EDGE OF THE EMPIRE - THE DARK TIDINGS
Warrior searching for vindication
#Alien Language Detected |Transcription Protocol Initiated#
#Shyriiwook > Imperial Basic Conversion Commencing#
I am Rakurra of Kashyyyk, and this is my tale…
I was born amidst the towering treetops of Kashyyyk on the seventh level, 6400 paces above the soil where the giant Wroshyr trees had planted their roots. This was back when the Galactic Republic still stood proud.
I learned the art of hunting early; you might say I had a knack for it. Strength and guile was my allies and I used them as often as I could. As I grew older me and my brethren ventured further down the trees and further still, into the menacing Shadowlands.
For me it was just testing myself against Mother Nature’s worst creations, but it also resulted in part admiration and part disapproval from my kinsmen. My dear mother’s disapproval was felt most distinctly. I wish I could see her face once more, but I digress…
When the Clone Wars began we hoped our world would not be touched, but it was not meant to be. I fought side by side with my brethren and the clone troopers against those pesky droids. They had bad aim and they were fragile but there was an endless stream of them. I haven’t slept one night without nightmares of those battles. But we won at last, not that it mattered, of course, but a victory is a victory…none of us could have foreseen what would become of that victory.
When the Galactic Empire was born, many of the lesser species out there threw themselves at the new authority’s feet and were granted a teat to be suckled at the Emperors ugly side.
It took no seer or elder to figure out that the dishonorable Trandoshan lizard scums were first in line.
No sooner had we won the war alongside the clone troopers when they returned in legions, called themselves Imperial Storm Troopers and put all of Kashyyyk under martial law. Our entire race was being herded into prison camps like Banthas and enslaved. By sheer luck I managed to escape down through the levels until I reached the Shadowlands, and there I hid. Long weeks of avoiding Trandoshan slavers, Storm Trooper patrols and while evading the horrors that lived down there took its toll. But all was not lost.
One day I stumbled across a human male, a smuggler called Col Serra, who had fallen ill and hurt his leg among the trees. I carried him back to his ship and was offered a ride off Kashyyyk as thanks. Needless to say I accepted the offer.
From Col Serra I learned that my entire race was enslaved and put to work on various secret Imperial Projects. Our strength and technical ingenuity was perfect for building monstrous things and the smuggler said I would not be able to just walk around in the core worlds without being caught. Instead he brought me to Nar Shaddaa, a tainted, dirty place with little honor.
He dropped me off and gave me a contact that could help me make a living; we shook hands and said our farewells.
The contact procured a job at a certain Hutt called Garbol. I was to become his extended arm and strike whatever didn’t please him. As you may understand there were few things Garbol didn’t want to strike. I had no qualms twisting the arm of debtors but when Garbol wanted me to torture and kill their pups and kinsmen I refused.
Only fools swing on the heights with an untested vine…and I was a fool.
I became imprisoned and forced to fight in cages against all manners of creatures. It was a life and death dance that never ended. They even went so far as to call me the Beast, like I was some kind of animal.
I fought for my life in that cage and eventually Garbol started to put me on display at his party yacht.
I can only assume he was pleased with me.
During one such occasion the yacht was attacked and my cage fractured in an explosion. I finally made my escape.
A couple of nights later I met Kyle Antilles at a cantina, he seemed like an honorable human, reminded me a lot of Col Serra. He looked for a few good men to do some dangerous but well paid missions. I agreed and we disappeared from Nar Shaddaa.
A few well paid and dangerous missions later and we became good friends. Many long years went by, repeating the same meaningless pattern, taking on quests for payment and spending that payment on forgetting the past.
Me and Kyle Antilles worked together now and then and recently finished our latest mission of giving poor advice to a gullible Admiral of the Imperial Navy. I had hoped we could have acquired some intelligence but the imperial dogs had nothing to give. However mine and Kyle Antilles cooperation was completed and he was planning to go into the core worlds on a smuggling run, a place I dared not go yet.
By chance I met the smuggler Kabalh and his crew, they were willing to hire me and we shared the few common interests that mattered. Maybe I will be able to break this evil circle and claim vengeance…
Where this journey of mine may end I do not know. But I swear on my ancestors that the Empire, the Slavers and the Trandoshans shall pay for the sufferings of me and my people a thousand fold…