Coruscant
Sith Temple
Seventh Sister and Fifth Brother stood with their heads bowed before a holographic projection, the entire room filled with the sound of heavy breathing.
Hoo—hah! Hoo—hah! The sound was like Death's footsteps, slowly drawing closer to a dying heart.
"Useless failures. I see no reason for your continued existence. Your use of the dark side is a disgrace." The merciless voice of Darth Vader echoed from the projector.
Neither of them dared say a word in defense.
"M-My Lord... during this mission, we encountered a Force user. He wielded a lightsaber!" Seventh Sister couldn't help but speak up.
"A Force user? Hmph! And a single Force user was enough to leave you both in such disgrace? You were trained to eliminate them."
"My apologies, Lord Vader! We also discovered signs of another Force user on Tatooine. Please allow us a chance to redeem ourselves!"
"Remember your fear, Inquisitors. Or I'll make you remember—personally."
The transmission ended. The hologram flickered out.
Seventh Sister clenched her teeth and growled low with rage.
"Let's go. To Tatooine."
At the port, Rango used a hover cart to slowly unload a large shipping container from a freighter.
He tilted his head, listening closely. Inside the container, he could hear the low growl of a beast.
Weird. Someone shipping monsters to Coruscant? Was this some exotic pet for a rich Upper City noble?
City folks sure have their hobbies. If it were me, I'd get something soft and fluffy—
A loud bang snapped Rango out of his thoughts. Something inside the container was thrashing against the walls.
He turned and looked at the cargo's owners: several Trandoshans. Suddenly, he remembered what Amir always said—those lizard-headed guys? Now those were lizard-people. Why do I get called that?!
Something was off.
The Trandoshans exchanged glances and silently raised their electro-batons, surrounding Rango.
He slowly moved his hand toward his jacket.
In an instant, the Trandoshans lunged. The batons crackled with electricity, the air buzzing.
Rango pulled out the thermal cutting knife Amir had given him. Its blade glowed with red-hot energy, capable of slicing through alloy if held long enough.
He reversed his grip, lowered his stance, and his skin shifted to red.
Six Trandoshans charged, weapons swinging. They were born hunters, fanatics for the chase. Some even bought slaves to hunt in private reserves.
Now, Rango was their prey.
"Since you noticed something was off… sorry, but you're not leaving."
He jumped atop the container, evading the encirclement, and rushed toward the weakest link.
Two blocked the path. Rango went for the thinner one, dagger blazing.
The lizardman flinched, swinging his baton clumsily. Rango dodged and slashed across the creature's wrist.
Chi—!
The Trandoshan's right hand dropped to the ground with the baton.
Another lunged. The baton nearly jabbed Rango in the stomach.
He flipped backward, narrowly dodging, and bolted.
He'd shaken them. But damn—there went the payday. "Figures," Rango muttered.
He neared the exit, just past another container. Once outside, the Imperial patrols would keep things in check—no one would dare cause trouble under their watch.
Just as he passed the container, a baton jabbed out from the shadows, striking his leg.
A current strong enough to down a rancor surged through his body.
Rango collapsed, twitching.
The Trandoshan who ambushed him laughed. "A true apex hunter knows how to stay hidden!"
The others laughed in agreement.
Amir slowly woke up. His mind cleared. The simple but cozy room aboard the starship surrounded him.
He got up and stepped outside, just as Veronica exited the room opposite his.
"I thought you'd ditch me and fly off to join the Rebellion," he said.
"Hmph. Not yet," she replied, turning her head away. "Little Jay messaged you. You should check in."
"Alright."
Amir left the ship and rode Cola toward the lower levels. It was early; few people were out.
He passed Rango's usual hangout but didn't see him.
Back at the shop, Pierre was repairing machines like always, unaware of the prior day's chaos.
That was the Empire's true horror—total control of media and knowledge. Citizens only knew what the Empire allowed.
Negative information was wiped. In ten years, the Empire had erased almost all traces of the Jedi Order. People now thought of Jedi as traitors.
In the Core, people just wanted peace. And here, where Imperial control was strongest, there were no pirates, no riots. Life was calm—and brainwashed.
Constant broadcasts glorified the Empire's actions, showing footage of "peacekeeping" missions. Many genuinely believed.
Amir thought of Kain.
He too had grown up on Coruscant. Before joining the military, Kain had felt a deep loyalty to the Empire. As a child, he dreamed of becoming an Imperial pilot.
But at the Imperial Academy, the truth crept in. He learned of the atrocities the Empire committed in the Outer Rim.
Genocides for resources. Enslavement of Wookiees.
Doubt took root. But indoctrination ran deep. He still hoped to help the galaxy—to fight pirates, to protect people.
Amir knew better. Jabba the Hutt, the biggest slaver of all, had ties to the Empire. Probably even a base on Coruscant.
In the end, though it wasn't entirely Amir's fault... Kain defected.
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