"My?"
"Yes?"
"I have a bad feeling about this."
"Bo?"
"Yes?"
"You have a bad feeling about everything. Remember death sticks?"
"Unfortunately." the young man hid his scaly face so Myra wouldn't be able to see the regret.
"Look where that got you." said Myra, patting him in the back as she spoke.
"Disowned by my family and turned to a life of crime. And a death stick addict." he replied.
"You depressing bastard. You gotta look at the bright side."
"What bright side?" he raised his voice a little.
"Well, there's um... honestly I thought I'd come up with something. There's no bright side. I apologize." she said with sincerity. He sighed heavily and raised his head again.
"Whatever. Let's just get it over with."
Myra looked away from him and went back to concentrating on their job. In front of them was a crate full of weapons which they were going to sell to Republic forces. At least that was what the Republic thought. The only working blaster was the one they were going to use for demonstrating. Everything else was a perfect replica and a useless one at that.
"We should've chosen another planet." she complained.
"The weather isn't that bad." said Bo.
"'Cause you thrive in this environment, Bo. People like me suffer in extreme heat."
Tatooine was a desert planet. Nothing but sand all around them with the occasional town or outpost in the distance. At least it was better than Jakku. Tatooine was paradise when compared to Jakku.
She'd put on her hood, but she was already sweaty enough. Her dark clothing was not suited for this environment and the hood would probably speed up the chances of a heatstroke.
"Think Watto is gonna fall through?" asked Bo.
"He better. We DID promise him a cut from what we get."
"Hey. See the glimmer? Northeast."
"I see it." she said without moving her head, only glancing at it. It was right in above a cliff near one of Tatooine's mountains. Sniper most likely, already a bad sign.
"Remember the phrase? In case shit hits the fan?" she asked.
"Don't worry. I remember." he assured her.
"Good. Just hope they don't block communications."
"You see. Now you just jinxed it." said Bo with a hint of worry in his voice.
"Heads up." she said.
Above them a small ship began to descend, it's engine roaring until it landed where it completely shut off. The side doors opened and three figure emerged from it; two men and a woman. They all wore military outfits. Naboo military outfits. Now she was worried.
"There's someone else on that ship." she whispered.
"Droid?" asked Bo.
"Doubt it. Let's just play along." she said and cracked a smile as she finished.
"Hello there." she said.
"Greetings." saluted the man in the middle, clearly the one in charge.
"H-hi." Bo stuttered and nearly dropped the weapon he was holding. He fiddled with it for a bit until he held it firmly once more.
"Let's get down to bidness." Myra approached the crate and removed the lid, revealing dozens of blasters lined up from end-to-end.
"Blaster pistols. Pretty good rate of fire. High accuracy at short to mid-range distance. Low chance of overheating." she explained while taking away Bo's blaster -- the only real blaster -- and showed it off to the Naboo officers.
"May I?" asked the same man. Myra nodded and handed him the blaster.
"No, no. I'll take one from the crate."
"Nuh-uh. You haven't bought those yet." she stepped in front of him before he reached into the crate. "This one isn't for sale, you can check this one out. Works just as well as these."
The officer scoffed and reluctantly took the weapon from her hands. He carefully inspected it, making sure it was a real piece.
"If I may--"
"Go right ahead." she cut him off. Myra knew he was going to ask if he could shoot off a couple rounds, they always did.
"What would you say is a good target?" he asked.
"See those rocks? One hectometer away? I'd say it's in its range."
"Indeed it would be." he said suggestively and turned the weapon against her. "What's to stop me from shooting you right here and now? Take all the weapons. Or maybe leave you to the Raiders."
"Myra?" Bo was panicking.
"Would you do me a favor and look at that cliff? Right over there?" she pointed northeast which was southwest for him.
There it was, that glimmer. She was thankful the sniper was still there. Now it was a matter of who's sniper it was; theirs or someone else's.
"Sniper on overwatch. Clever." the man smiled and lowered his gun. The shooter wasn't with them. So who did it belong to?
"You shoot us, he shoots you."
"But how good is he?"
Myra picked up one of the replicas and lifted it above her head as though she were showcasing it. She hoped that whoever it was that was there hated her enough that they wanted to kill her up close -- IF they were after her. For once, she prayed it was someone that had a grudge.
With all her might, she threw the weapon up in the air. Its descent was eternal. It spinned mid-air and then it suddenly exploded right next to her. Bo let out a squeal and the Naboo people flinched. Myra would've flinched as well but she had to keep up the poker face. She looked in the direction where the shot came from and slowly mouthed 'thank you' to the shooter.
"He's good enough." she grinned. The man drew a long and raspy breath and took aim at the rocks instead.
"You know. I heard about your crew once." said the man as he got into a firing position. "There's supposed to be another person right? Pilot if I'm not mistaken. Helps you guys get away when you've successfully sold fake weapons." He pulled the trigger and hit his mark.
"Don't know what you're on about. How's the gun?" she attempted to steer the conversation.
"I'd say it's just fine..." he turned to face her, "...Ms. R'tas."
"Myra?" asked Bo in a full panic this time.
Myra chuckled to herself, ignoring the gazes of everyone around her.
"The Separatists made me do it." she said. The officers looked confused, confused enough that they didn't see her move her hand and use the Force to conjure up a dust devil.
Bo and Myra pulled out rags that they had hidden in their clothes to cover their mouth and nose. The hum of an engine drew closer. A small transport ship landed right in front of them. Grey and dull in color with most parts rusted, but it got the job done. In this case the job being getting them the hell out of there.
"Liya, get us out of here." she ordered as she entered.
"That was faster than I expected." said the woman in the cockpit.
"Just fly."
"Yes ma'am." she replied sarcastically. "Ummm... we're stuck."
"What do you mean we're stuck?!" exclaimed Bo.
"It means we're stuck!" Liya yelled in frustration.
"Jedi." Myra muttered. "It's a damn Jedi."
"How do you even know that?" asked Liya.
"We're not EMP'd right? We're in a desert so getting stuck is impossible."
"Can Jedi even move a ship?" asked Liya.
"There are stories of Jedi pulling down carriers, a shitty cargo ship wouldn't be too much of a problem."
"Myra R'tas!" yelled someone outside, their voice muffled by the ship. Banging followed soon after.
"Get Watto. Now." she ordered.
"He's not responding." said Liya.
"Son of a bitch probably sold us out." she said while trying to hold in her anger. "Get back."
"What are you gonna do?" asked Bo.
"I'm gonna open the door for them."
"What did she say?" asked Liya from the cockpit.
"She said she's gonna open the door." replied Bo.
"Like 'open the door' open the door? Or 'OPEN the door' open the door?" asked Liya.
"'OPEN the door' open the door." she replied. "I'm gonna come out! Don't shoot!" she yelled out.
"Wait." Bo stopped her. "What if you kill someone?"
"It's us or them, Bo." she replied and he nodded hesitantly.
Myra summoned up as much of the Force as she could and released the blast, tearing off the door from the tiny ship and launching it.
"It's open now! You can come for me!" she taunted. She waited a while, no answer. "We're outta here." she told Bo.
"Myra." Bo called out to her and pointed at something behind her. She forgot about the Jedi. Myra slowly turned around and saw nothing. That is until she looked down. A tiny green figure came into the ship, limping on a stick.
"Are we high on death sticks right now?" she asked.
"No." replied Bo.
"Then why am I seeing a tiny green goblin?"
-- A FEW WEEKS LATER --
"Myra R'tas. You escaped the Jedi Order eight years ago and have since committed nearly every crime known to the galaxy. You've allied yourself with crime syndicates, robbers, all kinds of criminals really. All while using what you learned here as a youngling and the little time you spent as Master Luminara's apprentice. Anything you have to say for yourself?" The mocha skinned bald man basically gave everyone her life story.
"In all fairness, I was not expecting the midget to be a Jedi. Caught me totally off guard."
The Jedi that caught her was the one known as Yoda. Myra had heard of him before but she'd never actually seen him. With all his exploits one would've expected him to be... taller, to say the least. Rumor had it that he once took on the Nightsisters and came out on top. Considering he was sitting right in front of her it was probably true -- if it even happened in the first place.
12 Jedi sat on the council. Some holograms, some physically there. The only other Jedi she recognized was Obi-Wan Kenobi, the only Jedi to have killed a Sith in who knows how many years.
The view from up here was rather splendid, it was probably the tallest building Coruscant. All it did was remind the citizens who had real control here.
"Two options you have." spoke Yoda, his voice like it was eternally cracking while he gargled on something. His voice annoyed her a little but what annoyed her more was that his sentences were all messed up.
"Any of them include walking out of here and pretending this never happened?" she asked sarcastically.
Though the room was spacious, her voice did not echo which did surprise her a little.
"It's like dealing with another Anakin, but somehow worse." said Kenobi.
"Thank you. I take pride in my sarcasm." she grinned at him and he simply shook his head in disappointment.
"Two options I said." repeated Yoda.
"Have at it then."
"To prison you can go, pay for your crimes you will."
"Or?"
"A padawan you will become once again."
"Either way I end up in a prison."
"Ms. R'tas please do not disrespect Master Yoda. Were it not for his council we would've put you away for life." threatened the bald one.
"Well both options are shit." she replied. "Clearly you want me to choose the latter because I at least get some semblance of freedom."
"But?" asked Yoda.
"If I may, I'd like some conditions."
"What makes you think we're going to listen to what you want after all your crimes?" asked the bald one. Again. He was getting on her nerves.
"Nevermind then itty bitty titty."
"Silence. Both of you." ordered Yoda. "Your conditions." he gestured her to go on.
"My friends. Where are they?"
"Prison." he replied.
"They walk."
"Anything else?" the bald one again.
"I'm talking to your boss here."
"Master Windu." Yoda appeased the man before he started arguing with Myra. He sighed heavily and chose to stay silent instead.
"I get my own place. I don't wanna stay in the Temple."
"Your first condition agree on it we can. The second we cannot. Escaped from the Order you have before. A chance we will not take."
"Figured as much." she sounded disappointed, and she was. Myra knew it was a stretch to ask for something like that.
"Master Luminara still remember me?" she asked.
"Master Luminara will no longer be your master." said Windu. Myra swore she saw his lips twitch, as if he wanted to laugh in her face.
-- INSERT STAR WARS TRANSITION HERE --
The ride here was awkward if anything. Master Windu, the man that had pissed Myra off in front of the Council, had been the one to come along with her. They ended up in a high rise apartment in the middle of the slums. At least it looked like the slums to her. Compared to the rest of Coruscant this place looked like a shitshow. On the way they passed all kinds of people and creatures she hadn't seen before. She traveled a lot but the fact that she still hadn't seen everything surprised her a little. Myra felt right at home though. She spent so much time around criminals that these "slums" actually made her feel comfortable.
"This is it." Windu pointed out. He stopped in front of a silver door that clearly had been through a lot. It had scratches all over and there was a dent that had been fixed, and a poor job at that it was still pretty noticeable. Master Windu knocked on the door and waited.
It took nearly two minutes for the door to open. Out came a man in rumpled Jedi robes. He had a bad case of bed head and it looked like he had barely woken up. He inspected both of them. First he bowed at Master Windu and he returned the gesture. Then he looked at Myra.
"That baby is not mine. I pulled out. Have a nice day." he said abruptly, and in a drunken state. His accent sounded like Kenobi's, but his was... off.
"That is not why we're here, Master Chikara. I came to bring this young girl to you." clarified Windu.
"Master Windu, when did you turn into such a pimp?" He leaned on his door, changing his attitude from a few seconds ago and had a smile that freaked her out. That smile revealed some pretty nasty teeth, at least she knew he wasn't one for personal hygiene.
"Please tell me he's not the one." she pleaded.
"Master Chikara, it's a pleasure to see you again." said Windu, obviously lying. His voice said one thing but his mannerisms said another thing.
"Fine, I'll bite. What is this about?" his smile faded.
"This is Myra R'tas. Your new padawan." said Windu. Both Myra and the other Jedi groaned heavily.
"I thought I told you guys I don't want any padawans. There are dozens of other Jedi that need a padawan."
"I don't want to be this guy's apprentice. He looks like the kind of guy that'll do something disgusting in my sleep."
They complained at the same time.
"I'll leave you two so you can acquaint yourselves." Windu ignored both of them and started to walk away. "Oh, right. Have her back at the Jedi Temple before nightfall." he said without turning back.
"I'd rather knock you the eff out." they said in unison. They both glared at each other, neither of them liked that they had the same thought.
"Come on in." he gestured.
She reluctantly entered his home and suddenly retched. His house smelled like... something. She didn't know what and she sure as hell didn't want to know.
"Now that's just rude. Someone shows hospitality and you do that as soon as you come in? Youth these days."
"I wouldn't have to if this place didn't smell like a sewer that somehow took a shit." she retorted as she wiped the tears that swelled up in her eyes.
"Manners girl, manners. It doesn't matter how disgusting someone's house smells, you hold that in."
The living room was cluttered and reeked of alcohol. It reminded her of a garbage dump. In the center of all the mess was a chandelier. Last she checked, chandeliers hung up in the ceiling. Myra looked up and sure enough, there was a gaping hole on the roof, she could even see the room above. 'My condolences to the tenants upstairs'. she thought to herself.
"Have you ever been to a Hutt's house?" he asked. He threw off some of the mess and revealed a couch underneath then gestured her to sit there.
"No, but I've done... business with them." Myra slowly sat on the couch, trying desperately to hide her disgust.
"You think this place smells like hammered shit? Wait till you visit one of them."
"I thought Jedi didn't swear." said another voice. A heavy voice, like something out of a nightmare.
Next to her, the mess started to rise with a groan. It sat upright, but it still towered over her.
"Your mess gained sentience." she told Chikara.
"That's just Ilmig." he said nonchalantly.
Myra turned back to the pile of trash. She saw an arm come out of one of its sides and removed the cloth covering its face. Underneath was a chestnut colored man with a beard that was somehow longer than her hair and deep black eyes that sent shivers down her spine.
"Master Ilmig Gloin. Pleasure." the man said, a lot more drunk than Chikara was.
"You're a Jedi?" she asked surprised.
"So they say." he forced himself to get off the couch and started to walk away. "I need your bathroom. Must. Throw. Up."
"Down the hall, first door on the left." said Chikara from what Myra assumed was his kitchen. Ilmig proceeded to limp his way to the bathroom.
"I'd offer something to drink, but all I have is booze and you're a minor so I guess you'll have to manage."
"Why are you so sure I'm a minor?"
"Woman's intuition."
"But you're not a woman?"
"I stand by what I said."
Myra was about to speak when she suddenly heard the other man throw up. He simply let go of everything, it was like he had a microphone next to him. Myra couldn't hold back a face of disgust.
"I wanna leave." she muttered.
"So. What brought you to my humble home?" Chikara walked to the living room, but instead of clearing up the mess, he simply sat on it.
"Got caught."
"Caught? Let me guess, Jedi mind trick?" he smiled a little, probably in hopes of hearing that he guessed right.
"In a manner of speaking. Never actually made it that far in training."
"Wait, you were training before?" he asked and she nodded.
"I ran away a couple days after Master Luminara took me as an apprentice."
"Master Luminara? Green skin, penchant for black?"
"More or less." Chikara nodded in surprise.
"Alrighty then," he began, "the Order is going to expect me to give them updates on... whatever, I guess. So, as long as we set our stories straight you can go about your business and I mine."
"Bold."
"Have you got any better ideas?"
"At the moment, no. But I wouldn't make a plan where anyone can poke holes."
"You'll manage."
"Hey." she stood up and almost slipped because of something she stepped on.
"I don't like this any better than you do. I left the Order, okay? I didn't want to be part of it, but now I was basically forced back in and I got paired with an idiot who can't cover all his bases in such a simple lie!" she exclaimed.
"Quiet down. It hurts." said Ilmig from the other room.
Chikara stood up and stared her down, not taking his eyes away for a moment.
"Oh behave." he said with a grin, suddenly changing his mood.
"I swear to -- ugh!" she yelled in desperation.
"You want me to cover my bases? Fine. Your first job as my apprentice is to make a hangover cure for that guy." he ordered and pointed in the general direction Ilmig was in.
"What the hell is does that have to do with Jedi training?!"
"Use the Force, Myra. Use the Force to make it, don't touch anything."
Myra released a long and heavy sigh and sat back down in defeat.
"I should've chosen jail time." she regretted.