A week later I was relaxing on Tatooine and looking at the new display image for the restaurant chain that was being opened across every major city on the planet that had a spaceport.
Tatooine Fried Chicken… and the holograms showed the image of Jabba wearing a golden crown, holding a bucket of chicken legs in one arm and a half-eaten chicken leg in the other. A big smile adorned the slug's face and spoke of how much good I had done for this planet through Jabba’s autonomous puppet body that the people of the planet did a complete turnaround on how they viewed Jabba. Before all of the newly gained life to the planet and the better quality of living for the former slaves, they would have cursed Jabba to their last breath.
Everything that had happened to them they could have blamed him for since they wouldn’t have been wrong. Now they celebrated him, viewing him as a hero that some would gladly give their lives for should an assassin make an attempt on his life.
It helped that I had managed a propaganda campaign, but unlike most normal ones, this was subtle, not something blatant like constant advertising with happy, cheerful music every time Jabba was in the image. A few whispered words, random rumors let out among the populace, suggested that Jabba hated every minute of their suffering and, in reality, wanted to help them.
When the opportunity presented itself, he took it. The people came to their own conclusions on why that was, but in the end it all worked out for Jabba and, by extension, me. It had been a week since Mace Windu and the Republic force meant to bring my Quiet Hand to an end failed.
The chicken population had exploded in that time, with the workers using both eggs and the wheat to get those feathery little dinners to breed like it was the end of days and a nerd needed to lose his v-card before dying. Various biologists studying the death claws also took an interest in the chickens. Many of those same scientists were astounded by the return of life across the desert world when more seeds of Eden were planted, which has drawn even more of them to the planet.
Many of whom were under constant watch just to make sure they weren’t spies. Even if they were, they wouldn’t gain much information besides anything out in the open.
Sitting down at a table, I enjoyed a drink outside of a cantina with several waitresses wearing the newest fashion trend I had introduced to the planet. A little inspiration from Alabasta from One Piece gave birth to the belly dancer outfits Vivi and Nami both wore throughout that arc.
The women took to it with great relish and pleasure, helped by the outfits being both beautiful and nice to look at combined with their bodies but also breathable, allowing them to stay cool when out under the planet's stars.
Other things such as new infrastructure and better conditions like forms of shade for anyone working out under the sun were implemented. The sound of steps had me idly look towards one of the scientists holding a chicken as it occasionally bawked at everything around it.
Just looking at those beady eyes, not a single thought could be seen besides eat, fuck, and multiply.
“S-sir, these creatures… We have never seen anything like them before. They don’t follow conventional science or even physics… Do you know where Jabba acquired them?” The Rhodian scientist asked me uncertainly if he wanted to be near me as news spread of the Quiet Hand clashing against Mace Windu and a large fleet's worth of Republic forces and coming out of it as the victor.
I had to shake my head at the notion I won. I didn’t necessarily beat the Republic, and I sure as hell didn’t win against Windu. The Republic got embarrassed and lost a crap ton of their forces in the process. But it was a drop in the bucket with what they had in orbit had the ion energy not disabled those ships and then the following cleanup while they thought they were safe to make repairs.
… Okay, I guess it was a win against the Republic, but against Mace Windu that will forever be a draw in my eyes, and that’s being generous. Sun Breathing helped me massively in that fight. With purely Niman, I might be able to make it a draw because, otherwise, I had no openings with that form.
But because of the fame spreading far and wide in the outer rim for what happened, the Quiet Hand and all members have gained one hell of a reputation, myself especially.
“Oh yeah, those little critters most definitely don’t follow any physics of any kind… As for where Jabba got them,” A snap of my fingers sent a small flame no bigger than a spark onto the chicken, and the scientist let it go out of shock from what happened next. “I don’t have the faintest idea.” I shrugged helplessly.
The chicken cried out, running in a circle around the table I sat at with everyone eyeing the bird and then me as they just watched the chaos of a random chicken getting set on fire.
“…Was that really necessary?” He finally said after a moment of contemplation of whether he wanted to get on my bad side, but his love for animals won out in the end.
“Of course it was! You brought me and everyone else here lunch, how else was I going to prepare it?”
He opened and closed his weird mouth that all Rhodians had before looking down at the chicken slamming into the table leg and falling over before, in a black puff, the chicken and fire were gone, and what lay on the floor with a sheet of silk under it was a cooked chicken.
He blinked owlishly as the patrons and workers watched in silent fascination as to what the hell just happened. Picking the cooked chicken up and sitting it on the empty plate from the table and tearing off a piece before taking a bite.
It was… meh. Not bad but just not good either. Letting out a sigh, I waved for everyone to come over. The scientist even leaned in and poked the chicken as if it weren't even real.
I let out a sigh before unceremoniously ripping off a leg and shoving it into his hand. “Eat it. It's only fair you get one of the good parts since you brought the meal to us. Everyone dig in, it’s on me. That includes you, amazing workers, keep up the good work.”
Everyone from the customers to the workers all walked over and got themselves some pieces off the chicken. The scientist took a small bite before pausing and beginning to devour the leg he had in his hand.
Cheers and people thanking me and the scientist for the food as I walked out, taking a quick sniff of the flowers planted in front of the cantina.
Ignoring the various women of all different kinds of races looking at me with no end of desire. It was nice to have some time while the various Crowns do their utmost in training.
The death claws’ eggs had finally hatched, and the various biologists were learning as much as they could even if the parents didn’t like them being so close, but they did as commanded by me and let the scientists do their work.
If it meant we could have a faster, more efficient breeding program, I was all for it. The temptation to have Pitou just modify one of them to have it accelerate its physical aging and then to stop it once it reaches its physical prime was there, but she had enough on her plate as is even if she could handle it.
I had no idea if that was even possible for her, but even if it was, she would need to have subjects to test and study it on to make sure it works and is done right. I just didn’t want to keep lumping more stuff on her.
It’s why I went out of my way to spar with her regularly when she wasn’t teaching Solution about nen. She really enjoyed those fights with Maul, sometimes joining us and quickly realizing that even with his imperfect thunder breathing, he was far from hoping to challenge either of us when it came to a lightsaber.
Not that it stopped him. Seeing the gap, he had been putting in his best efforts to try and catch up. Pitou and I have grown so damn much when it comes to using Niman. It was a game of leapfrog, every time one of us improved, the other soon joined after watching and observing the improvement.
It was as broken as it sounded. Sharingan and my training boosters just made things so much more convenient. Never mind my Crowns practicing other things, some of which weren’t even combat powers. Stuff like music, various forms of art, impersonating people while using my acting skills to help infiltrate the populace without giving away who the Crown was.
The equivalent of radio stations has been playing several of the songs I had made, which was an oddly satisfying feeling. Something the people on Tatooine had taken to like fish to water, just as they had to all the changes.
I idly looked over at the towering building that housed the new company -- Turbo Slug Incorporated.
An unimaginative name, but it fits Jabba’s arrogance… Well, what he has for arrogance now, anyways. The Jawas were quickly put to work, as several of them could be seen scampering around talking excitedly to one another.
Several droid designs had been developed already while patenting and using the designs from my tinker specialty that were proven to be incredibly effective when a Republic fleet couldn’t take down five ships in a short amount of time like they should have done normally.
Droids that had multiple redundancies to ensure maximum shelf life for customers who want some bang for their credits. Already orders are coming in for the droids.
Sidestepping some kids who were outside playing from the school that was currently at recess. A light smile and catching a tossed ball for a minute had the kids excitedly trying to copy my stylish moves with the ball.
Shaking my head, I was glad to see this place was a far cry from what it started off as. Off in the distance the farms were doing wonderfully. Besides droids tending to the crops, others were putting in good work. The various Tusken raider tribes had fallen in line accepting the deal for land to call their own and farm with.
It was sizable land at that, which they traded and did deals with various off-world cargo haulers who were interested in the specific foods they cultivated. Some were given corn and tomatoes, others various lettuces, and others fruits. Some even did livestock with their bantha or other farm-based animals they traded and made deals for.
No issues with them getting violent even if a few almost-bad incidents had occurred, but the majority of the tribes, after realizing the possibility of getting wiped out, made sure to tow the line with any that didn’t like the new status quo.
I even eye spied one of the droids based off of the Dock Ock arms that were given to HK-47. I think the droid loved those more than anything in the world… Probably a tie between those and the Malorian pistol from Cyberpunk I gave him.
After he saw just what that pistol could do, he wouldn’t let that thing out of his sight. Now I just needed to work on the dust from Weiss Schnee's weapon since I have been taking the dust rounds out of it to one day make some bullets. Never know when they might prove useful.
But watching the droid use those long arms with gripping clamps at the end to help get a newly opened shop up and running by bringing heavy supplies to the roof was something I enjoyed seeing. Between that and the smell of nature, various flowers that would be more at home in a jungle world than here, and the various rainbow of colors brought to life, it made it all surreal thinking this was Tatooine.
Disappearing in a swirl to then reappear in the castle before pausing when Haki started to pick something up. I let out a sigh. “What the hell now? I have a moment of peace to myself for once, and someone decides to pull a stunt. Of fucking course…” I muttered to myself.
Byakugan was quickly activated and I could see exactly what was going on. Two of the guards had been killed and were slumped over tucked into a dark corner where most wouldn’t notice.
Just when I was about to handle the intruders, I noticed one of them had grabbed Solution from behind, arm wrapped around her throat and her body pressed close to them. She had been walking along the corridor in the castle as she tended to do on occasion.
They dragged her off to a quiet room not realizing they may have just made the gravest mistake of their life… Well the human sleazebag can enjoy what happens next because I knew Solution was judging by the dark smile she wore.
Just when I was about to handle the rest of them, Pitou just appeared, leaping from wall to wall with speed fast enough most people wouldn’t even be capable of keeping up. Bursts of wind that followed her movements were the only indication she even had been around once she followed me into the castle from her training and hobbies.
A chorus of painful cries echoed down the halls of the castle and the men fell to the ground with broken legs. A few raised their blasters and those limbs were turned into pretzels.
Somehow she kept them all alive even if they wished they weren’t. Byakugan was still active and I could see the man with Solution. Her top was off and tossed to the side before the man grabbed a handful and instead of the soft feeling he hoped for his hand sunk right into her flesh.
The man’s expression took a second to register what was happening before his weapon was knocked away and his hand was now elbow deep inside of her chest. Solution soon wrapped her arms and legs around him in a deadly embrace, the man panicking and trying to punch her to no effect to get free.
His fist was grabbed by her hand and unceremoniously crushed into a bloody mess. His cry of pain was silenced when she grabbed the back of his head faster than he could open his mouth before shoving his head into her bosom and it sank in just like his arm now up to his shoulder.
No different from an anaconda, she slowly drew him into her body inch by inch, his struggles growing in desperation and intensity. His legs kicked out frantically as if he were a frog trying to leap away from a predator. With a silent pop his body finally was fully sucked into Solution's body. Pitou watched with interest while I walked around the corner.
“Pitou, gather them up. I need information and they are going to tell me.” It wouldn’t be hard since my power to hypnotize people through my eyes just needed to work on one of them.
I turned towards Solution, eyes focused solely on her face knowing damn well if I looked down I couldn’t look back up. Even with Byakugans near three hundred and sixty degree field of view I can focus on other things kind of like zoning stuff in your normal peripheral vision.
Despite how she could have just fully gobbled him up in the blink of an eye it showed how sadistic Solution was. She was a cat toying with the mouse making it think it had maybe even a slim chance of survival when in reality there was no chance at all.
The worst part about it… I knew he was fighting and struggling inside of her body. It was almost like an entire dimension inside of her, but it wasn’t. How the physics of that worked was beyond me, shutting the Byakugan off when the man’s skin and surface tissue was melted away by acid only to get healed back.
“Solution, while I understand your own desires and urges and a need to satiate them… Don’t do it when potential resources and assets are at risk.”
Her satisfied smile and confident smirk knowing her body tempted me so slid away forming into a grimace. She quickly got up and bowed deeply before me, golden hair hiding her face from view.
“I ask for your forgiveness, oh great one. I put your possessions at risk… I will take whatever punishment you see fit to give me.” Her tone was somber and the most serious she had been since I summoned her.
I waved her off. “That won’t be necessary. Just don’t do it again. I take it you have been feeling pent up and not content?”
She looked back up so fast her chest was bouncing from the force. My eyes focus on her eyes. Pitou hadn’t failed to notice my struggle and had a knowing smile.
“Yes my lord.” Solution answered after a long moment of me staring down at her.
A sigh escaped me before I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Alright. Tell you what… Any criminals act up on Tatooine you are free to do what you want with them.” Her face lit up in horrifying joy. “But! You need to keep what you do away from the public. We don’t need to look like the monsters the Republic thinks we are. The last thing that I need happening. Alright?”
She bowed deeply. “It will be done and thank you for your generosity, Tobi.”
She grabbed her shirt and quickly got it back on walking out of the room licking her lips in anticipation of any unfortunate criminal that finds themselves in her sight.
“That was awfully generous of you.” Pitou said playfully.
“She is getting bored. When people with way too much power get bored it tends to get chaotic real fast. Rather avoid it if I can. As for you guys…” My masked face got uncomfortably close to one of them who despite having nearly all his limbs broken beyond most normal doctors could fix he squirmed and tried to break out of the silk threads wrapped around them.
“Who hired you?” The last thing any of them saw was the mesmerizing sight of my crimson red eyes.
It didn't take long after that to get all the intel I needed. Come to find out it wasn’t Sidious or any of the people I half expected to make such a weird move against me. It was some of the Hutts in the Hutt council.
Interrogate and learn of the Hutt’s attempt at Jabba and you. One silver ticket. Use now? Y/N
[Golem Creation]
|Elite Ability|
Allows you to animate and command golems from earth, mud, sand or metal, the more durable and powerful the golem the higher the cost. The golems can be made temporary with less energy cost or permanent with a very high energy cost.
I could only stare off in the distance at what had been granted to me from a silver. Shaking my head and focusing back on the Hutt council I returned to my original train of thought.
They had come to the conclusion Jabba was not only vulnerable now with him showing weakness through his sudden shift in tactics and decision making but had become weak. Add on to that they had finally come to the decision believing he was beginning to lean too far towards the old ways of how they were a warmongering species.
The bounty hunters were sent when they believed the Quiet Hand was too scattered to do much nor detect the assassination attempt. While I could respect them having the balls to try doing what they did with Jabba of all people, they also just found themselves on my shit list.
It also happened to be a convenient excuse to finally go after them. The rest of the Hutts in power were going to be targets eventually when I found a moment to do so. Regardless of what mission or operation the Separatists needed the Quiet Hand for they would get a few agents while Pitou, and HK-47, joined me for this operation.
Our ship lurched out of hyperspace, the light of the stars washing over the hull of the ship before it turned and entered the poisoned and highly polluted atmosphere of Nar Shaddaa.
Our ship landed in a secluded section of the space port and the authorities looking for bribes were unceremoniously hypnotized to ensure no trouble or anyone asking questions found no answers.
Originally I intended to just Kamui into the palace and go after the Hutts up in those tall buildings that would make Earth's tallest skyscrapers look like a toddler's attempt at replicating a professional architect. But it seemed necessary to make an example that Jabba was not to be crossed. Doing so would give me some peace and quiet and make whoever else desired or disliked what has been changed on Tatooine think twice before making a move.
The people on the streets were rough, likely living most of their lives on these streets or similar enough places that they could survive and even thrive here. Women flaunted their bodies of various species, merchants and shops sold their products with plenty of hired muscle outside looking tough to scare off any would-be thieves. Plenty of people getting shaken down owing money to someone.
The worst part for me besides the lack of any kind of basic decency or any form of respecting other living beings' basic rights in life was the smell.
It was horrible. Even Pitou wasn’t immune from it as her nose wiggled and her face scrunched up. Her ears wilted flat against her head. The only one not affected was HK. The droid walked right beside us, his rust colored head sweeping across the street, blood red photoreceptors not missing anything no matter how small or insignificant.
“Horrible. How the fuck do these people deal with this?” I whined before using Kamui to end the torture and helping Pitou out by grabbing her hand through her cloak she wore to conceal herself.
Her ears perked back up now that the smell is gone.
“Nyaa much better.” She practically skipped by my side while we held hands. With the smell now no longer there to bother us we made our way to the palace of the Hutts council.
But I stopped at the sight of something that made my blood turn ice cold. Along the street we just turned onto we were greeted to the sight of the buildings and anything that could hold them up.
Bodies. Lots of them. Just hanging from cords wrapped around their necks.
All of them had markings and signs near them. All of which had one phrase on it -- Once a slave always a slave.
My hands clenched into fists and the only reason Pitou wasn’t in pain or had a mangled hand was her own absurd strength and Ten. She looked around a frown forming on her face, her tail snapped angrily under her cloak. She bristled and I knew it was taking a lot of effort for her to not let loose her Ren.
“Observation: The Hutts have not taken kindly to anyone wishing to be free like the others on Tatooine. These people wished to rebel and have a better quality of life as you have created and demonstrated it can be done.” HK-47 said while nonchalantly eyeing the other people moving around the street.
The only reason no one looked at the two weirdos looking at what was easily over four dozen people, many of which were women and even children was because of zetsu and my own skills in stealth.
The equivalent to a galactic radio channel droned on near us. “Alright sentients, next song is yet again from the rising up and comer The Prodigal Knight, another hit song Vengeance.”
A fitting song if there ever was one for what I was feeling right now. My music with the songs I had introduced to the galaxy had taken it by storm in a couple of days once word got around. Who knows, I might get the people in this galaxy to start making their own rock and metal songs. Better than most of the trash that was some garbled techno music.
I made myself look away swearing to make the ones who did this pay. More streets and more bodies, the number easily went into the hundreds before I stopped counting. I couldn’t even bring myself to look at the bodies not trusting myself to lose control and do something brash.
I was going to do something brazen, but it would give us more assets and resources. If I do what I wanted to because of how I felt, then we would lose out on so much and the people of this moon and all of Hutt space would still be living like the people before me walking through puddles of toxic waste and sludge as if it was nothing more than a benign rain puddle.
Pitou on the other hand whatever good mood she was in had quickly soured. I knew she was angry, being around her long enough and becoming intimately familiar with her body told me that much. Through Haki… She was a dormant volcano turned active and she was ready to explode.
She had changed over time, becoming attached to the people on Tatooine coming to appreciate them and even if she may not view them as equals, she had come to care for them. I was thankful for it, it showed she wasn’t a mindless beast that only killed and did what it wanted when it wanted to.
“Patience Pitou. They will pay very soon.” My reassuring tone and the gentle grip of my hand made her relax, posture and movements less aggressive and stiff. We moved faster without drawing attention, having dawned simple unassuming cloaks that took more effort to make them look plain than anything that I normally made.
HK himself didn’t have to worry too much since while he was a part of the battle on Quell oddly enough he didn’t have a standing bounty. Nor any word or mention of him beyond blurry images from the battle courtesy of both the rain, mud, and how fast and chaotic it all was.
Pitou and I, on the other hand, had massive bounties placed on us. Wanted dead or alive. Even if the person got incredibly lucky with somehow killing one of us and the Force decided to have some divine intervention stepping in to help the poor sap they would be half a billion credits richer.
Even if it would be fun to just fight our way through entire sections of these districts kicking the crap out of anyone foolish to think they could claim the bounty, it was best to uphold our image. We go in quiet, get to our target then go loud. Or close enough to said target like their front door step.
Nemesis was the outlier of that image, but he was an exception and not a breaking of it… anyone who says otherwise is full of shit and knows nothing.
Standing at a lower level at the end of the district where people meandered around while we all looked towards one another. “Pitou, be a dear and help HK out.”
“Statement: I am capable of getting myself up there, m-” Pitou unceremoniously grabbed the murder droid and we both leaped up towards the building, the wind whipping away at our clothes. Our legs pushed against the very air itself, the air trying its best to keep us slowed down but failing as we brushed past it. Several miles were crossed going up like it was nothing.
“-aster…” HK said before quickly realizing where we were. He turned towards Pitou. “Enlightening statement: You should be eternally grateful you serve my master. For if you did not, you would be subject to my most heinous deeds imaginable… my pettiness.”
Pitou tilted her head and smiled with her eyes closed. “Oh I like you too, rust bucket.”
She slapped her hand on HK’s back making the surprisingly strong droid stumble a step before it turned and it almost seemed like he was glaring at Pitou.
“Informative statement: This is not over.”
I brushed past both of them seeing the welcoming committee of some guards moving towards us. Their blasters were raised ready to shoot us.
In a flash my hand glowed blue with the sounds of birds chirping en masse. One moment I stood across from them, the sleeve of my cloak along the length of my arm was torn to shreds and after a few casual steps with me breathing in sync with the sun time resumed normally with their bodies falling to the ground with their heads not far behind them.
Pulling off the cloak and feeling the tight breathable silk clothes that hugged my form. Pitou did the same as we now no longer had a reason to hide ourselves.
“Commentary: Why master, this will be most enjoyable. So many worthless meat bags in one location that we get to kill.” HK now made me think of the old Stewie from Family Guy.
But with what we saw on the way here, for once, I agreed with him. This was something I am now looking forward to.
“Go nuts HK, do what you want however you please. Consider this a gift.” I said arms held out when several voices came from the comlink one of the Hutts enforcers had on them.
“Mockery: Oh those poor meatbags don’t know what is happening, master. Let us enlighten them.” The droid said drolly taking out the Malorian and with a wave of my hand had the octo limbs appear on the duracrete.
HK wasted no time connecting the modified limbs to his body, the delay they once had now gone. The Jawas did some fine work if I do say so myself.
HK followed me as we both began to move into the building. Eight guards were near a docking bay for speeders and other such vehicles not meant for space travel.
“You guys know what’s going on with the others freaking out?” One of them asked the question that none knew the answer too.
“Observation: Guards not doing what a guard is supposed to do does not inspire confidence in one’s competence.” HK-47 said turning the corner blaster rifle in one hand and the Malorian in the other.
“What the hell?!” One exclaimed before reaching for his blaster. HK-47 showed yet again to the galaxy why he was made.
A casual lean to the side had him avoid a blaster shot hitting a nearby wall. The infamous assassin droid didn’t even bother using the device his master had given him. The limbs were oh so wonderful in the droid's photoreceptors despite how simple they were. But they wouldn’t be needed. Not against such trash. But at least it was trash that could make such wonderful music.
A slight shift in the rifle and it barked with the man falling to the ground dead faster than a sentient could blink. Another fumbled for his weapon and he lost his head in a red mist along with part of an arm. The others moved so slowly with the red mist painting them head to toe in the remains of the previous meat bag.
HK made every movement count while restraining himself down to the bare minimum needed to at least make this enjoyable. These guards were disappointment given physical form. The clones he had killed while lacking had at least provided a challenge he hadn’t had since the last few Jedi he had killed that managed to get close to him back when he had been first made. But these meatbags couldn’t even handle him operating at far from his peak performance.
So he would find his own enjoyment since they couldn’t make his servos and circuits leap with mechanical joy when he crushed them utterly at his best then he would use them to make such glorious chorus of screams from pain and fear for his audioreceptors.
He was merciles, calculating and predicting what each of them would do, gauging it from their vitals such as their weak points they called their hearts, to the heat buildup across their bodies, and the trickles of sweat when sweet death was near.
One finally got close enough that the famed assassin droid tilted the blaster just enough before pulling the trigger. The bolts impacted one another ricocheting off into nearby walls. The man for his trouble had a leg blown off by HK’s new favorite weapon. He fell back against the wall screaming and looking wide eyed at his missing limb.
HK evaded their shots with ease, taking his leg and kicking it into the side of one of the guards legs who for whatever reason he thought was a good idea to charge him. A sound similar to stepping on dried up foliages leaves. The wet crunch and the scream that followed changed to pained gurgles when HK grabbed the meatbag and held him up in front of the blaster shots.
Not because he needed the worthless sack of flesh for protection. Far from it. He did it because he was having fun and wanted to make a game. Master tried to get the feline near-human, Pitou, to find another hobby. To make her fun where she could, HK decided to do the same.
“Ah! Please sto- You're shooting me!” The meat bag cried out as HK made the game of how long can the meat bag survive while HK tried to make each shot that hit him non lethal.
The others hesitated after a couple of shots at the realization they were only shooting their coworker. Another round fired from the Malorian blowing a hole right through the torso of a Devironian had them make up their minds.
“Sorry G’arm.” One said opening fire again. HK danced around the shots with his game still going as the droid counted seven blaster bolts before his game came to an end when the man succumbed to his wounds.
Taking the body and tossing it with no fanfare at a few of them. They fell over without much issue and a blaster bolt each made them still while they were down.
Smoke came from the newly made holes in their bodies, a sight that made the droid feel alive or the closest he could come to it. The man who lost his leg whimpered before trying to crawl to a blaster only to stop and wince when HK stepped on his hand.
He slowly looked up at the droid with a shaky breath followed by eyes with tears at the edges.
Even if most in the galaxy did not remember him, HK-47 had no problem reminding them all of what walked this galaxy over four thousand years ago, killing anything that lived among the stars. If it drew breath, bled, and felt pain, HK had killed it at one point or another.
The man’s cries of pain came to an end when the droid knew it was on the clock. He stalked off leaving the mangled body hanging from the wall with his reproductive organ shoved down his throat and an unhealthy amount of blood painting him.
The guards now knew something was up, all staying in the corridor, behind cover and ready to blast whoever was attacking the Hutts palace. The palace like anything the Hutts owned and were in constantly was opulent to the extreme. Gold and valuable metals on display, servants and slaves wearing revealing outfits especially for the women that were deemed attractive enough.
Statues of Hutts in all their disgusting splendor made from precious metals and gems. Paintings, rugs and tapestries, anything and everything one could imagine with each piece easily worth enough to buy multiple star ships or districts on Nar Shaddaa.
The smell of the outside was kept out, the Hutts preferring to keep the air fresh not because they couldn’t stand the smell outside considering how disgusting they were, it was because they wanted to show how far above everyone else they were. Flaunting their superiority. The guards and mercenaries who worked for them were willing to put up with it if it meant they didn’t have to live like the others on this planet struggling to scrape by a living.
Food, drink, some money thrown their way and they were more than willing to gun down or hang anyone who dared oppose the Hutts since it would affect them. Given the choice between themselves and anyone looking to topple the Hutts even if for justifiable reasons, they would choose themselves every time.
The reinforced transparisteel windows that the rulers of Nar Shaddaa had enough sense to have installed since it otherwise would have been a glaring weak point on the massive buildings. The massive group of guards armed to the teeth with blasters of various designs and models tensed up.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Something was coming. The issue was they couldn’t tell from where but they all knew they only had one way to get inside of this corridor, and that was the doorway they all watched.
When the shadow from the windows grew in size it was too late. A long mechanical tentacle grabbed just below the windows and instead of smashing through it ripped the plates out keeping it in place.
The screaming and blaster fire began when the tentacle grabbed one of them and just launched him out. His screams were joined by everyone opening fire trying to drown HK-47 in a sea of red. The issue with that was it was the wrong kind of red. The only drowning the droid would be subject to would be their blood.
The extra limbs slammed into the floor pulling out chunks of it and the wall using them as shields before the droid opened fire. Heads burst open like melons, organs and limbs became confetti, and blood painted everything in the corridor.
“O-open the door! Open it damn you!!!” The last survivor who had given up after tossing his blaster at HK-47’s head with a metal ding.
“Observation: It is incredibly rude to throw weapons at me.”
He turned around after banging desperately against the sealed door. The man with grit teeth charged at him. It was something the droid had long since learned about most meat bags in the time since he was made to reap death. It was his art, and like any good artist, he was willing to learn.
The meat bags liked to call it fight or flight. If running wasn’t an option, then fighting even if they had no chance of winning they would still do so even if it meant death.
The droid, instead of being annoyed by it, enjoyed it. It made… adjusting their outlook and attitude in their final moments that much more enjoyable. Especially with just enough pressure his photoreceptors got to memorize the best times he broke someone.
Not just physically, mentally.
The man’s sloppy slash with a vibroknife was stopped when he grabbed his wrist, snapped it, took the knife and slammed it into a knee.
The man’s mouth opened wide and out came the symphony. HK slammed the blade even further into the side of his knee before twisting it. The man’s arms smashed against the droid's chassis but it may as well have been light drops of rain.
The knife was pulled out and then slammed into a hand before using that as leverage twisted his arm behind his back and pinned the bloody appendage to the wall while he was held up off the ground. His scream stopped now becoming choked gasps.
“Mockery: If you had continued to sing meatbag, I might have let you live.”
The man about to say something, mouth half opened, stopped when a blade the droid had hidden went through his bottom jaw, closing his mouth. Wide blood shot eyes stared into what to him was a rust colored devil and not a droid before with a twist of HK-47’s servos the man’s head cracked and popped before he was hanging from the wall face staring at his legs dangling off the floor and dripping blood alongside the small river that had been made.
“Observation: The Hutts have not changed in the slightest. It makes things easier, but also rather dull.”
The murderous machine continued on enjoying the freedom of being let off a tight leash and savoring each kill for they would become personal favorites of the droid. Even if the subjects under his tender mercies were far too weak for his liking their pleas for mercy and looks of terror before ghastly dismemberment made up for that short coming.
Chaos Gacha:
[Golem Creation]
|Elite Ability|
Allows you to animate and command golems from earth, mud, sand or metal, the more durable and powerful the golem the higher the cost. The golems can be made temporary with less energy cost or permanent with a very high energy cost.