SW Fan-Canon

Rau 13Aug16
“RAU”

Nine Years before the Battle of Yavin

It just happened. The blaster, a custom DL-44 heavy, was still smoking in thirteen-year-old Mercy’s hand after her mother dropped limp on top of her; smelling of burnt flesh she push the thirty-year-old off and lied there on the durasteel floor of the Corinthian for a moment, thinking to herself what she had just done.

Oh my God, I shot her?

Mercy placed a hand on her chest, feeling the rapid beat of her heart and the adrenaline course through her veins. She glanced at the husk of the woman that was her mother and couldn’t help but let her lips curl into a smile.

“She’s dead!” Mercy shrieked in joy and quickly burst into hysterical laughter as she let the blaster drop from her hand.

A minute or two passed before the excitement faded and she realized the gravity of her situation; Rehné was going to miss the negotiations with the Pyke representative on Cato Neimoidia, and with a dead woman being the boss of the Collective and they’d be looking for her. For both of them.

Mercy’s joy turned to panic then a quick pang of relief washed over her.

She stood up and walked toward the cockpit, passing her mother’s body; she sat in the pilot’s seat and punched in coordinates for the Mid Rim.

“Guess I’ll just have to disappear then.” She said with a gentle chuckle.

Mercy typed in the coordinates for a small colony in Mid Rim, a place where she’d been before, the place where she spent many years: Tokhina.

When she finished she pulled the lever to activate the hyperdrive, then immediately triggered it. Mercy was gone in matter of seconds.



Four Years before the Battle of Yavin

“WHOA!” He exclaimed as he dodged the burly Twi’lek’s fist, “Ha, you missed, tail-head.” He looked around the crowded room in Zasz’s cantina; unconscious forms of various species, blunt weapons, damaged distillery and destroyed or tattered furniture littered the place from the free-for-all that occurred. Mekel Rau and the Orn Free Taa look-alike contest runner-up were all that were left standing. Both drunk, bloodied and happy to do it all over again. Mano y mano. Human versus Twi’lek.

“Come at me, jowls.”

Without warning, he received a hand on his shoulder that yanked him back and a rust-colored droid stepped in front of him as the Twi’lek started to charge. With a blink, the burly drunk was on the floor and the droid was staring at Mekel.

“Sir, you continue these brutish altercations and one day I just may not be able to assist you.”

He stood up and eyed the droid. “I am Mekel of Clan Rau, House Vizsla, we are marauders. We fight, it’s what we do. And we are very, very good at it. How is that not in your programming yet, you served the family for how long?

“Since your ancestor, Mandalore the Uniter built me. Many generations.”

Mekel grabbed his black jacket off a chair and while putting it on he shook his head, “Well, he failed at droid design. Aga must’ve been better at leading in battle than tinkering in the workshop.”

“Quite the leader.” T8 responded sarcastically, “Shall we go?”

“Yeah, yeah, just one more thing.” He leaned over the bar and grabbed a bottle of Dovahkiin brandy and flashed the bottle at the droid, “This. This is for later.”

Mekel chuckled as they left the bar and made their way back to the motel they were staying at, the night of Tokhina was almost as interesting as on Coruscant or Nar Shaddaa.

Good liquor, violence and now all that was missing to make just as good was the companionship of a beautiful woman and a good game of chance. And to Mekel’s luck, in the peripheral of his vision, there sat a human woman sitting at a table gambling and taking shots of a teal-colored drink like there was no tomorrow. He saw her slam down a ‘Pure Sabacc’ and cheer along with a few non-humans at her side as he walked passed the entrance to the gambling den. She looked no older than eighteen.

Without even realizing, he started moving toward the door and leered, in a matter of seconds he noticed what he was doing but at the same moment he saw the green-eyed gambler staring back at him.

He stepped forward and walked through the door towards her table, noticing several empty pitchers of alcohol and a pile of credit chips.