic surface of the hook. Touching it made him feel worse.

"You should get some rest, kid. I'll come wake you up when I can tell you more, alright?"

"My broth-"

"Rest."

And with that, the lights went off and Vahid was plunged into an uncomfortable darkness once again. He sighed, and let his head hit his pillow. He wouldn't sleep, he knew that much .There was too much going on in his mind…

Kit headed away from the med bay towards the bridge of the ship. The vessel was a small YT type, just meant for passenger or light cargo runs. It had seen better days, but the Teslacoil had always done Kit well up until now, so he wasn't about to give up on it. Slouching down into his chair, the spacer pulled up a news data pad and grabbed a cup of stimcaff from the replicator. He began to read, flicking through the latest goings-on in the galaxy. It wasn't long, however, before he began to feel uncomfortable and, lowering the tablet, looked at the figure standing across the room from him.

"What?"

"I am merely curious as the to meat bags state, master."

The droid, a good six foot tall, stood against the wall opposite where the spacer sat. It looked as though it had been around as long as the Teslacoil, in spite of some obvious attempts to de-rust it. It was bolt to the ground and had its armed strapped behind its back. Clearly, Kit didn't want this droid wandering off.

"He's fine."

"I am 99% certain that you are lying, master. It is highly probable that the meat bag has sustained serious brain damage."

Slapping the news pad down against the table top, Kit snapped up to his feet. He jabbed an accusing finger towards the droid, "Keep your voice down, you hear? Alright, so he's not exactly intact, but he doesn't need to know that. As for as he and you are concerned, there's nothing wrong with him, and his good buddy Kit the republic vet is here to help him out."

"Vet, master? He is no animal."

With a sigh of frustration, Kit rubbed his temples. He paced towards the droid and shook his head, wondering why he had ever agreed to transport the stupid thing. "Look, just keep your trap shut or I'll have you made into scrap quicker than you can say Corellian sand panther. Are we clear?"

"As a spring day."

He waved off the droid and fell back down into his seat with his data pad and spent the rest of the afternoon reading before dozing off into a dream.

While Kit dozed, happily dreaming of the halcyon days past, Vahid thrashed about in a cold sweat. He was dreaming, but it was no pleasant dream – it was a nightmare. He saw the burrows being over-run by a group of what appeared to be soldiers, all dressed in black. It was like he was one of them – he followed them as they stormed through den after den, destroying the septs with the greatest of ease. After what seemed like an eternity, the group came upon his brothers den and kicked the door down. Vahid saw himself and Hadi turning to look to the troops. As they did, one man stepped forwards and cleaved his brother's head straight off. He tore off his own helmet to reveal no other than Hadi – his face was wrinkled and worn by age or time, but it was definitely him. He threw his head back and laughed, before repeating the decapitation process with Vahid.

"I woke up in a cold sweat, to unfamiliarity. It was dark. Trembling, I sat up – it did not feel as though I was in my own bed, but somewhere else. I couldn't smell the scent of damp, humid earth – had I left the burrows? The last thing I could remember was the floor rushing up to meet me in Hadi's den. Strangely, I felt no pain yet. I swung my legs down out of the cot I was sleeping in, and stood up in the darkness."

"Hello?" Vahid waved his hands out in front of him, as he stepped forward carefully. Groping blindly in front of him, he eventually found a door handle. It was unlocked, so he slowly pulled it aside. What he found himself looking upon then was a shot. It was the interior of a ship. A stout older man was snoring loudly on one side of the room. Moving as quietly as possible, Vahid tiptoed by and looked up and down the length of the room, trying to gauge where he was.

"I didn't know where I was. I was reluctant to think so, but it appeared as if I was on a ship. If I listened closely, I could hear the dull hum of engines in the distance – yes, that confirmed it. But why was I on a ship, and who with, and where was my brother? I had so many questions that I wanted answering, and it seemed as though this man was the only one around to answer them. I wasn't sure how to go about starting my inquiry, though. I was a little worried, in fact. Still, I gingerly approached the sleeping man…"

"There is a 100% chance that is a bad idea."

Vahid whirled around, catching himself on the table in front of Kit. No sooner had he laid eyes on the droid, he was moving towards it. It wasn't often he got to see something like this, and he was going to seize any opportunity to do so. "Why is that?" he asked.

"We are both prisoners."

"Prisoners?! What do you mean?" the Gados blurted out, clamping his hand over his own mouth almost instantaneously. From then on, he spoke in a hushed whisper. Sidling closer to the droid, he stood at its flank, watching the sleeping man.

"A prisoner. One deprived of freedom of expression or action. A person held in custody, captivity, or a condition of forcible restraint." There was a definite tone of sarcasm in the droids voice, that made Vahid look up and frown at it.

"Why are we being held prisoner? Who is that man?"

"The reason for your imprisonment and the deception surrounding it is as follows," the droid said, it's voice then changing to a more human sounding tone – it appeared as though it was playing back something someone else had said. Whoever had said it, had done so with a lot of enthusiasm and bravado. "Lieutentant Kit, you will bring Vahid Hesam to me alive. He is foolishly set in his own ways and will not come freely, but I assure you that in time he will bend to our will." The voice speaking changed then, "Very well, Lord Maelstrom. I will not fail you."

Vahid gaped. This had to be some sort of joke. "You've got to be ki-"

"The reason for my imprisonment is different entirely; however you should not be concerned with that. May I suggest a method of escaping your current situation?" the droid asked.

"Uh… I, well," Vahid rubbed the nape of his neck, trying to work out what was going on. He found himself touching something odd on the back of his head, and winced, "What's this? What's on the back of my head?"

"You were attacked. You have taken multiple injuries, the most serious of which were administered to your head, with what appeared to have been a mace. Traces of the mace as still imbedded in your skull. I am 67% certain that this shrapnel is the cause of your memory loss."

"A mace? Memory loss? I don't understand."

"That is a common trait amongst your species. If we are to escape, we must incapacitate Lieutenant Kit. Please, remove the ties that bind my arms, Vahid Hesam. I will then be able to remove the bolts that keep me attached to the floor and can deal with Lieutenant Kit accordingly."

Blindly, Vahid complied. He set about removed the restraints that held the droids arms in place, when he heard Kit beginning to wake up. Wide-eyed, he looked back to the man upon whom realization was dawning. Rage took over him immeadiately, and he sprung up – accidentally spilling scolding hot stimcaff all down his trousers. Yelping, he was momentarily distracted.

"There! There your arms are out!"

"Thank you, Vahid Hesam. It seems, regrettably." the droid seemed to chuckle to itself, "we will have to resort to plan B to deal with this situation."

"Plan B?"

click-click – Vahid jumped backwards, as two blaster pistols slid out of the droids forearms, it trained them right onto Kit and with four well placed shots sent the man back against the chair. He trembled a moment, smoldering from the impacts. The droid seemed certain that he was dealt with however, and retracted it's weapons. Human instinct kicked in for Vahid, who scrambld across to Kit and tested for a pulse.

"He's dead!"

"Oh. Is he? Oh. My apologies, Vahid Hesam. I appear to have forgotten to set my weaponry systems to stun. Next time!"

"I think it would be safe to say I was feeling vulnerable at this point. This droid had just prooven he was no stranger to killing. In the back of my mind, I wondered why I'd set him free in the first place - after all, he had to be restrained for a reason. It was another one of those spur of the moment decisions, that you regret making split seconds later, but you have to live with for the rest of your life. Looking into those hollow, pulsing red eyes, I couldn't tell whether this would be a change for better or for worse..."

"What now... who's this Lord Maelstrom? Where did you get that recording from?"

"I have no knowledge of who 'Lord Maelstrom' is beyond this recording. I believe I can safely make the assumption that he is not someone you would like to meet, however. Men who keep the sorts of Kit in their service and generally not nice people. Or so I have heard."

Vahid let out a heavy sigh and paced away from the droid, feeling a cold sickness over come him. He ran his palm over his clamy face and sat down by the still smoking body of Kit. Just one glance at him and he felt even more ill.

"What am I supposed to do now then? I don't know where I am..."

"You are on board the Teslacoil, Kit's vessel. As far as I am aware, we are both being transported to 'Lord Maelstrom'. I would advise agaisnt this course of action, however. Especially since you have killed one of his men."

A deep frown cut the Gados face, "I killed him? Who was going on about plan B, hm? I had no hand in this murder. This is your fault. Now you're going to tell me why this man was taking me there, or you'll be scrap quicker than you can say hyperspace."

"My, my, sir. You have rather a lot of nerve, as you would say, for such a scrawny creature. Need I remind you of your situation, and which of us is the armored battle droid carrying numerous onboard weapons?"

A flash of defiance came over Hesam, before he conceeded a crestfallen defeat. He lowered himself back against the seat again, shaking his head, "We need to go back to Selonia. My brother... something might have happened to him," he sighed, rubbing his eyes before standing back up, looking around to try and ascertain where the cockpit was.

"You will find the navigation computer down the corridor, first turn on the left," the 'bot said, watching as Vahid began to walk away before continuing, "However it is useless. You would be wasting your time."

As if expecting this, Vahid just looked back, blanky. "This ship is set on auto-pilot for Coruscant. Without the security codes, there is no way to change our course."

"Then enter the codes, or crack the system. You're a droid. You're meant to be able to do these sorts of things!"

"I am not programmed for such things. My security over-ride programs were removed when I was captured. I know exactly where the codes are, however," the droid paused, as if waiting for Vahid to ask him where. When no such request came, he continued regardless.

"Kit was the only one with knowledge of the codes."

"Oh!" Vahid threw his hands into the air, "Oh! That's so convinient, isn't it? What am I supposed to do? Revive him? 'Alright mate, don't suppose you could come back to life for a second and give us a hand with these codes, could you?' ... frellnik."

"Anger, although more useful than despair, will do little to aide you in this situation. I suggest you get some sleep, Vahid Hesam. It's going to be a long trip to Coruscant."

"I made a hasty retreat to the med-bay. Things had taken a turn for the worse, and sleep actually did sound like a good idea. I lay my head down, folding my arms beneath it as a pillow and was reminded instantly of the wound on the back of my head. In my confusion I'd lost track of my original questions... what had happened back on Selonia and where was Hadi now? I thumbed the scar-tissue absently. There might be one way to find out..."

"Computer?" he asked quietly, looking around the room. Though he had not spent much time around ships, he was under the impression that if you spoke to the computer it would respond and take audio commands. Luckily enough, his assumption was right. The computer responded.

"Yes?" it said, in a strangely human voice.

"Tell me how I came to be on this ship, computer."

There was a moment of silence, "Cannot compute."

Silently, Vahid cursed, "Alright... tell me how I acquired this injury?"

There was a soft whirring, before it replied, "From analysis, I would estimate that a blow to your skull with some manner of blunt barbed weapon knocked you unconscious. This is also responsible for the temporary amnesia you are experiencing, however I predict that within a month it will have healed entirely, pending bacta treatments."

"Amnesia? No one had mentioned that... or had they? If they had, I certainly wouldn't know about it. I felt terrified all of a sudden. Who was on my side? Had I made the right choice freeing the robot? Perhaps he had forged those voice recordings. I had no idea. It made my stomach churn."

"Estimated time of arrival at Coruscant?" he asked.

"Time of arrival is estimated at exactly one day cycle from now."

"Wake me up in twenty hours time, please, computer."

"Very well. Alarm set."

"Oh, and remind me of this conversation and what I'm about to tell you when I wake up."

Slowly, he then explained what had happened with the droid, as a precaution, just in case he did have some sort of amnesia. With that, Vahid lay back down. Sleep wouldn't come yet for hours, because of worrying, but when it did he found himself dreaming. His mind was plagued with bad omens - thoughts of his brothers whereabouts and his own future. He even found himself pitying the people of Selonia, though he couldn't fathom why.

Coruscant had to hold the answers he needed.

“Coruscant. If there was a center to this great universe, this planet was it. As I watched the glittering sphere approach through the ships view screen, I could not help but wonder whether I had made the correct choice in coming here. Then again, it had not been my choice to begin with. Apparently kidnapped and sent to be delivered into the hands of a maniac, my life was now in the hands of others. First, the Lieutenant who had rudely stolen me away from Selonia, and then in the not entirely trustworthy grasp of the droid who awaited my waking in the next room. For some reason, I was important to this ‘Lord Maelstrom’ … I could not yet fathom why.”

Turning from the circular window, the Gados paced towards the med-bay door. After a restless nights sleep, he had awoken once more with only a vague recollection of where he was and how he had gotten there. The previous night, however, he had instructed the ships computer to brief him on his status when he awoke, and it had done as such. He would have entrusted this honor to the droid HK-83, had it not been for the robots untrustworthy nature. Moving out of the ships medical ward and into the lounge, Vahid was greeted with the repugnant smell of rotting flesh.

“It seemed as though in my frantic fervor, I had forgotten about the dead body laying waiting for me. The corpse of Lieutenant Kit was sprawled still in the same place that the droid and I had left it the previous evening. His mouth was agape and his eyes open, hollow and glazed. I was not unaccustomed to the sight of death – I had seen many a dead Selonian, felled in combat – but for some reason this cadaver repulsed me. Deep down, I knew why. The bodies of the beasts on Selonia were, to me, nothing more than the bodies of beasts that would fill the plates at an Abregadon feast. Death, in a humanoid form, struck far closer to my heart…”

“Good morning, Vahid Hesam,” the metallic voice of HK-83 cut the silence, as the assassin droid appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Somewhat distant, Vahid drew himself away from his thoughts to look up into the glowing red eyes of the mechanoid – he could not have appeared any more sinister.

“Estimated arrival time for landing on Coruscant is ten minutes.”

“And where exactly are we landing?” Hesam questioned, absently brushing his fingers over the scars on the back of his head, traces of the attack still shrouded in mystery.

“Coruscant has many commercial spaceports, sir. I imagine we will be landing in one of those bays. There is a small chance, of course, that the ship is headed directly for the personal private hangar of Lord Maelstrom himself.”

A frown creased Vahid’s brow - his sharp eyes darted up, filled all at once with panic and anger.

“I jest,” the droid said. If it could have grinned, it would have, “I know from the data the computer has given me that we are landing in Coruscants busiest regions, known to the locals as the ‘CoCo District’. It is, however, possible that representatives of your captor may be waiting for our arrival. I don’t imagine they would entrust the transport of precious cargo through such a hectic place to an inept bafoon like Kit.”

“Oh? Then why give the man the task of bringing me here in the first place?” Vahid quickly waved a hand through the air, dismissing any answer, “If that is the case, I don’t think it would be wise for you to act aggressively. The last thing we want to do is attract the attention of the wrong sort.”

“Of course, Vahid Hesam. I will file your request under ‘incongruous’. It is dually noted.”

The Gados jabbed an accusing finger at his metal counterpart, “I’d leave you on this ship if I didn’t think you would cause more trouble here than with me.”

“With you, sir? And where exactly do you intend to go once we have landed?”

“The droid had a point. As I saw the skyline of the immense city rising around the ship, I found myself at a loss. Where did I intend to go? A feeling in the pit of my stomach told me that I was expected on Coruscant and that my hosts would not appreciate their cohort being killed. There was little time to think, however, as I felt the ship trembling – presumably adjusting its engines in preparation for landing. Without another word, I began the awkward task of searching Kit’s body.

As much as I disliked having to do it, it seemed a good idea to remove his jacket – somehow I imagined a shirtless, bloodied and bruised, man would be noticeable. Pulling the heavy coat on, I felt the pockets bulging against my body. Closer inspection revealed a blaster, a communicator of some manner and a handful of cards with odd markings on them. The sounds of the planet-side workers voices could be heard over the internal communications system. I knew that the next shake I felt must have been the landing proper.

Putting on a brave face, I followed HK-83 as he approached the ships exit…”

The rush of cold air hit Vahid’s skin like a tidal wave, bringing with it all the sounds of the hub world Coruscant. Mechanic grunts and growls, the churning of a great industrial machine. Even with only this sense alone to base judgment upon, the planet already seemed both awesome and terrifying all in one. Emerging into the great unknown, Vahid Hesam could not help but feel as though he was in for a rough ride. Ahead, the form of the assassin droid was silhouetted against the sun, surrounded by a halo of white light that made Hesam lift a hand to cover his eyes.

“Aside the droid moved aside, I caught my first glimpse of Coruscant – a towering building of some kind, literally buzzing with the energy of the vehicles swarming around it. I had never seen so many transports in all of my life! It was phenomenal. Following traveling partner, I found myself almost tripping and stumbling numerous types, as I tried to maintain a fixed gazed upon the never-ending skyline. I had to remind myself of my current situation to drain away the enthusiasm.

Having only moments ago landed in the hangar bay, I was already in peril. The craft I had arrived was the possession of one Lord Maelstrom, my malefactor thus far. I was, apparently, a precious quantity to him and I had no doubt that somewhere within this sea of people he had accomplishes waiting. Not for me, of course, but Kit, the now dead Lieutenant of Maelstrom himself. Luckily, I was in the accompany of an assassin droid. HK-83, though not the most trustworthy of creations, had thus far done me no wrong. I suspected, however, that his trigger finger was just itching to show the people of Coruscant a little humility.”

“Good afternoon, sir. Welcome to Coruscant. Docking fee, please.”

Vahid whirled around to be greeted by a man wearing an unnerving smile. He was in a uniform of some kind, and was holding his hand out, presumably expecting some form of currency. Bewildered, the Gados looked to his robotic counterpart.

“My apologies, sir,” the droid said in a monotone voice, “My master has been experiencing some difficulties with his central processing unit. Here, master, look inside…”

The droid extended a hand and gave a tug at the coat Hesam wore. The blaster nestled within the breast pocket was momentarily visible as Vahid fished out a handful of the oddly marked cards that Kit had been carrying before coming to an untimely demise. The uniformed man accepted them with a smile, “Thank you, sir. Have a good stay.”

Pacing away, not in any general direction other than away from the ship, Vahid hissed, “He saw the gun. I saw it in his eyes. He’s bound to call some kind of security.”

“Sir, let me inform you as to the practices of the people of Coruscant. It is more likely that he would have called in reinforcements had you not been armed. Most every civilian possesses a sidearm of some kind. I hope this reassures your paranoid delusions.”

“I sneered at the droids sarcastic remark, yet upon glancing around the crowd found that he was right. People passed me by with guns strapped to their wastes or hips, openly in view. Some even carried bladed weapons. Some, I wagered, were large enough to not need a weapon, save for their own fist. As we walked, I found myself jostled between people, barged back and forth. It was disorientating and for a moment I thought I had lost my way, only to find myself plucked out of harms way – narrowly avoiding being swatted aside by the swing of some great elephantine creature.”

“Oh thank you HK-!”

“I turned expecting to be faced with the assassin droid, but instead found only an assassin. A man in dark robes! Panic set in as he dipped his hand down into the folds of the cloth he wore. My instincts set in, as I fumbled for the blaster on my person, but I simply was not quick enough. He drew his weapon as I tried to run, merely colliding with the crowd. Though I cried out for the droid, for help, I was not quick enough – a shot hit my leg. I yelped, stumbling down to my knees, expecting to see blood staining the cuffs of my trousers. Instead, I saw and felt nothing – he stunned me. I pulled myself up to stand, as another loud shot sailed past me-

WAAARUUUUM

-into another pedestrian, knocking them unconscious. I heard then another gun fire – this one I recognized. It was HK-83, struggling through the throng of civilians. His warning shot had provided distraction enough for me to escape the mans line of sight, but I was not in the clear yet. Unable to run, thanks to my now dead leg, I managed to pull myself onto the back of a luggage trolley that was being pulled towards the spaceport interior. Just as I was beginning to feel a mite of sympathy for the droid, I was once again greeted with the sight of my attacker, as he charged through the crowds towards me, his stray shots ricocheting through the air and setting the crowd alight with panic.”

Like every day of his life for the past few years, Ahnk woke up with a sigh. He walked to his refresher and like every day, he looked at himself with loathing and hatred. Today was like any other day.

Except for how Ahnk felt.

For some reason, he felt something in the back of his head. Something was different... something... special, about today.

And when he looked out the viewport at the growing sphere that was Coruscant, he didn't know whether that was good or bad.

And rather then debate the point, he threw himself to his bed and fell asleep.





The comlink on the wall continued to beep incessantly. When it reached a point where he could no longer stand it, Ahnk threw his feet to the floor and pulled his back from the bed.

He pressed the button angrily.

"What is it?"

"Rise and shine, sunshine. It's time to debark. Hey, open this door would you?"

Ahnk sighed and with a waive of his hand, unlocked the door. His arouser strode in, taken aback.

"Whoa. What happened?"

He was of course, referring to the mess in which Ahnk lived. Unconcerned with the formalities that his former life as a despot had required, he unconsciously protested by living in a constant state of mess. He shook his head.

"Nothing happened, Bill. Just life."

His companion nodded, not so much in understanding as in mild dismissal. He gestured to the pile.

"Well, pack it up. We cleared the Imperial blockade and we've landed. The ship is going to take off in a few minutes, so we gotta go."

Ahnk opened the case that was under his bed and placed it on his knees. All around the room, his clothes and belongings began swirling in a tornado, and he smiled as Bill dodged to avoid this or that as it whipped past his head. Eventually he just gave up and ducked, and when he rose, the room was spotless and Ahnk was shutting the case. Bill shook his head.

"You have to teach me how to do that."

Ahnk smirked and they left the room.





The evening air was crisp, but like much of Coruscant, it felt fake. It was impossible to tell how artifical the atmosphere was, but with the bustle of commerce and industry and almost no trees, there was no way it could be maintained naturally. And then there was that Vong attack...

"Ah, Imperial Center. It's been a while since I've been here."

Ahnk nodded. It has been a while since he, too, had been to Coruscant, and it didn't seem to have changed. Ahead of him was still a crowd, annoyed, as the increased security checked them for contraband. Ahnk was, of course, worried that they would find his lightsabers, so he put them on his person and left his blasters, knives, and assorted other tools of the martial sciences in his bag, which would be searched by droids.

As he approached the guard, he breathed a sigh of appreciation to whatever diety was listenining that the guard was an overweight human who looked to be of poor intelligence, hired for his size and the fact that he would work cheap.

"Hello sir, welcome to Imperial Center. May I ask whether your trip to Coruscant is for business or pleasure?"

Ahnk smiled.

"I am here on business."

The guard nodded, signing his form.

"Will you stay long?"

Ahnk shook his head.

"Nope."

The guard ticked his form again and nodded.

"All right, sir, I am going to need to search both your person and your posessions for weapons or contraband."

Ahnk sighed.

"Actually, you don't need to search my person. I look like a trustable person."

The guard passed his bag to the droid behind him.

"Actually, I don't need to search your person, you look like a trustable person."

Ahnk smiled. He grabbed his bag and turned.

"When I get home, I'm going to lose some weight, have some self-respect, and become a more intelligent person."

The guard nodded.

"When I get home..."

And Ahnk walked away, his good deed for the day accomplished.





Ahnk looked up as he felt it, a ripple, a nuance in the universe. Something...

"Hey, what's up?"

And then a shot rang out. Bill shrugged.

"What do you think? Another terrorist?"

Ahnk shook his head. It wasn't.

And then someone fell back, bit with a slug. Ahnk narrowed his eyes, cutting through the crowd and saw...him, someone, hopping on a cart of some sort.

And there was an aura about him... something...

"I gotta handle this."

Bill nodded.

"Need any help?"

Ahnk turned to him.

"We've been over this. I'm not here to be your memory."

Bill shrugged.

"Look, if you really want to help, there is a fold-out rifle in my case. Take it and get some elevation. If they chase someone and they have a gun, shoot them. Don't shoot the guy on the cart, or the guy with the lightsaber. Can you handle that?"

Bill nodded. Before he could reassure him, Ahnk was gone, a trail of barely visible humanity as he moved with all the force he could muster. Bill sighed, and unloaded the rifle.

“Predictably, the luggage cart moved at a snails pace. The driver strained to look over his shoulder at me, shouting something about how I couldn’t use the cart as a private transport, but I wasn’t listening. All of my focus and concentration was fixed on the man in black, and watching his thin form as he slipped through the crowds. Luckily for me, he was having a difficult time charging through the people – if he had been in possession of a blade, things would have been different, but carrying only a blaster meant that to clear the path he’d have to shoot everyone and I doubted that would happen.

I was somewhat fortunate in that I had a clear advantage of my attacker. Though he may have numbed my leg, it was still moveable and I could stand steady without too much effort. As the cart I rode on passed by a small stall, selling souvenirs to the rich and gullible, I sprung upwards. Years spent in the circus, and millennia of evolution, had given me and my species an uncanny acrobatic ability. The canvas that made the roof of the stall further sprung me into the air, and I landed, crouched, on a ledge that ran the perimeter of the terminal.

For a moment, I paused to gain my bearings. Down below, I could see ebbs of panic moving outwards. HK and the assassin would have been causing this, no doubt, but I was unsure as to which was where. Another shot rang out from the crowd, answering my question. I ducked behind a stone pillar, listening and waiting, hoping that HK would drop our attacker before he had the change to get onto the roof.”