Back in the Game (COMPLETE)

9.10.3

The governor had retreated to his chambers, hoping that it would protect him somehow, but his children were crying into the arms of his wife and they could hear explosions and blaster shots getting closer every second. Desperate, he ran over to his communication console and sent an emergency broadcast out to anyone who was listening:

"This is Lucius Mevinow, governor of Coronet City! We are under attack! I repeat, we are under attack from Separatist mercenaries! They-" An explosion rocked the room, and he shielded himself from anything that might fly into the room. "They are attacking innocents! My people are going to die!!! We have not provoked this invasion, Corellia is a neutral system, we have no stake in the Clone War! Please! If anyone is listening we need hel-!"

And that was all he got out before a stolen missile was launched at his chambers, instantly killing him and his family. By the time the federal guards arrived, there was no one left to save.

~

The underground wasn't doing much better. Assassins were prowling the tunnels, looking for heads with bounties on them. They knew the names and had memorized the faces. All that was left was to find one (or hopefully more), aim the blaster, and pull the trigger. They could be flying away with the next year's money in a few hours, if only they could find their targets. 

Unfortunately, there were some who accidentally stumbled into gang territory. It was pretty clear that none of these imposters were welcome, and most of them were captured on sight if not immediately killed. Cilsxi Osceniu was one of them, and ended up being thrown in a cell down in the depths of he didn't know or care where.

All he could do was sit in the corner and listen for any signs of excitement. All of his findings had been taken from him upon capture, and they took his weapons too. It was a miracle they had left him alive, but maybe dying would have been better. There was a stench in here that was going to make him puke and anything was better than that.

A clanging came from behind him, a small scrumrat with a plate in his hand. He was banging on the metal bars for his attention. "Hungry?" he asked, setting the plate inside the cell. Cilsxi wandered over and sat against the wall, taking the plate. The only thing on there was a quarter portion, but it was something. He decided to stay there. Talking to a scrumrat was better than no one at all. It's not like there was any company in the cell.

"Where did you come from?" the boy asked, looking down at the prisoner. He hadn't been there for when the leader, Lady Proxima, had given his sentence. He was only ten and not old enough to be included in such affairs. 

"I'm from the Outer Rim," he mumbled as he choked down the tasteless food. "Got sent here by Dooku, but I dunno from where."

"Dooku?" the boy asked, cocking his head and sitting down on the other side of the bars.

Cilsxi raised an eyebrow at him, before looking away. "I guess a scrumrat like you wouldn't know. I've been there, you don't hear anything about the outside world, do ya?"

The boy shook his head, slightly ashamed but more interested. "I wanna become a pilot, the best pilot in the galaxy. I have to learn to fly, though."

Laughing, the bounty hunter and facing the opposite wall. "Keep dreaming, kid. Anyways, Dooku's this...count, of sorts. He's in charge of the Separatist Alliance, he won it after his boss died. Pretty nasty mess, that was. You ever heard of a Jedi?"

Thinking, the boy nodded. He remembered someone talking about it a long time ago, but he had never seen one. 

"Dooku's the opposite of that. Don't like the Jedi myself, but Dooku's just plain evil. He's got this horrible, red lightsaber." Cilsxi looked down at the boy's wide eyes. "Ever seen a lightsaber before?"

He knew the answer, of course, there was no way the kid had ever seen a lightsaber if he had lived down here his whole life. Cilsxi leaned in close, whispering to the kid. He didn't have to, but it was more fun if the kid believed he was telling him a secret. "It's this sword, but it ain't a regular sword. It's a laser. It can deflect a blaster shot if you use it right, and if you touch it, it'll burn your hand right off. I've seen people get their head chopped off by these things. One weird hum later and you're dead on the spot."

The look on the boy's face was pretty entertaining. Clearly, he had quite the imagination, because he dropped dead silent after that. Clisxi wondered if he was reconsidering his desire to see the galaxy.

"You don't have to worry about that, kid," he assured him, sliding the plate back to the scrumrat. "You ain't ever gonna see a lightsaber in your life, unless you go looking for someone who's swinging one. If I stay here, I won't either." He chuckled. "At least that's something I got going for me. Where am I, anyways? Who are you folk?"

"We're the White Worms," the boy answered, standing up with the plate in hand. 

That sounded ridiculous to Clisxi. "I see they're running out of names, these days." The boy started to walk, and he called out to him. "What about you?"

"Huh?" The boy turned, looking back at the prisoner.

"You got a name?"

Someone yelled from around the corner, clearly distressing the kid. He looked back at the bounty hunter and quickly answered, "Han," before running off to whoever was calling for him.