So recently a Star Wars-themed discord server that I’m part of announced a three-round writing contest. The first round ended the other day and, between myself and four other contestants, I won (with a score of 9/10), so I thought it’d be cool to share my story here.
A Bowl for a Blaster
Little Cole hugged his twin sister tightly…
“It’s going to be okay,” he said, as they quivered there in the darkness. He wanted to believe in his own words, though deep down, he feared the worst…
Despite being a desert world on the outer rim, Garel was usually pleasant, complete with a purplish sky, an eternal mix of sunset and sunrise. Cole and Flora had been lucky enough to live in the capital city, where most buildings had been decorated with golden lights and symbols. While some crime occurred here and there, most days were peaceful for the two of them… But not this day.
The boy and girl, both dressed in gray rags, sat there in the alley, shaking as a pair of super battle droids approached them slowly, their blaster hands ready to fire. Unlike their standard counterparts, these silver droids were bulky, and far more intimidating…
Cole began to whimper, believing this moment to be his last… Until suddenly, as if out of nowhere, the droids ceased to walk, and instead began to float, just a few feet above the ground. The children looked past the droids, only to find there behind them a man with his gloved arm raised in the air. He sported brown robes, with his hair long and unkempt. A scar could be seen across one of his eyes. Cole could tell that, whomever he was, he had certainly been through a lot…
“A Jedi,” Flora smiled in awe.
Her brother couldn’t help but smile as well, having always wanted to see a Jedi with his own eyes…
The man clenched his raised hand into a fist. Instantly, the droids collapsed onto the ground, falling forward as their chests imploded. They each let out a dying roar, before shutting down completely…
The children breathed heavy sighs of relief, as the Jedi approached them.
“Don’t worry,” he smiled, in a way that felt warm and sincere. “You’re safe now.”
Cole quickly brought himself to his feet, overcome with joy, “We sure are lucky that you came along!”
The Jedi laughed, “There’s no such thing as luck, kid. Nothing happens by accident.”
TWENTY YEARS LATER
General Draven raised an eyebrow, “Are you listening to me?”
Cole nodded in assurance, though he hadn’t truly been paying attention. He was tired. His last mission had ended just the night before. He barely had any time to make it back to base and rest, before being pulled into yet another debriefing…
The young assassin now found himself fatigued by the dark meeting room, the only light being that from the green holo-display table, there in the center. Draven stood right across from him, his aging hair slicked back, like always, a far cry from Cole’s messy mop. In fact, the only visual link between the two were their matching beige jackets, a common clothing article for Rebels…
Cole eyed his superior directly, “Are you sure I’m the only man for the job, sir?”
Draven sighed, “If Andor were still here I’d send him instead, but…”
“I understand,” Cole interjected. The Rebellion had seen enough casualties as is. Continuing to dwell on all of them would be futile…
“Very well.” The General cleared his throat, “Let’s get right to it.” He then pressed a button on the table there before them, which instantly projected the image of a spherical space station, “The Empire calls this The Death Star. It has already destroyed a city and a base, and we believe it may have the potential to do far worse.”
Cole felt his gut twist…
Draven went on, “An ally of ours recently returned to Alderaan and sent his daughter on a mission to retrieve the station’s blueprints, as they may reveal a weakness that can be exploited, but we have yet to hear from her.”
“So I’m the fallback.”
“That’s right.” Draven then pressed another button on the table, causing the projection to change to that of an elder imperial officer, green suit and all, “You’re target is this man here, Grand Moff Tarkin. We believe that he is the one leading the charge on this battle station in question. If we take him out, the crew of this Death Star, as they call it, may be left temporarily directionless, which could buy us some time, even if brief…”
The assassin examined the hologram carefully, making sure to commit Tarkin’s sharp facial features to memory…
“One of our U-Wing pilots will hand you your stormtrooper armor in a duffel bag and deliver you to a docking bay near an Imperial checkpoint. We anticipate a squad to be picked up there and brought onto the Death Star. That’s your way in.”
“And where exactly is this checkpoint?” Cole asked, bluntly.
“Just outside the capital city of a desert world called Garel.”
Cole immediately felt his whole body freeze, his eyes widening in shock…
Draven tilted his head in confusion, “Is there a problem?”
It took Cole a few seconds to answer, “No sir… No problem at all.”
The General still seemed perplexed, for a moment or two, but then merely shrugged, “Very well. You may proceed to the lobby, then. And remember; terminate whomever else you need to along the way.”
***
Garel was exactly as Cole remembered it…
He did his best to walk through the city with haste, though he was slowed by the weight of the brown duffle bag on his back, its strap around his shoulder. Nevertheless, he pressed on, looking for an alley he could use to change into his disguise…
“Come on,” he suddenly heard one child call to another, “Flora’s expecting us!”
Instantly, Cole stopped dead in his tracks and sighed. He knew he couldn’t avoid his past any longer. He had to go see her…
Carefully, he followed the pair of children into a small, dimly-lit canteen, one he knew all too well. Just as he expected, the place was full of men, women and children of all kinds, all down on their luck, all eating from matching bowls.
There in the central bar was a woman about his age, dressed in gray rags, serving everyone. With a deep breath, he walked up to her, “Hey…”
Flora looked upward, her eyes widening for a quick second, “Oh, hey… What brings you here?”
“Had to come out here to do a job.”
“What job?”
He shook his head, “Can’t say.”
She shifted her eyes, taking note of the strap around his shoulder, “What’s in the bag?”
“Like I said, can’t say… You should’ve come with me. The Rebellion could’ve really used you.”
She pointed to a bowl there on the counter before her, “You should’ve stayed here. Could’ve used your help running the place.”
He rolled his eyes, “You still don’t get it! What The Rebellion is doing will help the entire galaxy.”
“At what cost?” She pointed to his blaster, strapped to the side of his belt, “That right there is the reason I stayed behind.”
He merely shrugged, “The Jedi killed people too. Did they all deserve to be wiped out, like they were? Don’t you ever think about that Jedi who saved us? I’m pretty sure he’d want us to be fighting the good fight, like he did…”
She ignored all of his questions, instead pointing to a bearded man slightly older than them, sitting alone at a table, eating from a bowl, “See him over there? He was TK-059. He defected from The Empire just a few years ago.”
Cole took a quick look at the former stormtrooper, and then faced his sister once more.
She went on, “If he could change, why can’t the rest of them? Why take that chance away from them?”
The assassin shook his head once more, “I can’t let a one-in-a-million chance like that stop me.”
***
Cole could barely see through the stormtrooper helmet…
Nonetheless, he did his best to navigate through the bleak interiors of The Death Star, gripping his blaster rifle tightly…
He could see Tarkin just down the hallway, about to enter the main lobby, where a row of TIE Fighter ships were sitting, waiting to be hijacked. He would likely have to take out a few other Imperials along the way.
It’s worth it, he told himself…
Suddenly, he heard a chilling, robotic breathing, creeping up behind him…
Quickly, Cole swung himself around, only to find standing there a tall man in black, his face hidden beneath an angular helmet. He appeared to be evil incarnate. As evil as someone could be…
“You seem lost, trooper,” the dark figure spoke in a deep, terrifying voice.
“S-Sorry, sir,” Cole stuttered. “Was asked to go check on the trash compactor.”
“That would be on the detention level.”
“T-Thanks,” Cole stuttered again. “Lucky I ran into you, then!”
What the masked man in black said next shook Cole to his very core;
“There’s no such thing as luck, trooper. Nothing happens by accident.”
Click here to read my story from Round 2!
Click here to read my story from Round 3!
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