Star Wars: Terminated

Chapter 6

"He's no use to me dead." - Boba Fett, to Darth Vader.

"So, let's get this started. I say, 'name,' and you say whatever the frag you're name is. Got it?" Said Lil, beginning the interrogation. We were in the hold of the Slave I where we had dragged the half-conscious imposter from outside the cantina.

"Name," she commanded.

"Darth Vader."

"Name," she hissed.

"Darth Revan," said the imposter, smirking. He had now regained consciousness, and unfortunately, his full sense of annoying humor with it.

"Did I ask you to recite every Sith Lord in recorded history to me? No. So, let's do this one more time. Name." Lil was starting to get agitated. This had gone on for over half of an hour. I had insisted that we try starting with less.....extreme methods.

"Sheev Palpatine."

Whack!

Lil's armored fist connected with his lower jaw, hitting him so hard he fell flat on his back. Now I began to get a good look at him. He was a man of medium built, muscular, as if a former athlete. He had a set jaw, indicating firm determination. A mop of loose brown hair partially concealed his eyes, one green, one blue.

"Name."

The man coughed, and then spit, a bit of red in his spittle that I assumed was blood. He seemed to hesitate for a fraction of a second, then reluctantly said,"Daven."

"Full name." Lil's aggravated tone decreased somewhat, now that progress was evident.

"Daven Jukara."

"There. Was that so hard?" She smirked. She stood up from where she was crouching in front of the man and turned toward me. "Get me my 'pad."

I said nothing, only grabbed her datapad from the bulkhead and handed it to her. "Daven Jukara," she said. She had pulled up his profile. "Actor, singer. Amateur writer. Says you were voted the 'Most Obnoxious and Insufferable Actor' award by Late Night Holonews." She passed me her datapad, and I held it under my scrutinizing gaze.

  Daven Jukara is a Corellian holovideo actor, and singer-song writer. His parents were-

  I skimmed down, ignoring the unimportant information.

  After his award-winning role in 'Palpatine: The Life, the Legend'as Palpatine himself, he told reporters he had,"A sudden longing for the life of a mercenary." He stopped acting and even turned down a role to play in 'The Xagobahian Rhapsody.'

    He left Coroscaunt and returned to his homeworld, Corellia, where he became an amateur mercenary. His current whereabouts are unknown, although, when a certain holonews team tried filming him, he was reportedly seen 'shooting the holonews camera with a long-dangle rifle at point-black range.

  
What the heck? Psycho. I had heard his name muttered a few times, only on big-city worlds. People had said he was an admirable actor. Why in the fierfek had he forsaken his prosperous life on Coroscaunt and went all mercenary?

 
  "Says here you went mercenary. There a particular reason for that, Jukara?" I asked.

    "Some Imperial prat wants me dead. Some kid named named Verge. Said my performance and representation of the Emperor in Palpatine: The Life, the Legend was terrible. He thought, and I quote, 'Your performance was cringeworthy, and you are unworthy to represent the Emperor.' So, long story short, he said I did terrible, and embarrassed old Palps' himself." He grimaced.

"So anywho, this Verge, I think his name was Prelate Verge, was some Palpatine-idol worshipper. He sent a couple of storm troopers after me on several occasions, which always ended unfavorably. I was naturally concerned for my safety. I told reporters I was tired of acting and wanted to pursue a new career. So, I went underground." He leaned back against the wall of the Slave I, with a satisfied appearance, as if saying, There, happy?

    Now it was time to get into the real business. "So your apparently a crack shot with a rifle, correct?"

   His confident composure faltered for a second, but he recovered with a cocky smile. "So? Yeah, I am, but what's that supposed to mean?" I could see sweat beginning to appear on his forehead.

    "Well you've got to be pretty kriffing good if you can shoot two A-30 slugs and make contact with both," I said, tone darkening. Lil glanced up at me and gave an encouraging nod.

    The reason I asked was because when firing an A-30, the recoil from it firing  has been known to send amateurs sprawling. And also seeing that A-30 slugs were a rarity among accomplished snipers, who preferred to use regular blasters over a projectile sniper.

    "So? I've had a lot of practice." His confident tone was beginning to lose its arrogantness.

    "Nobody uses slugs unless they want someone definitely dead. Zero-percent chance of survival. So who in the name of Jabba the Hutt hired you?" I began leaning into his face with each word. Intimidation was also a key factor here. Not many people can keep cool with a  Mandolorian helmet staring right at them.

    "Like I'll tell yo-AGH!!" As soon as he uttered those words Lil had took two of her fingers and hooked them right under each nostril, and began lifting. Jukara had no choice but to go with it to lessen the pain. I knew what it felt like. Sadly, Lil had perfected her infamous "nostril hook" on me as we were growing up.

   "Listen, buddy, I have got a nice, fully-charged electrostaff just sitting there in my ship's storage compartment. It has just been absolutely begging me to take it out and use it, and so help me, I will if you don't start talking in five seconds!" She tightened her two fingers, and Daven yowled in pain.

   "Ok, ok! Just stop!"

     She released her hold on him, and he collapsed in a heap on the floor. "It....it was....it was a man by the name of Camaas Rinzlor. I don't know if that's his real name," at this point he help his hand up to his nose and began nursing it like a broken arm, "or if it's an alias. Now can I please go?"

     Camaas Rinzlor? I had never heard that name before. Lil, even though she had a helmet on, looked up and gave me a look underneath it that I could've guessed was as confused as mine. Could be a relative of someone I had hunted before, or a friend. It's happened to me before.

     "Please? Can I go?" Jukara was now beginning to get up, and he pushed himself off one knee and was standing. "That's all I know, swear. This guy had a huge payout on you. Half-a-million creds'. I couldn't turn that down."

     "Why'd you buy my armor after you supposedly had 'killed me'?" I asked.

      "Souvenir, I guess? It's not often you get the chance to buy Boba Fett's armor."

     I was about to question him further when my datapad began vibrating in my palm. It was an alert from a local holonews station.

      Breaking news:
              Local Anchorhead Twi'lek doctor, Teyor Nioq, has been found dead in his house, along with his family. His cause of death is likely murder, for his family's and as well as his death was by a knife, most likely repeated slashing. Any civilians with any information on the killer or crime is urged to come forward and reveal it.

     Teyor Nioq? That was the doctor that had helped heal me. A stab of guilt hit my consciousness. That's what he gets for helping me? Him and his whole family murdered? Someone was covering up loose ends.

     Someone was still on my tracks.

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Hey guys! Sorry it has been SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO long, but I figured u guys deserved one for being so patient with me. Please give me your feedback on what you thought, and what u think of the story so far.