sam00ferrell
Mato I: A Death Sentence
For SW Factions. Mato has a moment of clarity, and makes a choice.
Story below:
“Take the woman before the Hutt Lords.”
It was a death sentence. He had carried it out before.
His life was three things: putrid smells, fear of death, and orders from the Hutts. Mostly orders to kill.
He had killed people for talking back. He had killed people for failing Baga’s orders. He had even killed other enforcers, when the Hutts demanded entertainment during dinner. And now he would probably have to kill this woman.
The girl walked proudly in front of him. She was some sort of spy, trying to undermine the Hutts. He shook his head; he couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. She’d gotten in over her head.
“Have you lived on Nal Hutta long?”
The young woman’s question came out casual, almost flippant. Before he realized what he was doing, he stammered a reply.
“My whole life,” he said, then he corrected himself, twisting his weathered face into a snarl. “. . . Shut up and keep walking!”
The girl kept walking, but she kept talking too.
“My name is Yigs. I’m from a planet called Wayland. It’s beautiful there. The rain is fresh, there’s cool breezes . . . nothing like this toilet. You should see it, if you get the chance.” She frowned back, a sympathetic look that startled him. “I’m sorry that you’re stuck here.”
He growled. “There’s nothing to see. Nal Hutta is where the Hutt Lords rule. It’s an honor to even be in the same system.”
Even as he said it, he thought of his quarters. Swamp water pooling on the floor from the drain overhead. The smell of garbage rising from under the door. He had to keep a constant eye on his stained blankets, otherwise they’d be stolen. You couldn’t trust anyone. But that was just the way life was.
“You don’t even know, do you? You’ve never seen anything better than this stinkhole.”
He was silent.
She went on. “That’s why I’m here. There’s so many beautiful worlds out there, but they’re being ruined by the Hutts. People are free, and happy. They laugh at jokes and watch the sunrise. They have friends.”
The Weequay snarled. “Friends. Useless.”
“Hah!” her laugh was clear, strong. She wasn’t afraid, even though she must have known what was ahead for her. “Have you ever had a friend?”
It wasn’t condescending. She meant it.
He grumbled a non-committal answer, then said, “You should shut up. The Hutt Lords want a word with you. You can talk then.”
“What’s your name?”
“What?”
“What do people call you?”
“. . . Enforcer,” he joked, a bitter edge creeping into his voice. “Or wrinkle-head. Leatherskin. Sometimes just trash. Take your pick.”
“What did your parents call you? You had parents, right?”
What was he doing, talking to this dead woman? She was getting into his head. He’d be lashed if anyone heard them.
“Mato,” he heard himself say.
“Mato,” she said, her voice full of a fire and surety and fierceness he’d only seen in the Hutts themselves. But there was something else there that the slugs never had; genuine care. He figured either she had never had a boot on her neck, or she threw it off the moment it was placed there. Both boggled his mind.
“Give me your blaster,” she said seriously. “I can get us both out of here. I can get you to free skies, to friendly people. You don’t have to serve the slugs.”
He felt something new, bright, and frightening rising in his chest. He tried to push it away. “You’re a slave,” he spat. “What could you possibly do?”
“No,” she said firmly. “You’re a slave. And I’m going to free you.”
“No,” he said again, and his voice gave out. “Even if you could, I’ve . . . done too much. No one wants to help a Hutt enforcer.”
A sad smile twisted her mouth. “Really? I’m helping you right now, and you’ll probably have to kill me soon.” She caught his gaze, which had been set dully on the floor.
“Please, Mato,” she said. “Give me your gun, and I promise to get us both out of here.”
When he met her eyes, he was suddenly shocked with clarity. It was a moment of destiny, like a waking dream, where he saw two courses of life stretch forward. One was a stream of steaming swamp water. It was killing for the Hutts, eventually dying alone.
The other was what he imagined clean water might look like. He’d heard it was blue. That stream was helping the girl. With her, either he would die, or he would be free. No more Hutts. No more orders. No more slime.
When he compared the two streams, what did he have to lose? All he had to do was trust. To put his life in someone else’s hands. Could he do that?
He’d seen her fire. The light in her eyes. The care in her voice. Unlike anything he’d ever seen or heard.
He undid her cuffs, unbuckled his holster, pulled his blaster, and held it out to her.
“I hate the Hutts. I hate this killing. I’m done,” he snarled. “I choose the blue water.”
She nodded.
He felt sweat roll down his temple. He’d been so sure of his choice, but now there was no going back. “W-What now?” he asked.
She primed the blaster. A reassuring grin—confident, but not cocky—played on her face.
“Now, Mato, we ditch this place forever.”
He tried to smile back, but he was too nervous. He took a deep breath, and hefted his vibroaxe.
“Okay,” he exhaled, and nodded. “Okay.”
They turned to face the fight ahead. He felt so much better that she was in it with him.
Was this what having a friend was like? It was a brand new feeling. And he had a sneaking suspicion—though it was still just a hunch—that she wouldn’t even try to steal his blankets when he wasn’t looking.
Life would be different from now on.
Part 2 is here: www.eurobricks.com/forum/index.php?/forums/topic/178764-s...
Mato I: A Death Sentence
For SW Factions. Mato has a moment of clarity, and makes a choice.
Story below:
“Take the woman before the Hutt Lords.”
It was a death sentence. He had carried it out before.
His life was three things: putrid smells, fear of death, and orders from the Hutts. Mostly orders to kill.
He had killed people for talking back. He had killed people for failing Baga’s orders. He had even killed other enforcers, when the Hutts demanded entertainment during dinner. And now he would probably have to kill this woman.
The girl walked proudly in front of him. She was some sort of spy, trying to undermine the Hutts. He shook his head; he couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. She’d gotten in over her head.
“Have you lived on Nal Hutta long?”
The young woman’s question came out casual, almost flippant. Before he realized what he was doing, he stammered a reply.
“My whole life,” he said, then he corrected himself, twisting his weathered face into a snarl. “. . . Shut up and keep walking!”
The girl kept walking, but she kept talking too.
“My name is Yigs. I’m from a planet called Wayland. It’s beautiful there. The rain is fresh, there’s cool breezes . . . nothing like this toilet. You should see it, if you get the chance.” She frowned back, a sympathetic look that startled him. “I’m sorry that you’re stuck here.”
He growled. “There’s nothing to see. Nal Hutta is where the Hutt Lords rule. It’s an honor to even be in the same system.”
Even as he said it, he thought of his quarters. Swamp water pooling on the floor from the drain overhead. The smell of garbage rising from under the door. He had to keep a constant eye on his stained blankets, otherwise they’d be stolen. You couldn’t trust anyone. But that was just the way life was.
“You don’t even know, do you? You’ve never seen anything better than this stinkhole.”
He was silent.
She went on. “That’s why I’m here. There’s so many beautiful worlds out there, but they’re being ruined by the Hutts. People are free, and happy. They laugh at jokes and watch the sunrise. They have friends.”
The Weequay snarled. “Friends. Useless.”
“Hah!” her laugh was clear, strong. She wasn’t afraid, even though she must have known what was ahead for her. “Have you ever had a friend?”
It wasn’t condescending. She meant it.
He grumbled a non-committal answer, then said, “You should shut up. The Hutt Lords want a word with you. You can talk then.”
“What’s your name?”
“What?”
“What do people call you?”
“. . . Enforcer,” he joked, a bitter edge creeping into his voice. “Or wrinkle-head. Leatherskin. Sometimes just trash. Take your pick.”
“What did your parents call you? You had parents, right?”
What was he doing, talking to this dead woman? She was getting into his head. He’d be lashed if anyone heard them.
“Mato,” he heard himself say.
“Mato,” she said, her voice full of a fire and surety and fierceness he’d only seen in the Hutts themselves. But there was something else there that the slugs never had; genuine care. He figured either she had never had a boot on her neck, or she threw it off the moment it was placed there. Both boggled his mind.
“Give me your blaster,” she said seriously. “I can get us both out of here. I can get you to free skies, to friendly people. You don’t have to serve the slugs.”
He felt something new, bright, and frightening rising in his chest. He tried to push it away. “You’re a slave,” he spat. “What could you possibly do?”
“No,” she said firmly. “You’re a slave. And I’m going to free you.”
“No,” he said again, and his voice gave out. “Even if you could, I’ve . . . done too much. No one wants to help a Hutt enforcer.”
A sad smile twisted her mouth. “Really? I’m helping you right now, and you’ll probably have to kill me soon.” She caught his gaze, which had been set dully on the floor.
“Please, Mato,” she said. “Give me your gun, and I promise to get us both out of here.”
When he met her eyes, he was suddenly shocked with clarity. It was a moment of destiny, like a waking dream, where he saw two courses of life stretch forward. One was a stream of steaming swamp water. It was killing for the Hutts, eventually dying alone.
The other was what he imagined clean water might look like. He’d heard it was blue. That stream was helping the girl. With her, either he would die, or he would be free. No more Hutts. No more orders. No more slime.
When he compared the two streams, what did he have to lose? All he had to do was trust. To put his life in someone else’s hands. Could he do that?
He’d seen her fire. The light in her eyes. The care in her voice. Unlike anything he’d ever seen or heard.
He undid her cuffs, unbuckled his holster, pulled his blaster, and held it out to her.
“I hate the Hutts. I hate this killing. I’m done,” he snarled. “I choose the blue water.”
She nodded.
He felt sweat roll down his temple. He’d been so sure of his choice, but now there was no going back. “W-What now?” he asked.
She primed the blaster. A reassuring grin—confident, but not cocky—played on her face.
“Now, Mato, we ditch this place forever.”
He tried to smile back, but he was too nervous. He took a deep breath, and hefted his vibroaxe.
“Okay,” he exhaled, and nodded. “Okay.”
They turned to face the fight ahead. He felt so much better that she was in it with him.
Was this what having a friend was like? It was a brand new feeling. And he had a sneaking suspicion—though it was still just a hunch—that she wouldn’t even try to steal his blankets when he wasn’t looking.
Life would be different from now on.
Part 2 is here: www.eurobricks.com/forum/index.php?/forums/topic/178764-s...