A fifteen-year-old colt was riding a speeder, with three blue crates attached to its back.
The past year wasn't fun. He didn't have much luck with easy steals, he had to pick up the stolen items three or four days later just because the Empire had increased the military presence on Lothal.
More troopers were chasing him every time he stole something and he couldn't even use the Force to protect himself, it would only paint a target on his back... Well, a bigger one.
His eyes roamed around the field behind the helmet's visor, there was nothing for a while and his destination was still a ways off.
He could only sigh at the situation, the Empire was making life harder everywhere. But he was still okay, financially, keeping a minimum of three crates always on him for emergency and selling the rest made him amass enough money to stop robbing for a while.
The streets were getting harder for everyone else, some group of idiots tried to rob him... That didn't end well, for them.
Finally, he spotted the hill he was going to, it was a couple of tall, pointy rocks. He knew better, that was the usual point of a trade that happened frequently.
Stopping the speeder next to the rocks, he got off and detached the crates from its back. A good thing these crates were hovering, he wasn't going to drag these things through the dirt.
Pushing the three crates forward he turned to the side, entering a clearing inside the formation of rocks.
"Ghost! My friend! I thought you would not come until later."
A man, a yellow-skinned man with black horns on his head, however, one of the horns was broken halfway down. He wore a gray shirt with gray pants and brown boots.
Around him, were four robots one carrying a solver box while the others were on standby. Absently noting that they were unarmed, he pushed the crates forward to the man.
"I still hate that nickname Vizago."
Colt grumbled silently, but still loud enough to be heard, it was a stupid nickname made up by someone stupid.
"Well, it wasn't me who faked his death."
Colt remained silent but Vizago could feel the deadpan that was sent his way from behind that clone trooper helmet.
"Anyway, Here you go, just like we agreed."
He handed Colt the credits he owed but the teen wasn't done. Not yet.
"Vizago, I need to claim two favors."
He turned around so fast, that Colt thought he heard a crack from his back, his smirk turned into a grin, and his posture turned confident.
"Ah, finally have something you need from me, Well, I will do what I can, my friend!"
...Yeah, he didn't buy that "Friend", bullshit. This was the asshole that tried to kill him on their first trade. Long story short, he needed new droids and a few painkillers in the end.
Colt walked out of it with four favors from him... All in all, just another Tuesday.
"I need to clone trooper armor."
Vizago frowned in thought, putting a hand on his chin.
"Phase one or two?"
"Two."
The horned man hummed slightly in thought before nodding in affirmation.
"I believe I know someone who can get a full set for you, what do you need for the second one?"
Colt reached behind him, getting his blaster from his back. This annoying piece of junk was... an annoying piece of junk. it was awkward, so awkward that he had to hold it with both hands to actually hit something, it resembled an SMG yet was a single fire.
He just needed blasters, and what better blaster than already tested ones?
"I need a DC-17 hand blaster."
Vizago chuckled at him, causing him to raise an eyebrow, that went unseen.
"Is it just me, or are you a fan of Clone troopers?"
Colt scoffed as he started walking back to his speeder. He wasn't a fan of Clone troopers, it was just that their armor was the next best thing to a Mandalorian armor, phase two was better than phase one and more comfortable to wear as well.
And the blaster, he needed something familiar, and that blaster was his best bet, Colt didn't want to risk getting a blaster that could miss at a point blank range.
"Come back in two weeks, my friend! I'll have what you need by then!"
Waving a hand over his shoulder, he turned to the side, walking out of the clearing and to his speeder.
He really needed a shower right about now.
___
Colt walked into his tower, Helmet held in one hand as he ruffled his black hair. It has been six months since he got his crystal. It has been six months since he shut himself off from the force And it showed.
The force was everywhere but it did give certain benefits to those who could wield it, Enhanced reflexes were one of them. He thought that his tough body was the reason he could react fast but that didn't translate to reaction speed.
It just made his body harder to penetrate and him a lot more harder to kill. It didn't enhance his already existing reflexes. It was the force.
Taking off the armor on his arm, he took off his jacket and shirt. Walking to the compartment he kept his clothes in, he took a towel and closed it. There was a mirror on the door and he finally got a good look at himself.
The first two months were the hardest as indicated by the giant cut on his chest, starting from his chest and ending at the abdomen.
His opponent used a vibroblade. Since there was no force to warn him, he paid the price for his arrogance. After that humbling experience, he didn't start using the force, since he was incompetent without the force, he needed to fix that, so he did.
On his shoulder was a burn mark, a trooper got lucky, once, and he didn't.
Turning around He left for the bathroom. He needed some fresh water anyway.