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Trouble, Destiny, and Other Complications - AU: Caught

STAR WARS: The Old Republic > English > Community Content > Fan Fiction
Trouble, Destiny, and Other Complications - AU: Caught

frauzet's Avatar


frauzet
07.16.2016 , 04:19 PM | #11
Quote: Originally Posted by MishaCantu View Post
Most excellent and a clever way to intersect the warrior story. The future has endless possibilities. Keep it coming.
Thank you!

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#6
Does a trap keep the mouse in? Or does it keep the cat out? None of my slightest movements slip the Sith’ attention.

“How often?” he asks.

“Huh?” I have no idea what he wants.

“How often has Knash used setting six? How often have you passed out?”

Am I a lab rat, or what? “Didn’t count. Math isn’t my pet issue.” Let him ask the jailer.

Have you ever traveled rooftops at night? Iz used to call me crazy. During my youth choice was an illusion. There was either the carrot or the stick. I hated being the beast of burden. Atop our little world I could at least pretend to be free. I love the moment before the jump. When the crescendo of your heartbeat drowns out the beat of your feet on the tar paper. You’re too fast to stop. The gaping darkness below waits for you to miss the right spot to jump. No turning back. This time I slipped, and I have fallen deep.

The Sith’ hands fiddle with the remote to my shock collar. He doesn’t push the button.

My neck begins to hurt. My feet tingle. When you pass out your body doesn’t care whether your cell is too small to lie down. My posture prevents proper blood circulation in several strategical points. I struggle to a sitting position. Gives me something else to concentrate on than the karking Sith with the kriffing remote.

“You’re not very cooperative for someone who’s already experienced six. Did anyone ever care enough to submit you to an intelligence test?” He smirks. “No? Figures! It’s hard to test something nonexistent.”

I am not afraid! The jailer didn’t break me, and the Sith won’t either! I am not afraid! “Go fu—”

“Yes, yes,” he interrupts me. “You already said that.” He holds up the remote, looks at it, then at me. “How much more do you think you can take? Everyone has their limits. Everyone breaks eventually.”
Author of "Trouble, Destiny and Other Complications" and the AU "Caught"
Participant of the "Short Fic Weekly Challlenge Thread!"
All my stories from TDaOC and SFWC in chronological order

frauzet's Avatar


frauzet
07.21.2016 , 03:55 PM | #12
#7
I stare into the Sith’ unblinking eyes. My defiance is show. We both know he speaks the truth. Given enough pressure you either bend or you break. I don’t want to do either. Least of all I want to bend to be broken afterward, once the kriffing Sith got what he wanted. You can’t trust a Sith. It’s a law of nature or something. Not that I would be able to help him even if I wanted. I was just a hired muscle on this expedition. Everyone who knew what they were doing is already dead.
Author of "Trouble, Destiny and Other Complications" and the AU "Caught"
Participant of the "Short Fic Weekly Challlenge Thread!"
All my stories from TDaOC and SFWC in chronological order

frauzet's Avatar


frauzet
07.23.2016 , 12:42 PM | #13
#8
“We can do this the easy way,” the Sith says, “or we can do this the hard way. Your choice.”
Here we go, the stick and the carrot. Only it will probably be the stick now, or the stick later. So far I can’t smell any carrots. The only noteworthy smell here is my own. Even the flies take a detour to avoid my cell. I clear my throat, which kriffing hurts. I’d kill for a glass of fresh cool water. “Great! You get what you want, or you get what you want. Cool! Where exactly is my karking choice?”
For an answer, he raises the remote. His thumb twitches. His stare bores holes into my skull. The rumors can’t contain much truth. Force users can’t read your mind. He would not need to torture me if he were able to do that, correct? Right now, though, I can tell the Sith’ thoughts as clearly as mine. He – is - KARKED. Big letters. Knash hasn’t left him with any room to maneuver. He can’t use setting seven, because he needs me unmaimed to pass his trial. I can stand six for longer than he can afford. Otherwise he’d have already made me scream a few minutes ago.
I scoff. “You press that button now, or Knash presses that button later. A few more painful gasps of air in between don’t make much of a difference.” Only I DO want to breathe for a bit longer. Not being afraid of death isn’t the same as wanting to die. For some reason the Sith believes I can open the tomb. I can’t. But maybe I can bluff my way out of this cell. Hope dies last.
Author of "Trouble, Destiny and Other Complications" and the AU "Caught"
Participant of the "Short Fic Weekly Challlenge Thread!"
All my stories from TDaOC and SFWC in chronological order

MishaCantu's Avatar


MishaCantu
07.23.2016 , 01:19 PM | #14
Desperation can make strange bedfellows and our caged friend has nothing to lose. Good stuff, waiting for more.

Lunafox's Avatar


Lunafox
07.24.2016 , 12:13 AM | #15
I just love how his personality shines through the entries. And the descriptions along with it are brilliant. So to the point, riveting and amazingly revealing. Keep it up
Lunafox's Stories🌙🦊Lunafox's Decorating
Koona t'chuta, Solo?
Quote: Originally Posted by Rion_Starkiller View Post
omg Darth Lunafox in the house

frauzet's Avatar


frauzet
07.26.2016 , 11:09 AM | #16
Quote: Originally Posted by MishaCantu View Post
Desperation can make strange bedfellows and our caged friend has nothing to lose. Good stuff, waiting for more.
At least he's got nothing to gain from remaining in his cage. So far he's fighting tooth and nail to keep what's left of his dignity and pride.

Quote: Originally Posted by Lunafox View Post
I just love how his personality shines through the entries. And the descriptions along with it are brilliant. So to the point, riveting and amazingly revealing. Keep it up
It's astonishingly easy to write. Thorns and I may hove more in common than I had thought. At least I can say that he's even more stubborn than me.

Thank you both for your kind comments. It's great encouragement, and truly appreciated.

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#9
I spent most of my life in cities. Can’t say I care much for architecture, though. Still, I must admit the Sith Academy is impressive. Most of all because it simply gives me the creeps. I am almost glad I was unconscious on my way in. The Sith leads our way through corridors and halls. The place bustles with people. Couple of higher ranking Sith, a greater number of acolytes heading to or from their classes, and slaves — countless slaves. Korriban was build with blood, blood rebuild the temples, and blood still keeps them from falling apart.

On the Sith leads, and I strain to keep up. My circuit training suffered from the small diameter of the cell. We leave the Academy and enter a dig site, probably a tomb. I pay attention to the maze he takes me into. The gazes of the guards at the entry follow us. They probably don’t see many Sith down here. Two turns right, one left. We walk past lines of slaves transporting debris to the outside. Give me one of the baskets they are carrying and I don’t stand out much. We reach a door. The Sith tells me to wait. He will take five minutes inside. Sure, I’ll wait. It’s not like I have other places to be.

Carefully I run my fingertips over the shock collar at the back of my neck. No Knash here to punish me for it. The model feels like those I see on the slaves. I have seen similar ones on Nar Shaddaa. They lack a sensor to measure the distance to their remote control. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. If I am mistaken, this is going to hurt. Of the few people, who pass me, none take special notice. The last one turns the next corner. I look left, I look right. Nobody. I start to retrace my steps. I hurry, but I don’t run. I mirror the pace of the slaves.
Author of "Trouble, Destiny and Other Complications" and the AU "Caught"
Participant of the "Short Fic Weekly Challlenge Thread!"
All my stories from TDaOC and SFWC in chronological order

MishaCantu's Avatar


MishaCantu
07.27.2016 , 12:29 AM | #17
I must say the guy has a pair. He really is in a pan vs fire situation though. Can't wait to see if this little ploy works.

frauzet's Avatar


frauzet
07.30.2016 , 05:07 PM | #18
Quote: Originally Posted by MishaCantu View Post
I must say the guy has a pair. He really is in a pan vs fire situation though. Can't wait to see if this little ploy works.
I guess he has
Your comment made me grin. I used the pan/fire idiom in part #11 (I am a bit behind on posting here).

But first comes #10. Hope you enjoy.

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#10
Trouble does often give warning in advance. No reason to complain. On the contrary! I admit, I may have ignored those warnings often enough. But this time, honestly, I’d have appreciated some hints a bit earlier. One moment I am walking in line with the slaves, my face hidden behind a basket, happy I actually managed to get out of the tomb, when in the blink of an eye the rest of the line evaporates miraculously, and I am left standing alone, facing two approaching guards, rifles at the ready. My arms hurt from carrying the basket. If I try to throw the damned thing at one of the guards, I risk squashing my own feet. Drop it and run? The wall to my left sports a generous amount of hand- and footholds. Doable despite the muscles in my arms already trembling. BlasTech rifles have a capacity of 120 - 250 shots; can’t identify the model positively. Even if the guards were the worst shots ever, the best estimate leaves my remains decorating the wall in countless new little blast holes. I take a few tentative steps back. With the debris inside, the basket at least provides a modicum of cover.

“Look whom we have here…” someone greets me from behind. I have almost forgotten about the guards at the tomb’s entrance. I am getting the sense they haven’t been watching the Sith earlier. Granted, sometimes you just don’t get the warning.

“You didn’t think you could hide behind that beard, did you?” front left asks.

The beard? Kind of grew of its own accord. Nobody around whom I’d have trusted to give me a shave. And though my hair has grown, too, a large portion of my tattoo must still be showing. If someone were looking for me, they’d keep an eye out for that. Only, why would someone be looking for me here on Korriban? Who would bribe Imperial guards to catch me? I got a great memory for faces. I don’t know these men, never seen them before. The lump in my guts tells me they won’t care. As I try to turn, the first punch hits my lower back. As usual my guts are right.
Author of "Trouble, Destiny and Other Complications" and the AU "Caught"
Participant of the "Short Fic Weekly Challlenge Thread!"
All my stories from TDaOC and SFWC in chronological order

Lunafox's Avatar


Lunafox
07.30.2016 , 07:05 PM | #19
Looks like he's in a pickle now. I'm looking forward to see him getting out of it. I like his train of thought about the rounds in the weapon, so calculating I love it! ^^
Lunafox's Stories🌙🦊Lunafox's Decorating
Koona t'chuta, Solo?
Quote: Originally Posted by Rion_Starkiller View Post
omg Darth Lunafox in the house

frauzet's Avatar


frauzet
07.31.2016 , 04:02 PM | #20
Quote: Originally Posted by Lunafox View Post
Looks like he's in a pickle now. I'm looking forward to see him getting out of it. I like his train of thought about the rounds in the weapon, so calculating I love it! ^^
Thank you! Thorns hasn't had a formal education, but he knows a thing or two about weapons.

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#11
I feel almost grateful for Knash’s torture. Almost. The current pain pales in comparison to the electrocutions. But these guys want to make me suffer. And they’re making a good job of it. They don’t overdo it. No chance to pass out. I stopped struggling a few punches ago. Two of them hold me upright, the other two take turns. This will last a loooong time. After a while only me and the pain are left. Its ebbs and flows hide a story. I will figure it out eventually. Or maybe I won’t. Doesn’t make a difference.

“That’s enough!” someone orders.

The voice resonates with an authority even my dulled senses are unable to ignore. I have trouble to process the meaning of the words, though, and so do the guards, obviously. Two more punches before a shock from my collar courses through my body. The two men holding me release me with a startled yelp. The shock stops immediately as I crumple to the ground. Thank you very much! I lack the energy to feel annoyed.

“I said, that’s enough,” the voice repeats. Sounds like my Sith has caught up to me.

“Apologies, my Lord,” someone says. Has to be one of the guards. Sincerity sounds different. Call me spiteful, but I wish the Sith would make them feel sorry indeed. “This slave is a criminal; a thief, and a murderer,” the man continues to explain. I’d ask him to slow down if it somehow seemed like a better idea. I am okay with the criminal. I earned that. Thief? Cling together, swing together! Not much leeway here. Murderer? We’re not talking about my youth, are we? If we’re not, then I call it self-defense. And just for your information: a shock collar around your neck doesn’t make you a slave.

The Sith, like Knash for that matter, doesn’t know either. “I am well aware of who this slave is, Captain, thank you!” he replies. Why do people think they know you after a conversation of hardly two sentences? “He was placed into my custody. He has a task to fulfill, and I will see to it, that he does. This service is part of the atonement for his malefactions to the Sith. You do want him to atone, don’t you, Captain?” Hiding behind words normal people are unable to spell doesn’t put you in the right. Can he convince the guards there is some backup behind the hot air he produces?

“Of course! But we saw him enter with you, acolyte,” the captain replies. The change of honorific doesn’t bode well. “He came out alone. You let him escape. It was our duty to detain him.” Gone was any sign of reverence. Does a captain outrank an acolyte? Do I hope for the fire or the frying pan?

“It was a test,” the Sith states matter-of-factly. The tip of a boot nudges my ribs, makes me groan. I squint. Despite the chill wind Korriban’s sun glares as bright as those of Tatooine. The Sith towers over my prone body. Earlier he somehow looked smaller. He continues his explanation. “Good sense of orientation, street smart. He got further than I had anticipated. I have to thank you, Captain, for adding a valuable lesson to his education.” I am in no condition to evade the next kick to my ribs. It hurts, but more due to the overall soreness of my body than the force behind it. I am a prop in a play. The Sith ignores me as he goes on. “When Darth Baras ordered me to take this piece of filth along, I was in doubt whether the slave could be of any use. I shouldn’t have doubted Darth Baras’ wisdom. You certainly agree, Captain, don’t you?”

“Of course, my Lord,” the Captain hurries to confirm. Darth Baras’ name carries weight. Clever, Sith! Couldn’t have done that better. The guards know to challenge him is to challenge this Baras guy.

“Get up!” the order is directed at me.

The try makes me groan again.

“If you need help, I am willing to lend you a hand.” He raises the one holding the remote to my shock collar.

While I struggle to get up, I notice the men who held me rub their arms. The Sith sees it, too. He smiles at them. His teeth flash in the sunlight. “Gentlemen. You should consider to buy Jailer Knash a beer. He undertook it to ensure some familiarity between the slave and setting six.” Yeah, I am sure he’ll appreciate the gesture.
Author of "Trouble, Destiny and Other Complications" and the AU "Caught"
Participant of the "Short Fic Weekly Challlenge Thread!"
All my stories from TDaOC and SFWC in chronological order