Ah, hello. If you’re
listening to this, I am surely dead. However,
I’ve lived a larger life than the crime I’m being punished for, and if only out
of vanity, I find myself compelled to share my story. Who knows where these datatapes will end up.
Aimless, like an asteroid.
I heard that in a song once, soon after my exile. At first the line had felt freeing: Floating
through the galaxy, picking up jobs as I could, beholden to no one but
myself. Little did I know the trail of
debts and death I left behind. A trail that’s now caught up to me.
Not to say being a bounty hunter I expected to be
popular. But the freedom was
exhilarating. I remember drunkenly
shouting once on Hapes. “Look at Alderaan?
Those people lived good lives! But
what did it get them?” Oh, to be young. It made sense to me at the time, but now the
inadequacy is obvious. If we’re going to
die anyway, better to die at home, surrounded by loved ones. But we were all young then, and everyone
applauded.
Ahh, Hapes. Was there
ever a better system to spend one’s wasteful youth? They saw me as a hairy outlander, a curiosity,
but that made me more tantalizing. Satisfaction
was always mutual, if fleeting.
Hapes was where I got my start as a hunter, too. Hurting for credits I saw on the nets a small
bounty to capture a smuggling captain operating there. He was running fruits from the moons to the cities,
underselling every merchant around by skipping customs. Not exactly a glorious catch, but everyone’s
got to start somewhere. Handsome fellow,
but I had already known not to mix work with pleasure. I turned him in for 2000 credits and a guild
cred.
I should have expected the backlash. Blasted youth, thinking I’d be immune to all
consequences. Heh – if that young Wook
could see me now. Well, I burned through
a lot of that bounty to take a transport further into the core. I comforted myself that I’d be getting
further from Kashyyyk.
I went to Coruscant because I’d heard the Empire was good
for bounty hunters. Stupid of me, really.
Coruscant was a hellhole in those days.
Maybe it’s a hellhole again by now.
Anyway, it’s true the Empire paid good credits for bounty hunters, but
only on the outer rim. At the core all
the crime had been cleaned up – or recruited.
Still, I wasn’t the only fool in the galaxy. There were plenty of hungry hunters looking
for a government contract. Being a Wookie
excluded me from such a deal, of course.
Wandering the undercity on my last credits, desperate for a transport
off Coruscant, or at least employment, is when I first met Bossk. He still wore his yellow jumpsuit, even in
those days, with a hole in the back for his green scaly tail. Everyone knows Wookies are strong, so it wasn’t
hard for him to find a place for me on his crew. Said they were heading to the outer rim for
more lucrative opportunities.
That guy’s shouting over the comm again. Funny how easy it’s become to tune him
out. I’ll be long gone soon. Wonder how long it will take for him to check.
Oh, what a time we had together, Bossk and I. Intercepting Rebel gunrunners for the
Imperials, then blasting Imperial supply convoys for the Rebels. Since Yavin the Rebels had gotten cocky. It wasn’t hard to gain their confidence. “Down with the Empire, Long Live the
Republic,” and you were as good as in.
After a few weeks of steady pay (hell, we considered joining the
Rebellion for real!) we stole a bacta shipment and delivered it to an Imperial
Destroyer. Got 20 large for that
delivery. Well, and another surprise.
See, Kashyyyk fought the Empire hard at first. I guess you could say we were the first rebels. When order 66 came down we protected the Jedi
in our midst and destroyed the clones.
But the Jedi abandoned us and a few months later the Empire landed
dozens of battalions and returned the favor.
When we surrendered they enslaved us all, though they found it harder to
actually subdue us. So the label stuck
around, but not their ships. That was
the reality I was born into. Only way I
got through Coruscant was to edit my papers that I was my own owner. Oh, sure, lots of people scoffed – but who
wants a street fight with a Wookie?
Anyway, there I go walking into an Imperial Star-Destroyer
with a shipment of Bacta. Officer Bootlicker’s
lucky day! They cuffed me in binders
on-sight. When I protested they ionized
my ownership tags without even checking, wiping them. They would have got me then but for Bossk’s
forked tongue. He said he’d bought me
off a slave freighter and insisted he be paid triple what he spent on me. He could have asked for something reasonable –
or nothing at all – and let me die in an imperial cell, but he didn’t. I hope he ends up alright. A true friend to the end, he was.
I was more careful after that not to interact with Imperials
directly. I settled into the role of the
intimidating muscle of Bossk’s crew. Aimless
as an asteroid, but an asteroid loves a belt, for a little while. Aimless together ain’t as aimless. Few had ever gone toe-to-toe with a Wookie,
and fewer wanted to. Those that did soon
regretted it. A Bothan got a nail into
my eye one time. I tore him apart, but
the eye was gone. Fortunately, Bossk had
some connections in the Kamino system, and for an extra 30% he gave me an
implant to make it better than ever. I
with a certain wink I could see heat, scent traces, and even through certain
metals if they were old enough. Made
robbing backwater banks a cinch, and that’s what we did for a few months before
the recall. Easy credits.
Soon I got bored of this, and my accounts were overflowing
with credits. Some bounty hunters, like
Bossk, got a thrill from the hunt, but I never did. And with enough credits in those days to buy
a Naboo waterfront estate, I decided I could afford to retire. At the next port I purchased my own ship and settled
whatever debt I had to Bossk.
Aimless as an asteroid, but an asteroid loves a
belt, for a little while. Aimless together ain’t as aimless. But even in
a belt, they collide. A hard enough
knock makes them wander off again
Without Bosk, Rough Hide became my closest companion. A belt of two.
(Hm. Rough Hide
will be the last thing that sees me alive, if this works. She’s a good ship. I expect she’ll be blasted once he realizes I’ve
left.)
Anyway, free of obligation I was beholden to no one but
myself. I whittled the days away in
luxury, learning the games of the high rollers, taking on jobs when my luck
turned sour.
Yeah, yeah, I hear ya!
My time has come, it’s my due to suffer.
Look, I don’t think he’s wrong.
But that doesn’t mean I’m glad he’s right.
My clan was having dinner in the trees – the sky was one of
those wonderful hues I’ve only seen on Kashyyyk, He tried to take Big-Bog’s meal. I swatted at him to keep him at bay. “Don’t bother the elder, little one.” But my paw missed and I caught him with my
claws.
Of course, I was horrified.
Even when Wookie clans battled, claws were never used. Even in the heat of a duel for control of a
river delta, claws were never used. Even
though they were always out – impossible to retract and hide – claws were never
used for violence. Our refusal to use
them in battle is a proud sign of our civilization. Wookie claws are an accident of nature. We strive to rise above them. Even in my time as an exile I haven’t been
able to bring myself to use them for violence – though I’ve threatened when necessary.
But there I was, bloody hair and even some flesh hanging off
my claw in the middle of dinner. I
apologized but it was no use. Big-Bog
refused to even hear me out and her word was our law. Only by good luck did I find a logging crew
willing to smuggle me off-world.
Otherwise I would have died out there – a lesson to the clan that
intentions are only as good as your follow-through. With the Empire in charge, even mistakes can
be costly.
All through my retirement the Empire continued to grow. During a Sabaac championship on Cloud City
they took control of Bespin. I barely
escaped with my life – and none of the winnings. But I made a good profit in the Anoat slave
trade and spent some weeks there catching my breath. A simple life of swamp mining and toxin
filtering. They said Anoat had once been
something like Kashyyyk, until the Empire came.
They tore apart the planet for resources, and had made living on the
surface impossible. But enough years had
gone by that the air was livable, if unpleasant. By mining energy gases from the swamps and cleaning
up the air, those locals still around hoped to restore their planet. Seemed as good as any place to live out my
exile, until the unmistakable shape of a Star Destroyer was seen coming into
orbit, and several probe droids were seen scanning the land.
The Empire was becoming unavoidable and I knew I wouldn’t
evade them forever. With their recent
defeats, the Rebellion was harder to track down than ever. I sold what land I owned at Anoat – at a huge
loss. As I left the system I put out a
call for Bossk, but didn’t receive any answer.
But his signal indicated he was on Coruscant. With no other connections in the whole galaxy,
that’s where I went. It was either that
or Tatooine, and who wants to work for the Hutts?
As ever, my timing was bad.
From the cantina window people pointed to the wreckage of Falleen’s Fist;
Xixor’s luxury skyhook was just scrap metal now. Black Sun was broken, giving the Empire the
definite upper hand in the system. Those
with money and brains were leaving the system, while those with just brains
were contracting their services to the Empire.
Money, I had. Brains –
debatable. But it had been a long flight
to the core and I needed to refuel before I could leave. I rented a small room for the night.
I’d been by then 15 years in exile and had nothing to show
for it. Disaster seemed to follow me. Kashyyyk. Coruscant.
Bespin. Anoat. And now Coruscant again, and I’d only just
arrived! And then came another louder
thought: What did you expect? You
abandon Anoat as soon as the Empire arrives.
You sold Arck. You left
Bossk. You stole from the Rebels. You betrayed Hapes. It’s you, Snoova! No wonder no one wants you around. You’re a selfish monster.
Monster. The
word bounced around in my head. I heard
every voice I’d never known say it.
Over, and over, and over. Monster. I found myself screaming in the hotel room,
just to drown them out. We all have one
night that’s longer than any other in our life – this one was mine.
The next morning my comm was blinking when I woke up. Rough Hide was fueled up and ready to
go. I had to start over. I didn’t want to self-destruct, full of these
resentments, and fearful of them. I couldn’t
undo what I did but I could make a better future. I could at least try.
When I arrived at the fueling station, the owner said they
hadn’t reached out. The Empire was
commandeering all fuel, and I’d need to wait.
I took Rough Hide back.
Fuel’s needed for hyperspace jumps, or maneuvering jets. For flying around a planet even a small
amount will last for weeks. It at least
would save me the cost of lodging.
My comm was still blinking.
I clicked it as I looked for a place to land in the plains.
“Snoova, that really you?” Came a familiar voice, “Well I’ll
be. We heard you got phased in Bespin
during the tournament. I’m sending you
my location – swing on by. Things have
really gone dank ferrik since Xixor died.
Could use a big fellah like you.”
Bossk! I’d nearly
forgotten I’d reached out to him. But
why would he want to see a traitorous monster like me? Then it came back to me. I’d left Bossk, yes, but on good terms. Even paid him a pretty sum. It’s rare one gets second chances like that. Time to make a home.
Bossk welcomed me with open arms. With the death of Xixor, loyalty was hard to
come by. But we’d been under plenty of
fire together. His crew was glad to add to
their numbers without also adding to their suspicions.
The Imperial fuel seizure led to chaos in the streets. Storage tanks were siphoned by locals and
Imperials alike. Fuel processing plants
were raided, reinforced, then raided again.
Any arriving starship had to hire armed escorts to ensure what extra
fuel they had wasn’t stolen – and then hope those escorts proved loyal. Coruscant was becoming a dangerous island in
a big, black sea.
With no way to leave we spent those days offering protection
to cantinas and casinos, and attacking those who deemed our protection
unnecessary until they saw things our way.
With no outland contacts our goal was to survive. In some ways our smaller operation made us
luckier. Gambling vaults aren’t as
combustible as fueling stations.
Then one fine day we woke up to a clear sky. You gotta understand – Coruscant’s sky is a
mess of starships and orbital stations.
But one day we woke up and there it was – a clear, maroon sky. Prettier than you’d expect!
The Empire’s brass had left Coruscant. There were some guards and bureaucrats left
behind, of course, but the clear skies had said it all. The Empire was on the move, and were leaving
us behind.
You may have expected such a stroke of luck would have led
to celebration, but in fact it only sparked battle between the different gangs
to act. Without the Empire’s
overwhelming oppression, or Xixor’s charismatic vision, to unite them, each
gang seized the opportunity for control.
The chaos in the streets for fuel was replaced by well-planned attacks,
cease-fire summits, and the entire razing of difficult-to-control
neighborhoods. What control we had
carved out for ourselves was suddenly subject, we were informed, to the supervision
of the Blukes. A few dozen enforcers
with blasters and detonators offered us protection in exchange for
loyalty. Well, we knew too well what
refusal could bring. We paid the
protection.
But Blukes proved to be less capable at providing protecting
than at ensuring they got paid. After
running out some Kami Society thugs trying to get a hold on our casinos, Blukes
insisted we pay them for the weapons we’d been using. Well, enough was enough! Bossk shared my resentments, and we
determined to act before they could squeeze us for any more.
We sent an emissary to the Kami Society and offered to switch
allegiances. They were suspicious of our
eagerness to abandon Blukes, and who could blame them? Blukes’ falling influence was no secret. But even when we explained our reason had more
to do with personal grievance than abandoning a crashing ship, they were
unmoved. If we were to be trusted, we’d
have to sever ties with Blukes completely.
The plan was simple.
We’d have to bring them the head of Blukes. Ummm, the head of the head of Blukes, that
is. Simple, right?
Luckily, Moury Bluke was an arrogant leader. You’d have to be to name your gang after
yourself – an attribute usually left to the Hutts. It was surprisingly easy to get a meeting
with him. He relished the opportunity to
smack down stupidity. So we requested
several thousand credits worth of weapons.
He demanded an audience with us. When we arrived, my bionic eye told us where
his traps were and when our own guns were in position. We let him shout himself hoarse and then bang
bang our little crew took down one of the major gangs of Couruscant. I used my vibro-ax to finish the job. I had heard Nautolan’s necks particularly
sturdy. His, at least, was not. Maybe weighed down by such a fat head. Another betrayal, but at least one to feel
good about.
The sudden collapse of Blukes had unintended consequences. It was like a wampa with its head cut off,
blindly terrorizing anything unlucky enough to be nearby. The Kami Society were not interested in their
territory outside our casinos, and the chaos spread. Without the manpower to control the damage
the remaining Imperials withdrew further into the capitol building. The locals gathered outside the palace and
demanded support. Coruscant may be the
capital of the galaxy, but it’s denizens are among the simplest. The Empire’s oppression elsewhere had
inspired resistance, but here the people had been ignored by the Republic so
long they were at least glad for some attention finally. But to be forgotten again?
Well, not fully forgotten.
Some stormtroopers and snipers fired into the crowd, scattering it.
Kami Society saw an opportunity to do what Xixor had failed
to achieve. While much of the city was
consumed by desperate Blukes fighting for any chance at power, we were ordered
to focus on the Empire. Bossk and I were
put on the front lines – a testament to how we had proven ourselves against
Kami, though now that I think about it if we died heroically they wouldn’t have
to pay our ever increasing salaries any more.
That sure would have been a more heroic end.
Well, anyway, while we did that, others were sent around the
sector to rile up the population. We
promised them food, credits, jobs, and peace.
A New Order for Couruscant. Rather
than be have their interests drowned out in a galactic bureaucracy we would see
to it that their voices were heard locally, and their needs met readily. A porg in every pot and two droids for every
household. That sort of thing.
The battle at the palace is too easy to bother
recounting. The imperials were quickly
overwhelmed and surrendered. We didn’t
bother taking any prisoners. From
experience we knew that the Rebels sometimes paid for prisoners to be returned,
but the Empire never did. When I came
out and lowered Blukes banner from the top balcony, the gathered crowd pushed
over the statue of the Emperor.
The palace was a rich place indeed, and we all grew fat off
the plunder, though it was spoiled by…
Well, there was a zoo in the palace.
The beings inside had been denied for quite a time, and most were dead
by the time we found them. In one cage we
found two wookies, dead and in an embrace.
I looked away almost as soon as I saw them, but the image was burned in
my mind. Sometimes when I can’t sleep at
night I see the two of them. I guess
that’s something I won’t have to deal with any more.
Better aimless than caged, sure. But better free and alone than captive with
company? I couldn’t say for sure. It’s been so long since I’d really enjoyed
flesh. That’s a regret I have. And that I didn’t give them a proper
burial. I still wonder what their names
were.
Then came the most unexpected news possible over the
net. The Empire had built another Death
Star and it had been destroyed! You’d
think with a name like that they would have realized the irony after the first
one. Well, anyway, it was impossible to
separate the defeat of the Death Star with our taking of the palace. I’ve seen some docuvids claim the riot
outside the palace was in response to the Death star’s destruction, instead of
days before.
But as before, there was no time for us to celebrate. Taking control of the Imperial Center had
given us unexpected responsibility. Citizens
were now petitioning Kami Society to wipe out whatever gang controlled their sector.
Bossk and I went on a few patrols,
making deals with local gangsters – assuming they didn’t make us kill them. After we cleaned up a neighborhood the
residents would pay us for the trouble, and pay us to ensure they didn’t fall
to another gang. Within a year or so the
capital was pacified, with Kami Society squarely in charge, with a nice profit
margin.
But throughout that year Coruscant never felt like
home. I found I yearned for
greenery. Artificial parks didn’t do it,
nor the copious plants I filled my domicile with. Aimless as an asteroid, but I’d been
aimless by choice. How different was I
than those Wookies from the zoo? Only the
only person keeping me away from Kashyyyk was me. I knew where I would fit in. Would they take me in? The Empire was collapsing. Perhaps they’d be in a generous mood. I had to try.
I had avoided it for so long, but now it was becoming clear. I’d never
feel at peace until I went back to Kashyyyk.
Bossk was the first person I told and he didn’t understand. Coruscant had everything! What would I find in the forest I couldn’t
have here? But when that didn’t change
my mind, he relented. We raised a toast
to our good times, and I made him swear if he was in the sector he’d drop by,
though I didn’t really believe him.
Doesn’t matter now.
When I approached Kami Society about leaving they were not
surprised. Governing Coruscant was no
gangster business and they’d seen a lot of people leave for galactic sectors less…
lawful. Hardly any shortage now – seemed
every day news came over the nets of another Imperial system in revolt. The Rebels had their hands full supporting the
uprisings.
This actually worked to our advantage, though has proven my
doom. Since the Death Star blew up, the
return of the Republic seemed to be inevitable. Blukes had been in negotiations with the
Rebels to establish their capital somewhere besides Coruscant. To demonstrate their good faith, they had
agreed to a trade deal. And, “Since you’re
heading toward the rim anyway,” I was assigned to deliver the goods to the
Rebels. Bossk would come along for the
return run. One final job together.
We met them on the third moon of Lantilles, a remote system
that’s about halfway between Coruscant and wherever the Rebellion is now
commanded (They refused to say). We
showed our wares, they showed theirs, we swapped, and we were on our way. One of the Rebels sounded familiar – if only
I’d realized why then. I let slip I was
going to Kashyyyk. Stupid. Hm, maybe it wasn’t just youth – maybe I’m
just stupid.
“Always good to have a drink to grease the farewells.” Bossk had grumbled afterwards as we loaded up
his ship. “Of course the Rebels are
clean as a whistle – not a barstool in sight!”
As his loading crane brought up the last of the supplies, he gave me a
nod and raised his hand. “Well, good
luck, Snoova. And if the forest doesn’t
work for you either, you know where to find me.”
Then he boarded Hound’s Tooth with a simple wave. I got in Rough Hide and watched his
ship disappear into the sky as the engine roared to life up. Time to go home.
Lifting off from Lantilles III, I gave a wave to the Rebels
on the landing platform. It hadn’t occurred
to me to say anything before, but I suddenly realized I owed them a debt of
gratitude almost equal to what I owed Bossk.
My homecoming was only possible because of their fight against the
Empire. I’d always struggled only for
myself. These guys had made the galaxy
better for everyone. The viewport gave
way to black as I turned from the bare moon, and then the stars stretched out
as I entered Hyperspace.
When I exited hyperspace, I was filled with warmth as I saw
Kashyyyk’s green sheen even from a distance.
A planet I had rarely seen, but had always known. The hope that filled me in that moment was
overwhelming. Ashes in my mouth now.
No sooner did I return to realspace than I was hailed by a Lambda-class
shuttle. Imperials, I feared at
first until that familiar voice came through the frequency. Turns out that Rebel at had recognized me and
Bossk from our bacta theft.
“Boss says I had to let the lizard go – we need to work with
Kami Society for now. But you’re no
longer in their employ, which means you’re mine.”
A blue blast came from the laser cannons and engulfed my
viewport, blue energy crackling throughout my ship. Rough Hide shut down.
“Lotta folks needed that bacta.” He said as a tractor beam took hold of my
ship and pulled me in.
I tried to reason with him.
It was a long time ago! The war
was over! Maybe he’d take my ship and
give me an escape pod to Kashyyyk? I’d
retired from being a Bounty Hunter, not once but twice! No effect.
His response stirs in my head.
“What’s done is done.
When the Galaxy needed your support, you preferred profit. And those people are still dead.”
And so we arrive at today.
The final day. I’ve been held up in my own ship like chattel, slowing
getting through my supplies, bearing his insults when he deigns to speak to me. Kashyyyk is long gone from the viewport. Who knows where I am now? No one will rescue me.
Every few hours I ask for my accuser to show himself, to
give some kind of identification. Maybe
a fair fight? He always refuses. My bionic eye shows a good few meters between
my ship and his. No chance to reach him. Says that bacta was to assist a planet
dealing with a fungal plague. The
mushrooms would get into the food and the proteins would distribute into the
bloodstream. Then the mushrooms would
grow anew right in the blood stream.
Sounds terrible, right.
“You deserve no better.”
But if I’m going to die, it won’t be for someone else’s
satisfaction. Systems are still locked
down, tractor beam firmly holding me in place.
But there is still hope of escape.
I can force open the landing ramp, and then I’ll get sucked into space. With any luck my tormentor is asleep and will
miss my ejection. He hasn’t haunted me
over the comm in quite some time. I assume he expects me to beg for mercy. Instead I’ll slip out, unnoticed.
For so long I’ve wandered, and never tried to return. That aim would have served me. I will never see Kashyyyk again. Big Bog may be dead, but I could apologize to
that little one. Maybe work out a deal. Too late now.
Aimless as an asteroid, but an asteroid loves a
belt, for a little while. Aimless together ain’t as aimless. But even in
a belt, they collide. A hard enough
knock makes them wander off again. Tell
me sugar, don’t you wanna be aimless as an asteroid?
Asteroids may be aimless, but that doesn’t mean they like
it. All asteroids – all kinds of rock,
really – wander until they crash into a planet, and become part of it. That’s what the songs never tell you. That’s all I want – to be part of something
bigger. At least they died in each other’s
arms. I wonder where my body will finally
end up. Or will it wander forever? Forever aimless.
To whoever is hearing this, if you get to Kashyyyk, go see
it’s green roofs and brown pillars, hear late-night games around the fires,
smell the sap of the trees, taste the meat, or even just feel the rough bark on
your palm. If you can’t do that, give this
to someone who will be going there. And
if you can’t, think of me when you pass by.
When you see that beautiful green in the blackness. Maybe, maybe it will ease my passing.
Alright. Here we go. One. Two. Thr-
Copyright ©️ 2020 Maslow Stories.
