I-l F-8

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1,872 years ago.... The old gungan is pacing back and forth as he spits out our instructions. I scan the room we're in, 27 lifeforms, 8 droids and 1 who's kinda... both. Strange. I glance over at Master, his beard is longer and bushier than normal. Not surprising considering that we've been on assignment after assignment for 3 weeks now.


He hasn't slept properly ever since that night on Conquered Dawn, the night he got indebted to the hutts. ughh. Just the thought of those overgrown worms makes my circuits crawl. I'ts their fault Master is out of sorts, and even though I don't mind keeping busy like this, Master won't hold out much longer....


"Nowsa, doesen yousa all undastaning?" The gungan inquires.

"We got it all right" Grunts a grizzled looking twi'lek mercenary."But you ain't payin nearly enough for a job this dangerous!"

"It would be one thing if it were jedi, but no way in raxus prime am I messing with the sith!" Yells a bith standing next to me through some kind of translator.


"If yousa too scared, yousa free to be leavin." Responds our employer.

The others are right, this job is suicidal. But there's no way Master will do the wise thing and walk away. He's far too desperate for that. I exchange a glance with I-l F-8 and I can detect the bloodlust in his internal processing core.


"Now, If'n yousa taken da job, come'n with meesa."


End part one.

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