My highschool adventure as a Sith is wrong, as expected (OreGairu/Star Wars) (ch.4) (Patreon)

The cities of Cadinth were dead. There was once an ancient race that had lived here, but they were gone long before other races had settled in their ruins. The buildings, despite how poorly they aged over thousands of years, they still held a futuristic look to them. They stretched high into the sky, the gray metal having long since dyed black, the glass windows were coated in dust. 

Closer to the ground was far more colorful almost in spite of the black sand that got everywhere. Vibrant colors of cloth sheets that served as shields against the sand kicked up by the howling wind. Every single color in the spectrum that marked stalls lining the main roads. Like me, they sold various types of scrap, second-hand goods and so on. 

I glanced over the aliens that stood behind their stalls, all of them sparing a look at me. Or, rather, the pile of scrap I had on my skiff. They varied from race to size, to color to everything. Even after a few years, it was a little odd knowing that aliens were real. Apparently, first contact happened thousands of years ago, so now aliens were ordinary. That took some getting used to. 

It was an odd contrast between the people that lived here and the city. Everyone here looked rough, either slavers, slaves or ex-slaves and we looked the part. Even as rundown as it was, the city still looked like it belonged in the future, so it was as if the millions of people that lived here were simply vagrant squatters. 

Eventually, I found my way to a central market that was once a park some thousand years ago. Despite it being so early, the market was already in full swing. People bartered, shouting over each other to be heard, waving their wares in the faces of anyone who walked by. It made me miss the quiet shopping of Chiba more than words could ever say. 

"Is that it?" Padawan asked me, her voice low as I pulled my skiff behind me. Her face was uncovered, though she did wear a headdress now that blocked easy view from the sides. A lesson I learned in my old life was if you didn't want to stand out, then simply look like you belonged. Covering her face when there wasn't a sandstorm in coming was asking for people to be suspicious when it looked like the place was in the process of getting locked down. 

I nodded, my gaze landing on what could be a port if you're standards were low enough. Half of the park was used for small ships to park at. For larger ships, there was a space elevator that they could dock at but that served as the seat of power for the Kin'song cartel, who more or less owned this city. Trying to steal from there was a death sentence. 

Though, judging by the practical wall of imperial soldiers that were locking down the port, the same could be said for the lower port as well. 

"I can get us the fuel. Are you sure you don't need any help getting the astrodroid?" Padawan pressed for the fifth time since we started our journey. Thanks to the floatcar, we managed to trip in a few hours. 

"You focus on your task and I'll focus on mine," I shot back, my gaze lingering on the ship behind the wall of imperial soldiers, their flat black armor almost making them blend in. For a time, before I started building my own ship, I considered stealing one. It would have saved no small amount of time and effort, and I might have if it weren't for the fact that the odds were I'd steal a pirates ship. If Disney movies taught me anything, they were rather touchy about that and they wouldn't be held back by a PG rating. 

Padawan let out a small huff of laughter, "of course Master." She said with a small laugh followed by a bigger wince when I grimaced. "I- I am sorry. I...sometimes I make the mistake of thinking I'm funny." 

“It’s fine,” I dismissed the issue easily, feeling awkward for making things awkward. “And I’m sure. I can get my hands on a droid easily enough -- you have the hard part. Just don’t get caught stealing the fuel and we should be fine.” I said, not looking at her as I stared at a fork in the road. 

“We’ll meet here when it's done. And if we can’t, do you remember the way back to my base?” I questioned, getting a nod from her. We reached the crossroads a moment later. With nothing else to say, she went right while I went left. 

Pulling my skiff through the busy streets, I looked ahead determinedly, ignoring the occasional look I got from less than savory individuals. My skiff attracted no small amount of attention, the tarp covering it might as well be Christmas wrapping with how some people were looking at it. Even still, I kept walking towards my destination. 

Right up until I was stopped by an imperial patrol less than a hundred feet of where I split ways with Padawan. 

“Halt right there,” a modulated voice caught my attention. I came to a stop at the authoritative tone, looking to the side to see a tall man dressed in black armor with a helmet that border lined goofy looking. It was more intimidating when there were another five of them behind the first, all of them carrying blasters in their hands that packed a much bigger punch than mine. “Remove the tarp!”

Wasting no time, I grabbed the edge of the tarp and slowly pulled it back to reveal a pile of junk. It came only as a minimal surprise when the soldier grabbed the edge of my skiff and flipped it over, sending all of my most valuable scrap into the dusty roads. He kicked some of it, not to be cruel but to look for something. 

The other five kept their blasters trained on me during a few long seconds, all the while I kept my hands in the air. I swallowed my indignation, ignored my fantasies of ripping their blasters out of their hands with the Force and ragdoll them like Padawan could. 

“He’s clean,” the soldier said, dropping a vacuum tube to resume his patrol. They nodded, marching on, but I felt a pair of eyes on me. Looking up as I began to pile my stuff back onto my skiff, I saw one of the troopers staring back at me. I felt...shame coming off of him before he resumed following his squad. 

Not enough to help me it seemed. In a hurry, I started tossing things on to my skiff, wishing that I could just use my ability to do it. If only drawing attention to myself wasn’t the very last thing that I wanted. As I refilled my skiff, a blur rushed towards me. Or, rather, the scrap littered onto the road. 

“Hey-” I started to shout, only to pause when I saw the thief was someone my size. A kid with a white scar running down the center of his neck. A superconductor bulged out of his skinny arms, jostling with every step. It would have been so easy to reach out and trip him up, buying me time to catch up and take the conductor back. I didn’t. Instead, I simply filled my skiff back up and continued on my way. 

Thankfully, it didn’t take long to reach my destination. An unassuming scrap shop that was successful enough to rent out the bottom floor of a skyscraper. Through the foggy windows, I saw a familiar neon light that said Scrap, only the S was gone dark since I’ve been going here. With little hesitation, I walked in to see a familiar face behind the counter, reading a datapad that most likely didn’t display things that could be described as safe for work. 

“Eh, you’re alive! Was wondering if something had finally gobbled you up,” a large, deep green pig-like alien snorted from behind the counter, looking up as I entered. A Gamorrean called Thurgulk. Calling him a decent person was a stretch, but he didn’t rip kids off as badly as he did his regular customers, so there was that. “And you come with a nice pile of scrap! Find something good out there?”

I approached the counter, using the step stool that he put there so shorter species could see over the counter. “It’s all the good stuff that I’ve been saving up,” I answered, unveiling the tarp. If there was a gleam of greed in his beady black eyes then there were credit signs in them now. Superconductors, refurbished parts, and other odds and ends -- practically a fortune on this planet. 

“I can give you-” Thurgulk started but I cut him off with a hand. 

“What I want,” I began slowly, making sure that I had his full attention, “a ticket upstairs.” 

Thurgulk went still, tearing his gaze away from the scrap to slowly turning it to me. I could practically see the cogs turning in his mind, coming to a conclusion. On this planet, scarp was common, refurbished parts were rare, new parts were practically impossible to get your hands on. Getting an astrodroid? I might as well be asking to meet the emperor himself. 

I wasn’t going to get an asteriodriod down here. The only place where I could get one was upstairs, and only I could get it. Upstairs, on the upper floors of the space elevator, there were functioning cameras, safety checks and so on. Padawan would have been caught before she stepped foot on the elevator. 

“Kid...ah...well, I guess living as a slave upstairs is better than living free down here?” Thurgulk said, a note of defeat in his tone. I didn’t correct him on why I wanted to go upstairs since it would just raise more questions. “That should be more than enough to get you a ticket upstairs. Here, take this pass,” he said, handing me a black keycard. 

I frowned at it, “you’re not going to check it?” I asked, looking at my hard-earned scrap. Years of work hoarding the best of it for this rainy day. Years of learning from trial and error to fix every piece of tech, of learning what went where and what they did with no one to teach me other than the Force nudging me in the right direction. 

“Do I need to?” Thurgulk asked, leaning back into his chair as he turned his attention back to his datapad. 

Well, “no,” I responded simply, stepping down from the step ladder. That was...a lot easier than I expected. I was approaching this the same way I approached my parents for getting cringey cosplaying materials -- by lying about what the money was for and giving them a plethora of valid reasons why they would want to give me money. 

“Good luck upstairs, kid. Hope you find a good master up there,” Thurgulk said as I made to leave the store, tucking the key card into my waistband to make sure no one stole it. “And if you ever get sick of the slave life and decide to escape again, Thurgulk’s scrap and wares will happily welcome you back.”

Of course, he would say that. I was one of his best earners, meaning he ripped me off the most out of everyone on this planet because, to this day, I still didn’t know exactly how much a single credit was worth. 

That didn’t mean I didn’t appreciate the thought. “Thank you for all you’ve done for me,” I said, pausing as I left to give a small, polite bow. It wasn’t the norm in this world, but I was Japanese far longer than I was...Candithian?

“Eh, you did more for me kid. Good luck,” Thurgulk said as I stepped out of the building. As if my gaze was drawn to it, I looked up at the space elevator. It was broken up into the lower floors, the middle floors, and the upper floors -- there were hundreds, if not thousands, of floors that made up the space elevator, and each one was marked with an increase in the quality of life. 

In my few years there, I only ever saw the middle floors. Even as a slave, comparing it to the quality of life, the middle floors might as well be a palace. Still, I wasn’t looking forward to stepping foot there again. But, even still, I approached the elevator all the same, knowing that it was the only option. 

The elevator was a large door, meant for large cargo hauls and the interior reflected that. Sliding in the keycard, the large doors slid open, revealing a large platform. Fifty of me could have stood on the giant platform that served as an elevator. Pressing my destination, I took a step back and let out a long breath as the door slid shut and I began to rise. 

My heart was pounding in my chest, my palms damp with cold sweat. It felt like only yesterday that I was in this same elevator, panicking as I went down instead of up. Maybe I should have let Padawan do this instead of me -- who knows what else the Force could do, or what tricks she had up her sleeves. Maybe it would have been completely fine. 

I felt the elevator slow far too quickly for my liking, telling me I had arrived at my destination. Taking a deep breath, I waited for the doors to slid open. As soon as they did, I was hit with the sight of what I could only compare to a shopping mall. The floors were white, though the walls were a dull, metallic gray. Signs of neon advertised all kinds of business that all kinds of people went about their day. All of them better dressed than me. 

It was a familiar sight, despite it having been years since I’ve been here on the five thousandth floor of the space elevator. As was the face standing directly in front of me. A woman’s face was humanoid, but her skin was a dusty gray and she had another pair of arms just underneath her upper arms. 

Her dully gray eyes looked into my black ones, and, to my horror, she recognized me as well. 

“Ah, Hikigaya. I wondered if I would ever see you again,” she said with a smile that could be mistaken for kind. 

Jeen-Lie. My former master. 

I hope Padawan was having better luck than me.