A Lone Survivor

A+Lone+Survivor

Ishan Saleh '25

 

The Pod Champion Inn is never really too packed, but it’s different today. Dozens of customers, laughing and drinking while music blares over it all. Trying to serve drinks with all this noise is a nightmare, but a gal needs her credits. Order, serve, order, serve, order, serve. That’s the pattern I have, and it’s a pattern I wanna live by.

You see all manner or creature here. Twi’lek, Jabba, Gungans, Togruta, Human. Everyone from all corners of the galaxy come by for a swig and a place to sleep. After all, Coruscant’s lower levels are dangerous. Never know what, bounty hunter will come up and blast your brains out. But nothing really dangerous happens around here. The inn’s a “No violence zone.” Anything remotely dangerous gets shoved out the door by me.

Sentinel’s are good at that. A few imperials pass through when they’re on break. Never really had a grudge on em, even if they killed all the masters, knights, and padawans. I blame the emperor for that. Besides, I can use my unique talents for pay. Speak of the devil, a Mandalorian comes up to me and asks “You the silent outcast?” I nod in response.

He hands me a holo recorder and a small man shines out. “Good day, my name is Garril Sun, CEO of Sunstreak podracers. I require your delicate touch for business matters. Extermination of one of my rivals. Information will be supplied via datapad,” he says before disappearing. The Mando hands me a datapad and leaves as abruptly and he entered.

I explain to my boss the contract and he lets me leave early for the day to finish my business. The streets of Mos Eisley are as lively as the desert is dry. Merchants bartering, someone getting mugged, an Imperial arresting someone. Never a quiet day in this town. The apartment I rent isn’t far from the market place, which is convenient. Makes getting groceries easier. I head up the stairs, wave to a few of my neighbors, and head inside to read the datapad.

“Silent Outcast. We require your skills in eliminating my companies rival. Genda Podracers CEO, Genda Trigol. He will be hosting a large party for his investors, and we have secured you an invitation as Onla Vel, the famous Arkanian scientist and engineer. My contact on Coruscant will hand over your invitation and necessary clothing. We’ll send a chauffeur when you arrive. Oh, and don’t worry about your silence, your silent nature was explained as losing your speech as a young child from a laboratory accident. And, if possible, try to hide your lightsaber. It will make sneaking in much harder,” the datapad read.

Well, playing the part of a scientist shouldn’t be hard. Already been
one for years, but the lightsaber bit’s gonna be a bit harder. Well, my master taught me stealth, so I’ll figure something out. Coruscant eh? Man, it’s been years since I was last there. My last memories of the place were my years as a sentinel. But, now’s not the time to reminisce about the good ol’ days, a job needs to get done. I head to the docking bay and go through all customs before I head for Coruscant. The customs does it’s usual, “Where are you going?What’s the purpose of your visit?” Etcetera etcetera. It’s hard to answer when you can’t talk, but it isn’t too much of a hassle.

And before I even know it, I’m off planet and on the surface of Coruscant. Customs is as tedious as always, but doesn’t take too long. And, like the datapad says, there’s a chauffeur waiting for me. He’s a human, wearing a suit and tie standing in front of what I assume to be my ride. “Miss Tambrien?” he asks.

I nod in confirmation and he hands me my clothes. “These will be your garments for tonight, I have already gone to the liberties of securing you a secure communication line with my
superior and identification to confirm your identity when arriving at the designated venue,” he says.

Wow. He had no reason to be so over the top. I nod slowly and awkwardly enter the speeder. It seems the back seat has a bit of privacy, so I decided to change into my disguise. The clothing provided was a sleek black dress, a couple of rings, and a necklace that I think is made of bescar. For what reason, I can’t say. I look pretty good in this getup. It’s nice dolling up once in a while.

Not too long after I dress up, we arrive at the venue. A large building with music blasting inside. I wave the driver goodbye, and quickly slip inside the part without anyone noticing thankfully. Everyone’s mingling, drinking, and laughing the night away while the target sits in a booth far away from everyone else.

Should be an easy job. I weave my way past all the part guests, and make my way to the lonesome man, sneaking up behind him. Before I reach him I reach for my mask, placing it over my jaw and mouth. Any witnesses left alive shouldn’t be able to identify me with this on. The mask clasps onto my silver metallic skin with a quiet and sharp steam blow. I grab one of my sabers and put it up to his neck. Suddenly his arm grabs mine and he throws me into a wall, a saber igniting in his hands.

Ha. A force sensitive. Great. I wipe the blood from my lips and force my saber back to my hand, igniting the second one quickly. The red and yellow hues are enchanting. Before he can move I dash low to the ground and try to sweep his legs, but he reads me and jumps to
avoid my strike. He comes down to strike, but I parry his strike and thrust. He parries as well and jumps back. “Well, I haven’t fought someone this skilled in years,” he says. Fool.

While he monologues I flick my hand and glass him. Disoriented he tries to use force lighting, but I dodge and start a downwards swing which he attempts to block, but to his dismay I turn my blade off before it connects and aim the pommel at his chest. His eyes widen, and he barely manages to block my blades forward motion, flying backwards into a wall. He gets the wind knocked out of him, standing up and saying “Tràkata?! What sort of coward and weakling
uses such an inferior saber style?!” he yells angrily. Great, an angry dark side user.

He monologues, again, while I infuse the force into my body granting myself a burst of speed. Unexpectedly I sprint at the careless swordsman, swinging both blades horizontally faster than the eye can see. The man barely blocks it, but I don’t stop. I relentlessly attack from all angles, till he goes to block my blades which are forming an “X”, but I sporadically turn on and off the blade. The sabers intersecting inches away from his neck. The man stares wide
eyed at me, dropping his saber. “Who, are you?” he asks in a quiet voice.

I stare the fool in his eyes, he looks as if he’s staring into the eyes of a demon. In reality I’m just a good fighter, and a survivor. Then, a fun idea forms in my head. I slowly take my mask off, the steam hissing sharply out into his eyes. My smooth face, silver skin, and glowing eyes are revealed to the man. His eyes widen further. I press a button on my wrist and my vocal chords start to function again. I open my mouth and say, quiet as a mouse, “A survivor. A ghost of the past. A bane on this galaxy,” as I slash. Thud, thud, thud. Job done.