yes, you can close your long dropped jaw. it is finally here! the moment you've all been waiting for! yes, i can see the suspense in some of your faces, this is about our favourite KotOR character! now, calm down, don't jump around and get a seizure! (especially our 'older' members :p) this is your very own! (well, my very own) HK 47 FANFIC!
*thunderous applause*

:D

okay, i'll give a more sane introduction. this is the story of HK-47, our favourite assassin droid from the KotOR series and it takes place after the battle of Koseyet. i did a check in Wookieepedia and noted that they used the "galaxy's guide to droids" and "SW Galaxies: trials of obi wan" as sources. i'm not very sure about Galaxies, but the "guide to droids" is an authentic source, so i used the info it gave and compiled my story. it is set 2.5 years ABY (after battle of yavin). The rebellion is very much existent and may play a minor part in the story, but the main character is HK himself. i think it is high time that we had our very own story about him.
© RC 1162 2006.

check here (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/HK-47#.22Retirement.22_on_Mustafar) for more info

and one more thing:
w00t! 2000 bay-beh! :D

http://i63.photobucket.com/albums/h127/RC1162/hkficheader.jpg)

“I told you we should have never bothered coming here,” complained Dale. “There’s nothing here other than a bunch of destroyed droids and a whole lot of lava.”

“Why don’t you stop complaining and look at this from a different point of view?” his friend, Alan, said. “Haven't you heard of the Battle of Koseyet?”

The two men were smugglers, and had come to Mustafar on hearing about a source of treasure near the Koseyet mining camp. The Battle of Koseyet had taken place about a year ago and was fought between the locals and an army of assassin and combat droids built by the famed HK-47. The locals eventually won, of course and sought to destroy the leader of the army himself, but all they received was a message confirming that HK-47 was still functioning effectively and it gave the locals its admiration at being able to defeat its army. They also received a decorative hologram of the assassin droid and a plaque that read “Meatbag”. The droid had never been heard of since.

“Yeah, I know what it is,” said Dale in a bored voice as he followed his partner around the large igneous rock-formed valley, with two rivers of lava flowing on either side. Far enough to render the place safe to travel without a heat shield but close enough to make them sweat profusely anyway. He took a swig from a large bottle slung on his shoulder and kicked the destroyed remains of a unit from HK-47’s army. “So what treasure are we after anyway?” he continued.

“Isn't that what we came here to find out?” replied Alan. “The Hutt on Nar Shaddaa gave us this valley as the alleged area to locate the treasure.”

“Are you seriously going to give him 50% of what we find?” Dale asked.

“Yes, of what we find,” said Alan with a wry smile as they trudged along on the rocky terrain. “And as far as I know, the Hutt has no way of knowing how much we find.”

Dale grinned at that and took another sip of his water. He had sealed the bottle just in time, because the next second, he was falling onto the ground. He landed hard on the hot surface and the wind was knocked out of him. As he lay there, gasping for breath, Alan was inspecting what was now near Dale’s feet. The latter managed to get his breath back and sat up a bit, nursing his forearm, which he had hit hard on the ground, trying to cushion his fall.

“Maybe this can be used to our advantage,” said Alan, peering intently at the object.

“What is it?” asked Dale as he got to his knees and began examining the wreckage. It was a broken droid, just like the others, but this droid’s torso seemed relatively undamaged.

“This droid seems to be more undamaged than the others. We could probably take its memory core and try to find out about the treasure.” Alan said.

“Good idea, but I heard that the droids that fought in this battle had memory cores that had to be installed in another droid unit to be read or accessed,” said Dale. “We need another droid to get the info out of this.”

“We’ll take care of that later,” said Dale. “First things first, remove its memory core.”

Dale took out a small fusioncutter and a pressure screwdriver that he always carried and proceeded to remove the chest plate of the broken droid. After several minutes of cursing and banging, the plate was off and the two smugglers were staring at a mess of charred wires and circuit boards. They could see a hole in the back plate of the torso which suggested that a sniper shot had taken it out.

“I don’t have any hopes for the memory core if the internal assembly is so kaput,” said Dale. “But I’ll check anyway.”

He yanked out wires and circuits, searching for the rounded cuboid of a memory core. For the first few minutes, he had no luck. Then he spotted it: the core was wedged into the droid’s upper torso between its shoulders. Carefully, he pulled it off the leads and removed it from the droid body.

“Okay, now we need a droid to read the memory core,” said Dale.

“No problem,” said Alan. “We can use the C model droid that is taking care of the ship.”

“That droid?” said Dale with a laugh. “It doesn’t even belong to us. How can we get authorization to replace its memory core?”

“We do what we do best,” replied Alan with a grin as he started walking back to the docking bay.
************************************************** **********************
The space yacht streaked through hyperspace and Dale worked on replacing the memory core of the C-3PO model droid they had stolen from the docking bay on Mustafar.

“Are you sure that the docking bay guard won’t manage to put two and two together and get us effectively banned from setting foot on that planet again?” said Dale as he worked. Alan was lounging in a seat nearby and looked very relaxed.

“Calm down,” he said. “When we manage to locate the treasure, we’ll just buy them a new droid.”

“So, why are we going to Nar Shaddaa now?” Dale asked.

“I have an engineer pal who sells his services on the black market, very expensive fella.” Alan said. “But I managed to save his neck from the authorities once and ever since, he’s been giving me free services. I’d like to make a copy of the stuff in this droid’s memory core, just in case we need it later on.”

Dale nodded and continued his work. Fifteen minutes later, when Alan had fallen asleep on the chair with his feet on the table and balancing himself precariously on the two back legs of the chair, Dale announced his success triumphantly,

“Done it!” he shouted.

CRASH!

The shout had startled Dale’s napping partner and caused him to fall over backwards off the chair.

“I hate it when you do that,” said Alan as he pulled himself to his feet, rubbing the back of his head.

“Sorry about that,” said Dale as Alan took his seat. “But I finished the droid.”

“Good job,” congratulated Alan. “Switch it on, let’s see what happens.”

Dale flipped the power switch of the droid and stepped back. The servomotors of the droid whirred to life and its photoreceptors glowed brightly. With a grind of gears, it managed to sit upright, and then stood up.

“Query: Where am I, sentient?” it said.

Dale and Alan exchanged a small glance.

“We rescued your memory core from a pile of rubble on a distant planet, droid,” said Alan. “And now, if you would be so kind as to return the favour and provide us the information we need, we’d highly appreciate that.”

Great opening Chapter RC and I like the Title (Sounds HK-ish). HK will be funny as always (I hope) and I'm looking foward to the next Chapter. Also will you continue with the Galactic Conquest Trilogy?

Oh my god! A HK fic! I am so reading this! But i still ain't. :lol: I'll read it later, too busy.

hehe, no problem, take your time.
@ Pottsie, yes, i'll do it like you :D two fics together. i hope i dont get confused now. :D

Aahhh, so this continues on that HK's appearance in Galaxies? Well, you've got me interested.

well, ive never played galaxies, per se. i just got the info from the link in my first post. it seems to be enough.
thanks for the interest. i knew you'd like it :D

Neither did I, but there was a post here on the forums about his appearance there.

Liked the chapter. Dale and Alan don't know who they're messing with, and HK's in for a big surprise.

@ Pottsie, yes, i'll do it like you :D two fics together. i hope i dont get confused now. :D

Well I suppose you could delay the Galactic Conquest for awhile. I tried doing too many Fics at the same time and it wrecked my life. Well not really, just made writing alot harder.

yeah, i know. i'm not really in the jig with GC right now, cant think straight, so i started this. Don't worry, that wont go forgotten. HK FANS HEAD HERE!!! :D

EDIT: next chapter, HK gets a surprise all right, but "deals" with it :D (pun totally intended :p)

The restored droid looked down at itself and noticed its silver C-3PO model body.

“Statement: This is not the proper shell a droid of my build,” it said.

“Yeah, well, that’s all we could find,” said Alan. “Live with it.”

“Query: How would you like a profitable deal, sentient?” the droid asked after a few minutes. The two smugglers exchanged glances once again and looked back at the droid.

“What kind of deal?” asked Dale.

“Answer: One which will be very profitable to you, sentient. I believe I already mentioned that.”

“Okay, you’ve got our attention,” said Alan. “What are the terms?”

“Specifications: Build me my original body shell and I shall reward you sufficiently and also provide you with the information you seek.” The droid said.

“So, where is your bank account?” asked Dale.

“Statement: That is irrelevant,” replied the droid. “The deal will be observed, provided you keep up your end of the bargain.”

“Okay, tin can,” said Alan. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
************************************************** **********************
Nar Shaddaa was the same as ever, gloomy skies with the occasional greasy drizzle of rain. There were no rules on this moon. It was a ‘hunt or be hunted’ type of place, and Alan and Dale were very proficient in the position of hunters. They took the droid to Alan’s engineer friend’s hideout. His name, it seemed, was Xan.
The door of Xan’s high-security warehouse creaked open and inside stood a small man, around his 40s, most probably.

“Xan, how’s life?” said Alan with a small smile and Dale nodded to the engineer.

“As interesting as a life can get on Nar Shaddaa,” replied Xan with a mirror of Alan’s smile. “Come on in.”

The trio walked into the huge warehouse and Xan shut the door and code-locked it behind him.

“So, what do you need, old friend?” asked Xan, coming up to the smugglers and their rescued droid. Alan explained all about how they had found the droid’s memory core and needed Xan to build a new body shell for it.

“We believe this droid has the information we need to locater the treasure,” said Alan. “But it says that we have to give it back its original body shell to do that.”

Xan looked at the protocol droid.

“I would be able to do it, but I need the blueprints of its original body shell.” Xan said.

“Statement: That is not a problem, sentient,” said the droid. “I have the blueprints stored in my memory banks. My manufacturer did so to help him out in case I had to be repaired in an emergency. I will need a pair of datacards.”

Xan took the droid to his workbench and gave it two datacards. The droid asked for its torso plate to be removed. Once done, it located a thin slot in his memory core that Dale and Alan had somehow missed. Inserting the datacards in succession into the slot, the droid downloaded all the plans onto them.

“Excellent,” said Xan, taking the cards. “I’ll be done in about a week.
************************************************** **********************
A week was a long time to be stuck on a backwater world like Nar Shaddaa, but Alan and Dale were used to this place and knew most of it like the back of their hands. They spent most of the time on Alan’s yacht and played Sabacc or Pazaak while the droid wandered around the ship, occasionally exchanging garble with the ship’s AI navi-computer. Finally the 168 hours of waiting were over and the group made their way back to Xan’s warehouse.

“It’s nothing like I’ve ever seen before,” the small engineer said, going up to a humanoid object covered with a white sheet. “I’ve run a Holo-Net search on this design but with no avail. It seems the design and make of this model is unique.”

Xan yanked the sheet to reveal a tall droid body shell. It was deactivated, but the exterior was clearly an amazing sight for both the smugglers and a source of personal pride for Xan at being able to build the unique design.

“I’ve made some upgrades and adjustments according to our latest technology and I can guarantee you that this droid is equipped with the finest of today’s technology.”

“So,” Alan said, staring at the droid body. “How much will it set us back?”

“At my calculations, a hundred and twenty-two thousand, four hundred and sixty-five credits for the material themselves, and a further two thousand credits for my services, but because you helped me out that time, I’ll cut it down to a thousand.”

“But you told me you would give me free services from then on!” complained Alan.

“Don’t kid yourself,” said Xan. “This thing really had me pulling some of the most dangerous strings ever. I think I deserve a pretty good amount for it, even if only this once.”

“Alright,” grumbled Alan. “We’ll see what we can do.”

Xan turned to the C-3PO model, which was silent all throughout the exchange.

“So, what do you think of it?” he asked the droid. “Is it to your specifications?”

“Observation: It appears you have changed my original paint scheme to black and rust red,” said the droid.

“Ah, yes,” said Xan. “I thought a black and red color scheme would look better on a frame like this. I’ve also updated your photoreceptors. They are now blue.”

“Request: I would like my memory core to be transferred now, sentient,” said the droid.

Xan nodded and got to work. He was finished in record time and activated the new droid. Its photoreceptors gleamed a bright blue and it suddenly had a menacing look about it with the black and red paint.

“Thank you for returning me to my original body, meatbags,” said the droid. “I suppose it is time for proper introductions. I am HK-47, a fully functional assassin droid hand-crafted originally by Darth Revan himself.”

All the three men in the warehouse widened their eyes in shock.

“You are the HK-47?” said Dale with fear evident in his voice. “The leader of the droid army on Mustafar?”

“Correct, meatbag. I was leading the droid troops against those who I believed had taken my original body from me. However, my troops were defeated, but I survived and escaped to one of my hideouts on Mustafar. I was going to eliminate a particular meatbag on one fateful day when I was hit by a sniper shot to my back. However, thanks to your assistance, I am now in proper working order.”

This clarification had a severe effect on the two smugglers. They brought their rifles up and, targeting lasers on HK, pulled the triggers. They failed to realize what was between the droid and themselves and the first volley hit Xan and dropped him in 2 seconds.

“Damn!” cursed Alan and he fired again at HK. However, the droid was ready this time and a semi-transparent reddish shield formed itself in a sphere around the droid. The laser bolts of Dale and Alan just bounced off the newly established shield. HK brought his mechanical right arm up and a panel opened up on his forearm. A small tube whirred into view and spat fire at the pair of smugglers. The flamethrower effectively set both Alan and Dale on fire, causing them to drop their blasters and run around in an excruciating hysteria, screaming and writhing, rolling on the ground, but the flames overcame them and they were nothing but charred corpses in the next few minutes.

“Stupid meatbags,” HK mumbled. He went up to Xan’s workbench and took the two datacards that contained his updated schematics. Inserting them in succession into a datapad, he quickly noted all the changes into his memory, and then took both the datacards in his metallic palm. Gears worked as HK’s palm closed into a hard, durasteel fist, effectively crushing the datacards to pieces. He opened his palm and let the splinters fall. Then he went up to the blasters that the smugglers had dropped and picked them up. Slinging both of them over his shoulder, he left the warehouse.

Another great Chapter. I wouldn't have given HK a new body, but I suppose it was for the best. I'm looking foward to more. Galactic Conquest Fics like yours aren't the type of Fics I write, so I might understand why you can't write anything else for the moment.

Ah, things are starting to get interesting. I'm a little disapointed with a black frame, but it doesn't matter, because the rest looks good.
I was thinking of writing a fic called Masters of HK-47, but it would look too much like Jae's Adventures of Jolee Bindo, so I changed my mind.

A really good one, liked the way HK killed them. Pure HK-esque. But you seemed to forgot a thing. Or two. You forgot to put Query, Statement, etc in the last speech lines. Also, maybe he should have a Astromech Droid counterpart, if ya know what i'm saying. ;)

i know about the query, statement and all the other things, they will be explained in the next chapter ;). he might not have an astromech droid counterpart, but he will meet someone else.

@ igyman: his frame is not totally black, it's black and rust red. i thought i would compromise :D

Woah!

A HK-fic! And a good one too! :D
*adds to must-read list*

thanks, Ztalker. i hoped most of the forumites would like it :).
and FYI to all: i added a fic-image to the first chapter. check it out.

Not bad. Good for the fic though.

*Snip*
i'll get the next chapter up in about an hour or two

I just read the first two chapters and I find it to be particularly interesting. You have managaed to capture HK's murderous nature quite well though I hope to see some of the comedic versions. This looks like the makings of a good adventure. I see that you have spaced the dialogue and that's good. It's easier on the eyes. You did well at making indication of changes of scenery. Keep it up.

Two words: Awe. Some. I can't wait for more. :D

YAAAY! thanks a lot, JM12 and Hall. i aim to please :D
now if only the Chronicler herself would check this out, but i'm not forcing anyone.
sorry about the next chapter guys, but it'll be a bit delayed. i'm watching SmackDown :D

A droid walking out alone on Nar Shaddaa is always bad news; for the droid, that is. HK was no different. Even the sight of the two blaster rifles slung on each shoulder of the restored assassin droid was not enough to scare away the most desperate types for money, hence, HK was in more than a few skirmishes with droid-nappers, as he would like to put it. After sticking the muzzle of his rifles into his umpteenth oppressor and pulling the trigger, he began to get annoyed. Then he stopped walking altogether.

Droids weren’t supposed to feel. They weren’t capable of feeling at all, and yet, here was HK, the galaxy’s most elite assassin droid, annoyance, and right now…confusion, HK recognized. He could not explain it; perhaps something had hit him in his never-ending encounters with salvagers. Feeling was entirely a new thing to him, and if he was programmed to shudder, he would have done so now. He suddenly had a thought and called up his updated plans. As his skimmed through the changes, another hopeful future-HK-owner came up behind him. HK’s droid sensors alerted him to the advance and the assassin droid turned around to face the attacker. It was a Rodian, a common alien species on the Smuggler’s Moon, secondly popular only to humans and Hutts.

“Go away, meatbag,” said HK and aimed the muzzles of his rifles at the Rodian. This was one of the cowardly types on whom intimidation worked wonders. The alien stumbled backwards and ran like heck away from HK. The droid, owing to his programming, felt that pulling the firing studs now and hearing the Rodian scream like his other oppressors would be a good comeback, but something in him stirred and he could not bring it upon himself to kill the alien. By now, his would-be target was already far away and HK dropped his arms to his sides again, totally at a loss, unable to explain why he, a sadistic, brutal and efficient killing machine, had failed to do what he did best. He returned to the skimming edits in his blueprints and programming, and got his answer. Had he been fitted with a jaw, it would have dropped two meters. He read Xan’s update note that was stored alongside the edited blueprints.

I have never come across a droid of this configuration before in the history of my engineering education and career. I have done extensive research on the Holo Net and have sufficient evidence that states that his droid was most probably a military unit present at the Battle of Koseyet on Mustafar. No doubt this is incredible news, as all the droids that played part in the battle were declared ‘damaged beyond repair’. I have finished the droid with a few upgrades from his older technology and placed all the best of each component in it. I have also resolved to use this model as my test subject for the “Droid Emotion Chip” that I have created. I have not recorded its installation location within the droid should this unit be captured or destroyed and somebody come across its memory core as my friends did. But owing to this chip, this droid is now fully capable of experiencing emotion at the same level as that of humans. This may be a pro or a con, depending on how the droid uses those emotions. I hope I’m around when this droid makes the news.
On a minor note, I have removed certain parts in its programming that required it to clarify the type of statement he was going to express.

HK was shocked, another new emotion that he had never experienced. And yet, due to the information stored in the Emotion Chip, he recognized it.

“Oh no!” HK said, distressed. “I’ve been meatbagized!”
************************************************** **********************
Eric Richard was also a frequent flyer to Nar Shaddaa, and in all his years of smuggling, he had never come across a droid standing all alone in the dark, seedy streets of the Smuggler’s Moon. Hence, when he came up to the black and red droid, holding a blaster rifle in each hand, staring out into open space, he was debating whether or not to shout at it to see if it was online. It was a silent night, so it was only natural that Eric nearly jumped out of his skin when the droid suddenly shouted in distress: something about a meatbag. No matter; he took a few steps backward and cautiously spoke.

“Excuse me?”

The droid turned its ice blue photoreceptors at him and they looked fearsome in the dark background.

“What do you want, meatbag?” it asked.

“Are you okay? Is your master around?” Eric asked quietly.

“Okay? Why yes, sentient, I am fine! I mean, I have just been reactivated to discover that I now possess the particulars of a meatbag! Would you like that?” the droid snapped.

“Calm down, droid,” said Eric. “What do you mean by ‘meatbag’?”

“I mean organic water-bodies such as yourself.”

“I see,” said Eric, undeterred. “Do you need help? Is your master around?”

“I am a fully independent droid now, meatbag,” said the droid and raised his blasters. “So don’t try to capture me like all the other idiots.”

“Easy there,” said Eric. “What are you going to do if you have human qualities and are independent?”

*For a meatbag, he caught on pretty quick*, thought HK.

“I was thinking of working as a mercenary, to do what I do best,” said the droid.

“Well,” said Eric. “I’m kind of a mercenary too. Do you want to join me?”

HK felt his emotion chip kicking in. He sort of admired this person. He had the definite coolness to his gait, but was resilient at the same time.

“Very well,” said HK. “I kind of like you anyway. What's your name?”

“I’m Eric Richard,” Eric replied and held out his hand. “Your model number?”

And he had that silly sense of humor too. HK took Eric’s hand and shok sharply twice. It was a curious incident, shaking hands with a droid.

“I am HK-47, professional assassin droid,” said HK. “I hope you’re not uncomfortable with that.”

Eric just chuckled and motioned for HK to follow him and they started walking.

“I’ve dealt with my fare share of assassins. Don’t worry about it.” He said.

Great Chapter. I like how you show HK's thoughts and feelings (Though he shouldn't have any, because he doesn't kill). Looking foward to more as always.

:lol: meatbagized :lol:

Great stuff RC!

thanks, guys. i tried really hard to make HK funny in that bit :D. glad to see i havent let you down :D.

Really cool chapter RC. That's pretty nasty at first, HK being meatbagized and no longer using Statement and Query, etc. I'm sure that will be good in the next chapters.

I liked what happened to HK though I think it would have been much funnier if you left in the programming that indicates the type of statement. That's what makes it comical. HK being meatbagized :lol:
My version: Expletive: Dammit! I have been meatbagized!

or it may have started with "Distress:" :D
thanks guys, next chapter will have a famous person from RotJ.

thanks guys, next chapter will have a famous person from RotJ.

Is it Luke?

ah, well. the guy dies halfway through RotJ ;).
the person to come in my fic, that is. and he's not a human.

ah, well. the guy dies halfway through RotJ ;).
the person to come in my fic, that is. and he's not a human.

It must be a Droid then. R2-D2. And RC, you are joking about Luke's death aren't you?

i was talking about the character's death, not luke's. i said that the person who is going to come in the next chapter will have died halfway through RotJ. i think we'd better lay off the guessing now, or a mod might swoop down on us.

He wasn't talking about Luke. He was talking about the character that will appear in the fic, personally I think it's Yoda.

“Oh no!” HK said, distressed. “I’ve been meatbagized!”

That was too funny.

I had a little bit of a tough time believing that the mercs 'forgot' about Xan when he was right in front of him, but that was the only thing that jumped out at me.

I thought the lines were funny and HK discovering he has feelings is an interesting twist.

Thanks, Jae :)
The mercs didnt actually 'forget' that Xan was in the way, they just panicked and pulled the trigger. i mean, if you had a galaxy-wide famous assassin droid in front of you and you dont know it's intentions, anyone would do the same. poor Xan though.

HK chided himself mentally for becoming so soft, but he couldn’t help it. He had never seen any ship as stunning as this other than the Ebon Hawk, which barely paralleled the beauty of the ship before him.

“My ship,” said Eric, more to show-off than anything else, because it was quite obvious that it was his. “The Scorcher. It’s a YT-2000 Corellian freighter.”

“I have never trained my photoreceptors on a ship for this much time before,” said HK with a tone of awe. “Is the interior as good?”

“Why don’t you find out?” said Eric with a grin, indicating the lowered ramp.

They made their way into the ship and Eric showed HK about the ship. As they entered the ramp, in front of HK was a closed door, and similarly, to his right and left there was a door each. All three were cramped tight. Eric opened the side doors and identified it to HK as the bunks. He shut them and opened the door right in front to reveal a ladder heading up into the ship. Eric went up without trouble. HK looked at the ladder for some time, wondering whether his body frame would allow for climbing structures.

He shrugged in a semi-robotic manner and closed his fingers around a rung. He brought his right foot up, and started climbing. HK had never done anything like that before and was significantly pleased when he reached the main deck. He stepped off the ladder and followed Eric to two huge compartments which were the ship’s cargo bays, both of which contained an airlock. To the right of the ladder, Eric introduced the lounge, the engine monitor and a pair of extra bunks.

Eric then led HK down the hall to the escape pod room, and further down to the cockpit. Everything was state-of-the-art and was no doubt very difficult to manage alone, unless one had incredible engineering skills. Eric apparently had, because HK spotted several non-YT components in the cockpit panels, indicating that Eric had carried out many modifications.

HK was led back to the central ladder and they climbed upward on last time to the upper deck. This was mostly a backup storage and construction and repair area. HK spotted a small R2 astromech droid in the repair room, no doubt to help Eric out in modifying the ship. Eric didn’t consider it much of a friend, though, because it was kept on standby. HK caught sight of a droid recharge station and a workbench in the same room and heaved a silent, droid-sigh of relief.

All this was not done in silence of course. HK constantly remarked on the beauty of the ship and the elegance of several rooms, especially the cockpit. He accessed his system diagnostics and they indicated that Xan, his rebuilder, had put in just enough power into the droid to keep him going for a few hours. His energy supply was running low.

“If you don’t mind, Eric,” began HK, laying down his blasters on the workbench. “Id like to spend some time recharging.”

“Okay,” said Eric. “You can stay for the duration of the trip if you want.”

“One more thing,” said HK. “Where are we going?”

“Tatooine. I have a shipment to deliver to Jabba the Hutt.”
************************************************** **********************
HK had not forgotten how horrid the planet could be. That was the only downside of his well-protected memory core. It remembered too many details. As he stepped out from the cool, climate controlled air of the Scorcher into the arid atmosphere of the desert covered Tatooine, Eric’s ship’s name took on a whole new meaning. The temperature of his chassis sky-rocketed within minutes and sand was already starting to get into his foot servomotors.

“Eric,” he began. “Couldn’t you have docked directly in this Jabba’s hangars?”

“The mud-worm doesn’t have a hangar fit for anything other than ground vehicles,” said Eric simply as they trudged through the small settlement of Mos Eisley.

*I really do like him now,* thought HK as he followed Eric into a speeder rental shop.

“Well,” began HK when Eric asked him what he thought of his selection. “At least you chose a closed-top speeder.”

The smuggler chuckled and they got into their rented speeder. Eric worked the controls like a pro and they shot out into the desert.
************************************************** **********************
<I had asked for 20 kilos, not 15!> whined Jabba the Hutt. HK had a very strong desire to shove his blaster down the fat slug’s throat and empty the power pack into the Hutt’s guts, but he held himself in check. There were many meatbags flanking the fat crime lord and it would become a problem if their boss was eliminated.

But HK could deal with that. He was thinking about his new blaster rifle. The one he’d constructed from scratch aboard the Scorcher. HK would not like to get any of the Hutt’s slime on that piece of delicate machinery. No, the rifle deserved much more. He held himself in check only out of caring for his blaster. And partly also for his new friend.

“You have a problem with that, you can talk to Garda,” said Eric, standing his ground bravely. “He has a far worse temper than you and I’d much rather keep him happy than you.”

<We had a deal and you broke it!> bellowed the Hutt in his native tongue. Jabba never did care about speaking anything else to his bounty hunters.

“No, Garda broke it. You should have contacted him and told him to give me 20 kilos of spice rather than 15,” said Eric calmly. “I thought you had that much common sense.”

<You should have told him that I sent you.>

“What? You think I’ve got your brain? That was the first thing I said to him. He’s not very afraid of you, I can say.”

The Hutt slumped in resignation, although it looked like he was compressing himself vertically and bloated out his sides much more.

<Very well. But I’ll pay you only 90% of the agreed sum.> said Jabba. Eric opened his mouth to protest, but Jabba cut him off.

<But, if you can deliver a few crates of contraband and explosives to Troka the Hutt on Onderon, then I’ll pay you fifteen thousand credits plus the 10% I cut you off.>

Eric appeared to think about it, then nodded.

“Fine, but if your friend cuts on his deal like you did, I’ll bring both of you to your senses the hard way.”

Eric apparently wasn’t afraid of Jabba like the others were. Jabba just laughed and waved.

<I’ll order my men to begin loading up your speeder.>

Eric nodded, then turned and walked off. HK followed him, but stopped short at the doorway to listen to what Jabba was now saying to his aide, Bib Fortuna.

<Load his speeder, all right,> said Jabba, only now he was speaking Ubese instead of Huttese. HK’s databanks allowed him to understand, though.

<But tell the troops in the hangar to blast the little runt. We’ll give the assignment to Boba instead,> indicating the Mandalorian mercenary, Boba Fett, who stood off to one side, talking to another bounty hunter.

<What about the droid?> Fortuna replied in an accented Ubese.

<Wipe its memory. We can use it for our own purposes.>

Fortuna nodded and took out a comlink to convey his boss’ orders. HK walked out of the room inconsequentially, but inside, his logic circuits worked furiously. He didn’t want Eric to be killed. No, he had become too much of HK’s friend to allow that to happen. And anyway, he couldn’t end up being ordered around by a slug like that! It was demeaning. As soon as HK was out of earshot and sight of everyone in Jabba’s throne room, HK broke into a gear-whirring metallic run to catch up with Eric. He caught sight of the man near the turbolift, waiting casually for HK to arrive.

“Where were you?” Eric asked as they got into the lift and he called up the hangar levels.

“No time to explain right now,” replied HK as he took his blaster rifle off safety. “Warm up your blaster and stay ready.”

One didn’t ignore warnings and stand around asking stupid questions if one was an experienced smuggler. Eric nodded and raised his blaster to a ready position, also removing the safety. While he clearly looked bewildered, he was totally alert when the turbolift doors hissed open and the shooting began.

HK climbing ladders eh? That's a new one. Another good Chapter and I liked the descriptions too.

So Jabba was the RoTJ character you were talking about. Nice work.

Nice one. OMG, HK is feeling! You're really making this good. Also, what timeline is this? How much ABY?

Nice one. OMG, HK is feeling! You're really making this good. Also, what timeline is this? How much ABY?

Read the first post. It was 2.5 years ABY. Which means that this is set before TESB. Am I right RC? Halfway in between ANH and TESB, because TESB is five years after ANH.

Nice Chapter. I am still getting used to the fact that HK doesn't do his Statement: ... thingy. That's what made him funny. Still his entanglement with Jabba the Hutt should be very interesting. By the way, Jabba speaks Huttese.

i know, but he does know a couple other languages, including Basic. he spoke in ubese so that if Eric was listnening on, he wouldnt understand what was up.
thanks for the replys guys! :)

Oh I see. Well I look forward to another round of HK and meatbags. BTW I have some new chapters up too.

Stealth on Onderon was basically just hiding your face. Nobody bothered searching up the ship registries as Iziz had such a huge spaceport. HK-47 and Eric had snuck out of their ship after landing around midnight local time. So far, they had met with no problems. The locals were too busy with their own problems to give attention to a smuggler wrapped in a cloak and an unknown-configuration droid trudging along behind him at a safe distance. HK did get the occasionally glances, however, but the eyes watching him quickly went back to what they were doing.

Eric came up to the wall of Troka the Hutt’s building and leaned against it, waiting for HK. Once the latter showed up, Eric started on the topic of how to get in.

“You mean you didn’t have a plan?” said HK incredulously. “What were you doing on the ship?”

“Sleeping,” said Eric in a matter-of-fact tone. “Try using your scanners to locate a secret exit.”

“Secret exit?” mirrored HK. “What makes you think there’s a secret exit?”

“The owner of this building is a Hutt and the local government is not all that bad,” replied Eric.

“Ah,” said HK, understanding fully now and deploying his scanners. “I get it.”

The droid scanned the full face of the wall which he was facing right then, after which, he started moving along the wall, scanner working diligently.

“Yes, there it is,” he said after a few minutes at it and pointed at a blank section of wall that looked exactly the same as those around it.

“You got it?” asked Eric as he moved closer to examine the wall.

“No, I just spotted a womp rat,” said HK, his vocal tone thick with electronic sarcasm.

“Yeah, yeah. Where’s the door? I cant even spot the crease.”

HK came up to Eric and pointed his blaster rifle at the ground.

“The door is down there, not in the wall.”

“Can you get it open?” Eric asked.

“No, I cant. Maybe we should go back to the ship,” HK said, already moving up to the wall

Eric rolled his eyes as HK brought out a compact fusioncutter from a pouch he had slung across his torso and began to slice a subtle square into the wall face. Upon removing the plate, he was greeted by a mess of wires. HK was not deterred by the colourful display and proceeded to snip a few wires and reconnect them in different ways. Suddenly, the ground under them lurched and they dropped like stones.

For the first 100 meters, the platform seemed a fixed distance under them as they dropped into the ever-expanding chasm. Eventually, though, it slowed down a notch at a time and Eric and HK were able to put their feet on the dropping floor. Suddenly, it stopped as if it had hit a phirk wall and Eric felt his body telescope.

“I will blast that meatbag Hutt if any of my circuits are damaged,” mumbled HK as he tried to pick himself up. He did so with the help of his advanced programming and his new and supple joints.

“I’m gonna blast him anyway,” commented Eric cheerily as they stepped through into the dull basement. Or at least that was what Eric thought it was. He spotted a huge turbolift inside the room and went up to it. Thankfully, this one didn’t drop like a stone but rose, just quick enough.

“The Hutt sure likes turbolifts,” he commented as the turbolift slid up the shaft and stopped at the base floor. The pair of them got out into what looked like a lobby, as there was a Gran receptionist at a well worn desk seated beside a big door. Apparently he had been working a lot, for his attitude was edgy.

“What do you want?” he demanded.

“To see Troka the Hutt,” replied Eric. “I have a shipment for him.”

He indicated the parcel he was carrying.

“He’s busy right now. Come back later,” said the Gran in an irritated tone. That was all HK would take, however. He brought up his blaster, took the safety off and set it from ‘stun’ to ‘kill’.

“You have a choice, meatbag,” HK said, pointing his blaster at the Gran. “Either you open the door and remain in one piece, or we blast you and pass through the door anyway.”

All the three eyes of the Gran widened and he touched a button on his desk in alarm. Eric suspected that he was calling the guards, but instead, the big doors to the side of the Gran’s desk began to work its way open. As soon as it was wide enough, Eric walked into Troka the Hutt’s throne room, followed closely by HK.

<Ah, Eric Richard,> said the Hutt in greeting. <Why do you never check in at the front doors?>

“Didn’t feel like it,” said Eric with a shrug. He placed the parcel at the base of the Hutt’s repulsor-couch.

“Top grade plastic explosive, as promised,” said Eric. “Jabba promised me fifteen thousand credits.”

Troka called forward one of his guards and ordered him to check the parcel. For some reason, HK stiffened and his photoreceptors were trained on the parcel. The guard, a Gammorean, was not very bright and it took him four tries to get the corner of the parcel off. He pinched some of the explosive between his fingers and held it out to the Hutt. Troka was seemingly satisfied and told his aide to bring the payment.

<It’s a pity, though,> began the Hutt. <I’ll have to take the fifteen thousand back as soon as I hand it to you.>

“Keep dreaming, fatso,” said Eric lazily. The Hutt made his men bring their guns to bear with a sweeping motion of his thick arm.

<This is your payback for the insult, Richard,> said the Hutt, but Eric wasn’t deterred.

“Just one thing, though,” he said, as Troka’s aide came up to him and handed him a bag containing fifteen thousand credits. Eric pocketed it and continued talking.

“Can I know why you want to kill me?” he asked? “Is it because I insult you so much? Or is it because I steal all your ladies away?”

<Neither,> replied the Hutt. <I only really care about my business, and youre becoming too ‘loud’ with your deliveries.>

“Loud?” repeated Eric. “What's that supposed to mean?”

<It means you aren’t careful enough with your deliveries,> said Troka. <You somehow manage to tip off the cops and they swoop down here and take my money away. Because of you, Jabba and I lost two million credits in spice the last time.>

“Well,” said Eric. “It’s not my fault that you forgot to bribe the port officials.”

<Let’s assume it’s your fault, then,> said Troka. <Any last words?>

This time, HK kicked in.

“Yes, meatbag,” he began before Eric could reply. “Get a breath freshener. My olfactory circuits are going to overheat.”

The Hutt roared in anger and Eric and HK brought their blasters up to a ready position.

<KILL THEM!> the Hutt bellowed, and obediently, his guards started shooting streams of laserfire at Eric and his droid companion.

HK was proving to Eric more why he was the Galaxy’s most feared assassination droid. HK extended his arm and began firing the blaster single handedly. A normal person would miss an average of 4 shots out of 5 because of the natural recoil, but HK’s firm metallic fingers held the blaster in place and fired with incredible accuracy. He dropped four guards with four shots, the ones that were in front of the door. Without them, an escape route for them was cleared.

“Come on!” shouted Eric over the din of battle. He motioned at the door and broke into a run, blasting anybody that got in his path. HK dropped two more guards and ran behind Eric, with the remaining guards in steaming pursuit. Eric and HK ran into the emergency turbolift and slapped the basement button and they began to drop back to the secret exit. The moment they got out of the turbolift however, they were greeted by a pair of Gammorreans with vast waraxes. One took a swing at Eric, but the latter ducked and sent a stream of blaster fire into the Gammorrean’s abdomen. The fat creature dropped dead in a few seconds.

However, HK wasn’t as lucky as Eric. The Gammorrean’s axe caught HK’s left forearm and severed two wires, effectively dropping the arm dead.

“Damn you, meatbag,” said HK, bothered more about his arm than the looming pig-creature before him. HK’s right forearm panel slid open and he let loose a flamethrouwer volley. They could hear the painful shrieks and grunts of the Gammorrean as they made their way to the exit lift. As soon as they were on it, however, they realized it had no button to activate it. They tried speaking to it, looking around for wires and various other things. Finally, Eric jumped on the floor, hard, in frustration; and telescoped again as the exit lift zoomed up.

“It appears that the lift is activated by the Hutt’s body weight,” said HK. “Upon observation, I would assume his minimum weight was at least a hundred and five kilograms, which would require a force of one thousand and twenty-nine newtons on the floor.

Eric whistled.

“I put that much force on the floor?” he asked.

“With the help of the force my body was already exerting, Eric,” said HK.

The turbolift stopped and they wasted no time in making a beeline for the spaceport. Just as they reached the entrance, though, Eric stopped and looked back.

“Aww, man!” he moaned. “I forgot to blast the Hutt!”

“Don’t worry, Eric,” said HK. “I’ve got something better.”

He took a small remote out of his pouch and handed it to Eric. The latter spotted only one button on the device and pushed it without thinking. In the distance, where there was once Troka the Hutt’s palace, was now a raging fireball as the building blew up.

“No kidding,” said Eric, a lopsided grin on his face. “Where’d you put the bomb?”

“In the ‘goo’,” replied HK cheerfully as they made their way back to the Scorcher.

sorry it took so much time, but since i'm doing two fics at once, i'm trying to go slow and steady so i dont die of mismanagement :p. enjoy!

Good Chapter RC, nice comeback. I like the new Avatar and Sig as well. Anyway, HK has really lost it.

"Maybe we should go back to the ship"

I hope he gets his old self back soon. Looking foward to more. Also I know how you feel about doing more than one Fic. That nearly ruined me, I hope it doesn't happen to you.

Nice one, RC and a word of advice (this depends on how much time you have for it, though): I know I'm new to writing fanfics, but I find it's better to write the entire fic before you post chapters. You may want to finish at least one of them before you continue posting, if nothing else, you'll be able to concentrate on each of them more if you aren't writing them simultaneously, otherwise I guess it can get very confusing when you write. And you can always edit your next chapters before you post them, which I think is a lot easier if you've already written them, instead of instantly thinking of an altered story in your mind and putting it on virtual paper. :)

I really like that one. HK dropped the bomb! :xp:

And i agree with Pottsie, cool new av and sig.