Dead Eyes

This thread could not be done without the help of Dasquian Belargic, Lilaena De'Ville, and Terran Starek. Thank you very much!


Ghorman- 22 Years Before The Battle of Endor

Losing a parent is always tough. Whether the child is two, 12, or 52, it's always difficult to deal with the death of someone who gave birth, nutured, and raised them.

For Aurelias Kazaar it was even more difficult.

He hadn't been on Ghorman long. Really just showed up 'bout a day ago after Gorgja the Hutt sent him to the planet to give credits to some musician named Arakke. The teenager liked th'tunes the Bith played, 'specially the ones where Arakke had extended gasan string drum solos. The way Arakke played...man it was great t'listen to. The musician was even starting t'get experimental, using 'em in slower, more mellow songs instead of the usual upbeat tunes.

And it was th'mellower songs which appealed t'Kazaar's mood.

His parents had been th'kind which allowed their son t'be himself. They'd never been judgemental of Kazaar's actions, disciplining him when needed, but they'd mainly given him the space he needed to grow.

Kazaar's father had preached toughness to his son, mainly while taking him to the shockboxing ring where they spent plenty of time together. Young Kazaar had never bothered to ask why a professor of history at the local university was so enamoured with the 'sweet science' of shockboxing; but he was also a fan of smashball so the son just kinda figured it was one of those things.

Like his last day of school.

Kazaar's parents had been called to pick up the boy for fighting. It wasn't the first time they'd been called to the school for fighting, but this instance was different. Kazaar'd chosen a different target to extend his anger towards. They'd sat patiently in the principal's office, listening to how Kazaar had beat (rather harshly, the school counselor noted) a boy two years older than he was. Didn't matter Kazaar came to the defense of a young girl who'd been beaten or that this boy was someone who'd preyed on younger girls beforehand. Since the chuffsucker was the son of a Commerce Guild minister (and on the up-and-up) Kazaar got the shaft and got kicked out. His parents raised plenty of hell 'bout it but to no avail. In the end...they just shrugged and moved on.

And Kazaar never bothered t'ask 'bout it.

'Course there were a lot of things Kazaar didn't bother to ask...like why Kazaar's family never talked to either set of grandparents. 'Least he knew who his mom's parents were, two Alderaanian geographers or something like that. He hadn't even seen a picture of his dad's parents' so who knew where the hell they were. Or what the hell they did either. He never could figure out if it was because they were outlaws or maybe his dad was.

That was something else ya didn't talk 'bout.

But his parents fought for what they believed in, which was why they'd left a few weeks ago for some 'unnamed location'.

"It's going to be big, Aurelias," his mom's face almost beamed. She'd inherited her geographer parents love of politics, "Palpatine and his stooge, Vader, will have to listen to us. The increased taxations aren't right. They should leave us alone and let us live..."

The teenager had stopped listening after that. He had to go on an errand for Gorgja and deliver supplies and weapons to some farmers who were being harassed on one of Brentaal's plateaus. Besides, he never really figured out why his mom loved politics. Far as he was concerned, all politicians were corrupt bastards and the more they left him alone the better.

His 'errand' turned into a full-blown assault, as he defended th'farmers (who were pretty damn weak to begin with) from part of some clan of Rodians. It'd taken him 'bout two weeks to get the entire thing settled and in the end, Kazaar came out 400 creds richer and a nice scar on his right arm as a trophy.

The Alderaanian wore it with pride as he strode into Gorgja's domicile, his head upturned and a wide smirk on his face. It froze when he saw the look on the Hutt's bulbous face.

"It's your parents." Gorgja'd done a pretty good job at mastering Basic. He'd also mastered the ability t'care about his employees. Especially those who'd saved his life and had a penchant for killing. "They were a part of...an incident on Ghorman."

If he coulda frowned, Gorgja probably would have, "There was a group of protesters rallying against the Empire's taxes in the system. The commander of the ship, Tarkin, landed on them.

"They didn't make it."

He'd stared at his boss for a while, trying to figure out if this was a joke (and a pretty pitiful one at that). When Gorgja didn't change his expression, Kazaar closed his black eyes. When he opened them...it looked like he'd died with his parents.

The teen had left for Ghorman later that day, traveling in one of Gorgja's many transports. He didn't bother asking what was on it and didn't really care either. Most of the crew left him alone, although one of them slid him a bottle of Alderaanian ruge to drink. He was sullen, silent, and most importantly truly alone.

And he'd kept in his sullen mood, up until he saw the three stormtroopers walk into the bar, laughing 'bout some such thing. They were still masked, their white helmets making them even more ridiculous than ever before.

Kazaar took a drink, then started t'leave. He'd had enough for one day.

He was placing his hands into his jacket pocket, when one of the bucketheads shouldered him. The teen stumbled a moment, he hadn't been paying attention to his surroundings in the dark bar.

"Watch where you're goin'!" the stormtrooper shouted, "I swear...stupid kaffer."

Kazaar stared up at the Imperial, momentarily cursing his lack of height (his growth spurt wouldn't hit for another year or so). Then, as calmly as possible, he started to turn away.

"Hey!" the stormtrooper shouted, his buddies encouraging him from where they sat. "I'm not done talking to you." He pressed an armored finger at young Kazaar's chest. "You're going to apologize to me. Then you buy me and my buddies a drink."

"Excuse me?" Kazaar's youthful voice was low but didn't contain any sort of harshness to it.

"What're you some kinda retard?" the stormie shot back and poked him again, "I said, 'Apologize and buy me and my buddies a drink'."

The future bounty hunter exhaled, trying to keep his anger in check, "I think...you've had enough. Get outta here."

The stormtrooper's snort sounded mechanical and he poked at Kazaar's chest, this time a bit harder. "You must be retarded. We've got the power here. Ever since Tarkin landed his ship on the protesters. It's our planet you nerf-"

Kazaar's hands shot from his jacket pockets, grasping the outstretched Imperial's arm. In one motion, he spun around and pulled the stormie over his shoulder and into the air.

The trooper landed on a table and lay still, his buddies starting t'rise from their seats.

"All right," a smirk came to Kazaar's face, "Who's next?"

The three stormies looked at each other or probably did, Kazaar wasn't really sure. Those damn helmets tended t'make it tougher to see which way they were looking. He tensed his muscles, then leaped towards one of the troopers who was reaching for his blaster rifle. The two fell to the bar floor, the young man raining punches on the Imp.

The two other Imperials grabbed the Alderaanian by the shoulders, pulling him off their colleague. One of them pulled Kazaar's arms behind his back while the other landed punches on the future Rebel's face.

The teenaged Kazaar hadn't had much fight training, he was really more of a brawler. What he knew of fighting came from watching smashball and shockboxing and the punching matches he'd gotten into at school did little to prepare him for what he faced now. But he had his wits which served him well.

The stormtrooper's hand started coming towards his face again, threatening t'break his nose. Kazaar shifted his head just slightly and the punch landed on the Imp's stormtrooper pal. Kazaar felt the weight on his arms slacken and he wrenched free from the hold. He shot a booted foot out and connected with a leg and the stormie went down in pain.

Kazaar's black eyes saw a glint of a blade in the dark lighting of the bar and he took a quick step backwards. The vibroblade caught the front of his pullover shirt, leaving a long slice in the material, and a streak of blood seeped from his skin. The shock of seeing his own blood threw the Brentaal-raised Alderaanian into a bloodlust and he swung his right fist at the stormtrooper's head.

*SMACK!*

The stunned stormie took a couple steps back, either stunned by th'punch or just surprised Kazaar'd hit him. The black-haired youth winced and shook his hand in pain. He was certain he'd broken it but didn't have time t'check, as the stormtrooper started t'reach for the blaster rifle resting in his holster. Kazaar launched himself at the trooper and the two fell over a wooden table. They struggled on the ground for the rifle, each trying t'use their strength to gain advantage. It was then Kazaar spied the vibroblade lying near his left hand. He grabbed it, letting the Imp grasp the blaster, then stabbed the stormtrooper in the neck.

A mechanitized, "yelp!" came from th'trooper and Kazaar couldn't tell it was male or female. The top of the trooper's armor was soaked in blood as life drained from them. Kazaar's non-broken hand grasped the blaster rifle and he turned towards the other troopers who were just starting t'get their bearings.

His first blaster shot hit the trooper in the arm and the teenager almost dropped the rifle due to its kickback. He was more comfortable with the next shot and blew a hole in his target's chest. Kazaar dropped the second one with relative ease and smiled for the first time in weeks.

"By the Force...Ophelia!" a voice shouted from the crowd, as another stormtrooper ran towards the stabbed trooper.

Kazaar saw th'woman, no...more like a girl, lying in the pool of blood, her eyes staring lifelessly towards the ceiling. In his mind's eye, her face changed into that of his mother's and his face froze.

Kazaar didn't move when a squad of Imperials rushed into th'bar, didn't resist as binders were placed on his hands, and his face didn't change until he was sat down in an Imperial prison cell.

He was still seein' the girl's face. It'd stick with him for the rest of his life. And he'd never physically hurt another girl again.

A day later, Arakke the musicians spoke with Gorgja the Hutt.

"He did what you thought he would and did it well. The kills were art to watch. I can see why you like him Gorgja."

The Hutt laughed, "I take it he was arrested?"

A nod from the Bith, "He did. But the Imperials clearly started it first. Still..."

"I will make sure my best attorneys are on the case. It will take time to make sure Kazaar is released...but I will make sure he's let go. For my business opportunities.

"And his parents' sake."

One Year Later- Oovo IV- Desolation Alley Prison

It was the first time Kazaar'd been outside these walls inna year. The murder of three Imperial stormtroopers was normally punished by immediate execution but he'd never been charged. Never even told he if was gonna be killed by a fire squad, or if he was gonna see th'light of day. He had a feeling someone went t'bat for him, keeping the firing squad away.

In prison, though, he'd been left to his own devices, figuring out how to survive in the harsh environment. It helped he'd hit a growth spurt too, going from a scrawy, wiry boy to a tall, muscular teenager. His voice had also dropped a bit, starting to take the smooth, gutteral tone which would help him scare the frack outta allies and enemies alike.

He sauntered outta the prison area and nodded to th'man standing in the waiting area who had a cigar clenched between his teeth. It was Faara Niinimaa, Gorgja's lieutenant from Brentaal. He smiled and handed the free man a light-colored cigar and a black butane lighter.

"Enjoy it, kid. Ya first taste of freedom. Oh yeah...keep th'lighter."

Kazaar lit the cigar, a bit unevenly, and took a deep puff of smoke. He smirked in triumph. Kazaar was free.

But Niinimaa saw something in Kazaar's black eyes. Though they retained the sharpness he'd seen the year prior, there was something else in them.

Kazaar still had the eyes of a dead man.