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by Cobra
Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Fanfiction · #1123799
Xiom and Jomaen go out for another hunt...but don't come across a Mumuu or Karabac
Chapter 2: New Friends, Old Grudge

“So this…planet that you saw in your dream…What was it like?”

Xiom and Jomaen had been strolling a tall patch of grasslands for half an hour or so the next day, both sporting their knew carved warrior masks and Mumuu skinned capes. The two seemed almost identical now except for the distinguishing darker browned skin tone and olive green eyes that Jomaen had inherited, as well as his warrior kilt rather then Xiom’s Karabbac skinned black pants.

“It was,” Xiom began, the dream began so real in his mind once more, “Dazzling. Every speck of land was covered by immense, towering buildings. And in the night it sparkled magnificently. It was nothing like our homeland…no. I’d never seen anything like it.”

Jomaen shook his head in part disbelief and awe, “You dream too much about these…cities, Xiom. They seem…fascinating, but why…how do you dream them up?”

Xiom shrugged, “Perhaps we were destined for more then just Kalee…like grandpa.”

“Destiny,” Jomaen chortled at the word, “You’re starting to sound like a Jedi.”

Xiom snorted at the word he grew to loathe.

Jedi.

Their so called heir for purity and goodness was all but ego and falsehood to Xiom. He recalled his father telling of stories, how the Huk’s had won the trust of the Republic to aid them in the war. The ultimate weapon the Republic had to offer were the Jedi…and with them on the side of the Huk’s they were able to smite down all opposition, all defenses that the Kaleesh had to offer.

Protecting the innocent? Xiom spat at their motto, their so-called sworn duty.

The Kaleesh were the innocent…it was the Huk’s whom used deception to show the true, corrupt colors of the Jedi…

There was a rustling ahead.

Through pure, experienced instinct both Kaleesh hunters dropped to the soils of the grassland. Jomaen glanced over at Xiom for a signal.

Xiom made a motion with his clawed finger to where his lips were behind his mask for silence.

The rustling grew nearer.

Xiom made a slow motion with his hand towards the sound: ‘Approach cautiously’.

Both moved forward through the tall grasses; their stealth and movements much like a snake, approaching its prey.

The sounds only continued to grow nearer. Xiom estimated their distance: 5 meters…4 meters…3…2…1…

Xiom made the first move…

He hefted all his lying wait from the ground and converted his body stance into a leap as he went to strike down the first target. In mid-air he recognized the species. His weight kept his target down and with his spear’s pole region against its neck it remained still and unable to resist.

To Xiom’s knowledge it was a human; one possessing neatly combed brown hair, and sharp, keen blue eyes that spelled out trickery and mischief. He wore a dirty, brown leather jacket, a white shirt underneath, and slick black pants.

Xiom cocked his head at his prey while listening to gunfire that showered overhead between Jomaen’s powerful single-fired shots and a blaster rifle’s bursting flow.

“Easy big guy,” pleaded the pinned human, “We mean you no harm.”

This had been Xiom’s second time seeing a humanoid. He remembered the first was when his father had traded with one once before. They seemed like a peaceful species…

“Hold your fire, Jomaen!” Xiom ordered.

“At ease Mart Ma,” the humanoid added.

The gunfire had ceased and there was an awkward silence. Xiom continued to stare at the human for a moment longer before slowly letting off him completely. He stood with his spear close to his side, ready to strike once more, need be. With his head now above level of the tall grasses, Xiom made out the second one that returned fire with Jomaen.

The second one had long fin-like ears that hung back, ending down at their waste region with eye sockets that perked up from the top of their head. In addition it had a distinct bill and amphibious, slippery sage and white skin. It was clothed in red battle armor and held a blaster rifle tightly in hand.

The human examined both Xiom and Jomaen closely, “Kaleesh, right?”

“Correct,” Jomaen stated.

“And you are human,” Xiom stated, more so for clarifying species.

“Corellian actually,” the humanoid corrected, “A form of human I guess you could say. Name’s Ben Collar”

“And your friend?” Jomaen asked motioning towards the other with his rifle.

“Marta ma Frungo,” said the amphibious one, stepping forward to introduce himself, “Meesa be Gungan.”

“Xiom ale Sheelal.”

“…and Jomaen tae Sreshiim.”

“And you’re both Kaleesh?” Ben asked.

“I thought we had already established that,” Jomaen replied smugly.

“Why is it of importance?” Xiom questioned.

Ben smiled simply, “As far as my knowledge about this system goes, you Kaleesh don’t get along with the Huk’s very well.”

“An exaggerated understatement,” Xiom replied.

“Then maybe you’d be interested in helping me and my friend out,” Ben began, “We were attacked in mid flight to Coruscant by Corporate Czerka Attack Shuttles. We tried to loose their trail by circling around your planet…but turns out the Huks have an alliance with Czerka.”

“Weesa shot down by Huks and Czerka. Our ship isa crashed!” Mart Ma added.

“Why did they attack you?” Xiom questioned.

There was a moment of hesitation for both Ben and Mart Ma to reveal as to why they were. “Let’s just say we were doing some…business that they didn’t approve of so much.”

“Are you saying you two are criminals, then?” Jomaen asked.

“Depending on the point of view,” Ben said defensively, having chosen his words carefully once more, “Our business is beneficial to all whom oppose Czerka…and Czerka itself is bad news.”

“All of which is unimportant,” Xiom snapped, ending the petty conversation in annoyance, “I believe the issue at hand was your ship crashed and you were having some troubles with the Huks.”

“Yes, and we think they’re still crawling all over it,” Ben replied, “That’s why we thought you guys could help. You know the buggers, you hate their guts, and we need to retrieve some valuables on board that ship…not to mention get back on track to Coruscant.”

“Anything in it for us?” Jomaen questioned.

“An opportunity to ravage some Huk’s, and a free ride to Coruscant,” Ben offered.

Xiom mulled it over for a moment. His dream...the galaxy…was this his opportunity? An omen for him to start a new chapter in his life to be a part of the bigger picture, a galaxy of destiny? Perhaps it was…and perhaps it was his time to mimic his Grandfather’s path of marking the history of the galaxy with his own name.

“Where’s your ship?”

* * *



The four ventured out for ten minutes or so until Ben came to a halt and motioned ahead to a crashed Corellion Transport. Surrounding the ship were dozens of blue insectoid, bipedal creatures that Xiom had grown to hate so much.

“Huk’s…” Xiom growled.

The Huk’s were a crafty looking insect species and one of the only having such a odd hue of blue skin to them. Branching off of their small bean shaped carapace were two nimble arms, two elongated legs, and a thin neck which supported their mantis resembling head. Branching off their shoulder regions were two large, fearsome scorpion like claws used for clamps and other offenses in combat.

They all scurried around the ship, investigating and scavenging it madly. Some began confiscating some of its cargo as others huddled around dents, tears, and other damages in the ship’s hull and interior.

“Well, at least they were kind enough to fix it up for us,” Ben said, half sarcastically.

“Wassa be the plan then?” The Gungan questioned the Kaleesh.

“We’d have the element of surprise,” Xiom noted to Jomaen.

“Your favorite technique,” Jomaen replied with a smirk beneath his skull and turned back to the other two, “What are you both packing?”

“Blaster Rifle and a pistol,” Ben said grapping his pistol out of his holster.

Xiom glanced at the puny weapon and chortled at it, “That is your means of defense?”

“It suits its purpose when you’re a hell of a shot with it,” the Corellian replied smugly.

“Heesa be a wicked gunslinger,” Mart Ma vouched.

“Can we rely on you and your puny little pistol then to take out some Huks?” Jomaen questioned.

“I could sooner blow your head off with this ‘puny’ little thing before you could even raise your rifle,” Ben growled back.

“Then how was Xiom able to jump you without you managing to get one single shot at him?” Jomaen countered.

Ben began stuttering for a response defensively, “He…well…we didn’t even know you guys were there! Hell this is your home turf…you guys had…”

“...the element of surprise,” Xiom said, finishing Ben’s sentence and breaking the argument, “It’s settled then. We’ll make a solid ambush on my count. That’ll give us a quick starting advantage…the rest will rely on skill and instinct.”

“Fine,” Ben and Jomaen said in unison, Mart Ma following up in a, “Meesa Ready.”
© Copyright 2006 Cobra (cobra at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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