So before you begin reading, this is just a quick summary of what events are going and what is occurring. The main protagonist, and character I will by dressing as is Nero Skirata. The story takes place just after the events of the first Death Stars destruction, and just before the 2nd Death Stars destruction. This takes place in Nero's early life, and is to set the stage for several stories I plan to write in the legacy era depending on how I like this story, and the reception from you all. I h
You know whenever you have that moment of absolute silence, when everything just seems to stand completely still when something so dramatic, life threatening and changing occurs? When your heart beat slows down to a slow, steady beat like a pendulum on a clock swinging slower with each swing? It’s these moments that are truly life memorable moments in every occurrence.
Nero Skirata was in one of these exact moments, perched upon a small, abandoned housing unit while overlooking a street in the bustling center of Coruscant somewhere in between the under and upper levels. Holding his verpine sniper rifle with complete control and precision, he scoped his target out. Another pay day, he thought as he zoomed in on the target. A male human, 43 years of age, and was enjoying a few drinks in a bar next a twi’lek dancer who was on break. The crowd around him was oblivious to everything, dancing and drinking the night away.
Jarin Rokil was a common spice smuggler, and did his job well lest the Hutts bring the Galaxy down on him. It wasn’t until this poor fool thought he could get out of his debt with the Hutts by faking his death above Ord Mantell, changing his name, and taking the spice to sell himself on Tatooine, making enough credits to him to the inner core world space. He thought he was safe and free from his debt, but then, well, he had under estimated the Hutts contacts with bounty hunters, and now was the next pay check for Nero. Business was business, and Nero found it a fun sport.
Nero held his stance for a few moments, taking easy breathes as he focused on his target. The world seemed to go dark, and soundless. As if everything slowed down a to complete stand still as his trigger finger moved inside the trigger guard, slowly forming itself around the trigger itself. What felt like an absolute eternity was a mere 30 seconds as Nero exhaled once more, squeezing the trigger, and watching his target drop like a fly on top of the Twi’lek dancer, who was now screaming for help. He had a mere few minutes before the police forces would arrive to inspect. Not that Nero was in the wrong, but bounty hunting in the core worlds, especially on Coruscant was an often frowned upon way of living, and he had neither the time nor patience to deal with the authorities.
He slung his rifle over his shoulder, turning around to activate his jet pack and leaping up to the next roof top of a market store. He ran along the top of the building, watching the digital counter inside his helmet count down until the local authorities arrived. His speeder car was parked behind an air duct extending from the building. He jumped on to it, quickly taking off and flowing in to the traffic lane near by blending in entirely. No one would know what happened, and the bounty would be deposited in to his account soon enough as soon as he sent the recorded footage to his employers. From there, they would confirm with reports of the area and make the deposit. The process usually only took a matter of minutes, which was an easy job for Nero. Dead contracts weren’t necessarily his favorite, but it put credits in to his account, and that was enough for him. Besides, finding Jarin wasn’t too difficult, for the poor man forgot to dump his freighter before checking in to Coruscant. From there, it was rather simple for Nero to track him down and predict where he would go first with his new pile of credits. Another day, another pay check he thought.
Before Nero even began to disembark his speeder, a notification was sent in to his HUD that his money had been deposited. He was sure he would be contacted shortly for another job aboard his ship, so he made haste to board his starship, the “Jackyl”. An old WR-542 “Shooting Star” class transport ship he picked up from an old friend just after the destruction of the Death Star. It was a good ship, and very fast, and with a few modifications, was quite silent and unnoticed in almost any situation. A perfect match for Nero, as he enjoyed doing his jobs clean and under the radar.
As Nero began walking up the ramp to the “Jackyl”, he could already his communicator buzzing as someone was attempting to call him. He made his way to the cockpit, sitting down and began prepping for take-off, while also looking over to see who was calling him. An unknown contact, which was his typical caller. “Nero here,” Nero said as he began warming up the engines. “Ah, Nero, good job on the human, clean and fast just like always. Keep this up, and you’ll be richer than a Republic senator my friend,” The caller said. Nero didn’t even know who his employer even was other than that he was a speaker for the Hutts. Every time the voice changed, and Nero never took to trying to find out who it was. Being paid was all he needed, and he was happy with that. “What’s the next job?” Nero said, cutting straight to the point. He was never one for small talk, and to be honest, he never enjoyed talking to anyone. They never understood the method to his lifestyle, or what he valued. “Well, this one’s a little stranger than most. I have no concrete information, other than that someone wants to meet you face to face and discuss and a job opportunity on Dantooine. I’m patching the coordinates through to you now. Be careful Nero, I don’t know this guy and he seems like real serious business. Good luck, hunter.” The communique ended, and sure enough, Nero received the landing coordinates to his navicomputer.
Throttling power to his engines, Nero pulled his ship up and off the docking pad, flying out to exit Coruscant. Punching the coordinates he received in to his hyperdrives computer, he locked in his waypoint and set to auto pilot. The ships computer took over, jumping to lightspeed as he made his way to Dantooine. Nero was never fond of outside sourced jobs, but he wasn’t up to feeling ticking off the Hutts right now. Out sourced jobs also usually ended up in a nice sum of credits, but it also typically ended up being a lot more difficult, but his way of life was never without its dangers. Another day, another pay check.
Nero left the cockpit, making his way to his bunk which was positioned in the starboard area of his starship. He took his helmet off, placing it on his armor rack just beside the bulk head leading to his bunk room. He didn’t bother taking his armor off, for he needed some rest before reaching Dantooine. His gut told him not to make this employer wait too long on him, and he always trusted his gut feeling.
Nero laid down on his bunk, shutting his eyes and listening to the calming hum of the hyperdrive as it warmed up for the jump to lightspeed. A loud, and all too familiar whirring as it spooled up and ignited. The ship launched in to hyperspace, and Nero fell asleep catching some much needed sleep after his trek through the concrete jungle of Coruscant. Nero would need this rest, for what was to come would soon show who Nero truly was, and what he was capable of.