M O N O L I T H
Tatooine
Mos Eisley
Torn Dusk, Ship crew quarters
07:00 hours local time
The shower was bitter sweet. Stinging hot water poured over my body. Feeling good to have any sensation at all, yet hurting my skin and turning it a slight pink hue. Veins in my arms and legs popped out with the heat. My right hand flexed as I thought back to less than Twenty-four hours ago. I had defended myself against a drunkard. However, he is now two meters deep. A hole now replaced one of his eye sockets. The left one to be precise. I remember it vividly. The man's eye smoking as a black hole took the spot of where his blue eye once was. His face filled with surprise, and his body in the defensive position as he fell onto his back.
His body was slack. Jaw open and his remaining eye had rolled to the back of his head. My patron was looking between myself, and the deceased man. Still warm with the blood in his veins slowly coming to a stop. He moved fast to take the DL-44 blaster from my hand. Throwing it to the other side of the room as he grabbed my collar and pulled me to the back of the room before anyone else could do anything. However, it was one man who stood up. Wearing armored robes, and from the situational awareness I had, I determined he was carrying a sniper rifle on his back, a hold out blaster in his boot, and another handgun somewhere on his hip hidden under the robes. HIs helmet had a weird shape to it. A visor that was square, yet seemed to be wide enough to not limit his vision.
His voice I can still remember ringing out. Deep and authoritative. "Take him away, and I will do the same to you Keeper." Another armored man stood up. Clad in very mercenary like assortment of gear. And was ready for the general fight. But not a full on war front. He spoke up. However, silent and hidden almost. "Are you sure?" He was met with a nod from the robed man. He walked forward after nodding, and placed a hand on my shoulder. And then grabbed the wrist of my patron, and pulled us apart. His release of me and an open palm was met with a whoosh. The blaster flew into his hand, and was then handed to me. I looked up and he once again nodded only once. I took the pistol, and then let it hang by my side. Indicating the door with his right hand, I exited the building.
Now as I stood in the shower, the door was slammed open with a dark skinned man, bald, and various scars across his face and head, yelled at me to get out. I did so stark naked. Unafraid of him looking at me. His voice now harsh and tough as bantha hide that had been turned into jerky. "You were taken in by my colleague. He finds something in you. Now it's my job to see if you are any good. Get dressed then meet me in the cargo hold." He sneered at me and then performed an about-face to leave. Door slammed once more, I then reached for my clothes. A torn pair of hide pants, Moccasins, and a hide shirt with twine belt. No under garments. No socks. Nothing extra.
Walking out hurt. My feet were sore already from working. And taking a rather educated guess that I would begin training right now, I would become even more tired. However, it's not the worst that I have faced before. I almost died then, but now it's different. I had to survive this groups "hazing" so I could join them. It wasn't like I didn't want to be with them. It was better than working for skanks, and drunkards all the time. These men looked respectable. Dangerous, but respectable. Accepting my fate, I moved into the cargo hold.
Both men were waiting for me there. A firing range was set up. Three targets. One about halfway down the hold. Another about three fourths of the way down, and another against the wall on the other side. From myself to the target at the very end, it was a good 50 meters. Good range for a blaster pistol. Mid to lower range for rifles. On a table sat a variety of guns. Pistols, a sniper. Some rifles. Even a scattershot slugthrower. I walked over to the table. Already understanding they wanted to see if I was good with guns. I looked at a simple hold out slugthrower. Nice for self defence, but nothing for a huge battle. Reaching for it, I found my hand stopped. No matter how much I forced it to reach for the handgun, it wouldn't reach. I looked up to see the second man, still in his robes, but without the helmet. His hand was out, and I could now feel the smallest of barriers on my hand. Preventing me from moving it. He used the force.
"If you are training me, then don't hold me back."
"You must pass requirements first. You wi-"
"Fight one of you, or perform menial tasks that will 'strengthen' my body."
"Fast one he is."
"Indeed."
Robed one's hand came down, and I turned to face him. Holding one hand up, I started to float off the ground. His skills in the force were well along for him to lift me with little to no effort shown. Clear by his facial movements, and the lack of shaking in his limbs. I may be young, but I was aware. Now was the test.
"Escape the grip, or be thrown. Your choice."