How the Fondorian Got His Xylen

[Hannibal Oryen]

How the Fondorian Got His Xylen
A Development Thread

Aargonar was a rather out-of-the-way planet. It was scarcely populated with only a few hundred, thousand natives to its name. Even then, they were mostly tribesmen and other savages left over from failed attempts at colonization. There was also the rumor concerning the ruins of a separatist base or something, but he wasn't there for that. A small group of prospectors had passed through the system thinking they would strike it rich and unearth a gold deposit or something.

Instead what they found was a useless, malleable, silver-ish substance that wasn’t actual silver. They unearthed tons of the stuff, but couldn’t find what they were looking for. They determined that the mineral was useless and subsequently left the system. However, that silvery substance rung a few bells with Hannibal. As a droid engineer, he was all too familiar with it.


The material was called Xylen. Back in the day, it had been a vital part of manufacturing droid brains. Sometime after the historic Battle of Yavin, the galaxy’s reserves of the material had all but dried up. Or so it had appeared. It was entirely plausible that the mineral was still present in some unexplored systems. The galaxy was such a very large place, after all. It was also entirely plausible that a deposit of it had been uncovered on Aargonar by those unscrupulous miners. Hannibal liked the odds that it was exactly what he was looking for, but he needed to be absolutely certain.

A small dropship chartered by the still-young Cestus Cybernetics cruised towards the planet’s surface. Sitting in the back by himself was Hannibal. Seeing as Jared Ovmar had the posting rate of a dead Jackal and that he couldn't risk bringing anyone else along for fear of compromising his cover as an unsophisticated brute, Hannibal would have to solo this mission. When was the last time Hannibal had done something on his own? Probably fairly recently, but that was irrelevant.

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

Although Xylen had since been replaced in droid brains with other minerals, they were never quite as cheap nor as effective. From what Hannibal understood, Xylen seemed to make the whole process of manufacturing droid brains a great deal easier. Just as well, having access to Xylen chips would give Cestus Cybernetics a real edge over the competition. It would have to be kept secret if he didn’t want other companies going out and scavenging for other forgotten Xylen deposits. Then again, mining operations were hardly ever a secretive thing. People would find out sooner or later, but at least Cestus would be there first.

The excavation site didn’t hold any favorable landing zones for whatever reason, and so Hannibal was forced to disembark from the dropship in a remote part of a long, winding canyon. This was the best they could do as far as landing zones went. He didn't take very much with him, just his usual gear, plus sidearm and assault rifle. This was supposed to be a rather cut and dry affair. He’d venture off into the canyon, la-de-da like, find the excavation site, confirm that it was of the Xylen variety, and then abscond. Simple, simple. As Hannibal got his bearings, consulting a small holographic compass, something opted to intrude on him.


The Rancor appeared from around the canyon corneralmost as soon as the dropship had left completely, roaring with tremendous fury at the unsuspecting bounty hunter. Hannibal whirled around to face the beast, nearly knocked off his feet by the sheer force of the Rancor’s roar. He could feel some of the spittle land on him, but that was the least of his worries. Hannibal noticed that the creature was armored. Why someone had put armor on a Rancor was anyone’s guess, as was why one was on Aargonar. The Fondorian had precious little time to ponder these facts as he instead opted to not get eaten, turn around, and run like a beast straight out of hell was on his tail.

Oh, wait, that’s exactly what was on his tail.

Hannibal darted from the clearing and flung himself into one of the many rock-strewn canyon of Aargonar, the Rancor’s thundering footsteps sounding apparent just behind him. Eventually Hannibal came upon a narrow pass that the Rancor couldn't immediately squeeze itself through. Safe for the moment. After several minutes of dead sprinting through the sweltering heat, Hannibal stumbled back into a more open space within the canyon. He paused to catch his breath.

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

Hannibal had to rest for several minutes before he could get going again. Hannibal had further augmented himself with a cardio-muscular package sometime after the Battle of O’reen, so he wasn’t as terribly tired as he should be. Still, he had to be careful about over-exerting himself even with the implant. Otherwise he could seriously injure himself. Not as much as a rampaging Rancor, but still. Hannibal eventually got back to his feet, checking the map again to orient himself. He had gotten closer, but he was still a ways off from the excavation site. That sudden disturbance had also knocked him off course something fierce. At least now no other distractions would come to harass him.

But after a sentence like that, that’s the only thing that could happen.

With another fearsome, earth-shattering roar, another beast of colossal proportions burst from around yet another corner. Just as armored as the Rancor, but even more out of place. It was a Krayt Dragon. For the love of the whole Galaxy and all of its inhabitants, it had to be a Krayt Dragon. Hannibal couldn’t even mentally cope with this one, it was so outlandish and utterly bizarre. Why was it a Krayt Dragon? He didn’t know, so he started running. Again. This sucked.

This was so outrageously annoying that Hannibal couldn’t even begin to describe it. First he was chased off course by a Rancor, now he was chased even further off course by a Krayt Dragon. This out of place monster seemed to have a lot less trouble chasing him down the canyon, as the Rancor. Didn’t matter. Hannibal was in dire need of another narrow passage, but there didn't appear to be any.

As always, the exact opposite happened. Hannibal skidded to a halt, his progress impeded completely by a steep cliff wall. His jetpack was left back on the ship, seeing as he thought he would have no need for it. There was no way to surmount it with just his bare hands. He was cornered. He could have tried to go either to the left or the right, but there was simply no time. The Krayt Dragon would be on him in moments. Desperate to at least dissuade the beast, Hannibal retrieved his assault rifle from off his back. He leveled it at the quickly approaching Krayt Dragon...

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

The Krayt Dragon's mouth hung open in anticipation of devouring the Fondorian in one fell bite. Bullets flew from Hannibal’s rifle, threatening to lodge themselves into the gaping maw of the Krayt Dragon in an act of defiance. This was such a pitiful way to die, it annoyed Hannibal. A Krayt Dragon? On Aargonar? Totally mundane, if not just a little bit odd.

The bullets passed harmlessly through the Krayt Dragon, which continued to charge.

What?

The illusory Krayt Dragon was upon Hannibal now, but its colossal form simply phased through the bounty hunter and then the cliff wall behind him. An illusion. An armored Krayt Dragon illusion. Of course it was an illusion. Hannibal had known that the entire time and totally not come close to wetting himself in what he thought were his final moments in the living world. The illusion subsequently vanished into the cliff wall, never to be perceived by Hannibal again.

Someone was messing with him. There was space magic afoot, and Hannibal despised the stuff to be utilized against him. Especially in such a manner like he had just witnessed. He was infuriated that he had been fooled like this. A Krayt Dragon! He should have known from the start! And here he thought his cybernetic eyes could pierce through such stupendous displays of… Nonsense! Whoever was behind this was going to get a face full of repulse-hand when Hannibal caught up to them.

He ejected the near-spent ammo clip from his assault rifle and deftly slammed in a fresh clip. He wasn’t going to be fooled by the same shtick twice. There was no way. He would have to be ready in case something tangible tried to get him, though. He checked the map again, oriented himself in the direction of the deserted excavation site, and set off once again.

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

Then the Rancor appeared again, blocking Hannibal’s path after somehow having found its way over to where he was. Hannibal gave a loud scoff, declaring that he wasn’t about to fall for that same gag again. He ignored the Rancor, moving along on his merry way. He continued along, up until the foul-smelling monster swiped on of its large hands at Hannibal and scooped up the cyborg. No doubt for a delicious midday snack.

Alright, so Hannibal had miscalculated the realness of this Rancor and had subsequently lost his main weapon when it grabbed him. Not good. Not good in the least bit. Hannibal struggled in its grip as it brought him closer to its open maw, threatening to bite into him. Hannibal had other plans. He managed to free one arm, getting ahold of his machine pistol, which he proceeded to unload into the Rancor’s face.

Hannibal soon found that VENOM slugs and Rancor face did not amicably mix. The beast howled in pain as slugs smacked into its deplorable face and unleashed small amounts of highly acidic liquid. In colossal pain from both the slugs and the acid, the Rancor released Hannibal in favor of clutching at its now-mangled face. Hannibal guessed that the beast could survive, although it would probably go blind. Then its wounds would get infected and it would die a highly uncomfortable death.

With a thud, Hannibal hit the ground and immediately scrambled away and to his feet. He considered going for his gun then and there, but that wouldn’t be overly helpful. Instead he yanked a thermal detonator off of his belt and chucked it at the feet of the Rancor. He kept moving, snatching his gun off the ground as he fled the blast radius. There was a small explosion and suddenly the Rancor stopped its roars of pain. Hannibal didn’t look back to see what damage he’d done to it, but he wasn’t interested at this point.

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

So the Rancor was real, but the Krayt Dragon wasn’t. That was so, so typical. Hannibal’s frustration with his lack of perceptive ability to pierce stupid space illusions was going to gnaw at his patience for the rest of his life. Whatever. The sooner he found the excavation site, the better. Reloading his sidearm and advancing through the canyon cautiously, it seemed he had dealt with the last of the great beasts. Finally, he arrived at what appeared to be the dig site.

From the looks of things, this had been a hub of activity. A cave entrance was nearby, seemingly blasted open. The ground was upturned and ruined, presumably by heavy machinery and whatnot. There were also piles of rock debris, dirt, and other nonsense the miners had dug up. Why the hell couldn’t the pilot land here? It looked perfectly fine. Hannibal ventured forward, heading for the cave.

He didn’t knee to go too far in. A vein of the mysterious silvery substance was right there waiting for him. Hannibal wanted to be out of here as quickly as possible. He scanned it as fast as he could, but forced himself to triple check anyway. Once, twice, three times scanned. It was Xylen. There was no question of that. Those dunderheaded prospectors had passed up a material that was highly valuable in other aspects rather than just its own. Now Hannibal could get out of here, report back to Zothustro, and they could start setting up a mining facility right here.

“GET OUT OF MY HOME!”

Fortunately a deranged Space Witch was there to inform Hannibal that, no, even after the Rancor, it would never be that easy.

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

The energy shields on Hannibal’s gauntlets sprang to life, allowing the Fondorian to deftly block the crimson lightsaber that came at him. The Witch grunted in exertion before being shoved back by Hannibal. Who the hell was this broad? She wasn’t a pretty sight, but living in a barren canyon for an untold amount of years could probably do that to a person. Long, matted black hair. Greasy too. She was covered in the weird Witch-y face painting and the foul smell she gave off wasn’t doing her any favors either.

She was probably the reason for Hannibal’s illusion problem.

“The hell is your problem, lady?”
“SHAFLAAKAAAAAAH!” She replied, a battle cry forged in the depths of stupidity itself.

She launched a flurry of attacks, all of which Hannibal could only respond to by deflecting. She was fast- mind bogglingly so. Thankfully Hannibal could keep up just enough to prevent himself from being dismembered. The lightsaber clashed with the circular energy shields time and time again, prompting the Witch to become increasingly more and more frustrated. She was a space wizard, after all. Mere mortals were supposed to crumble and fall in her wake.

She brought her blade down in an overhead strike, but Hannibal was faster. With one hand he swatted her blade off course, smacking it with the energy shield. Her grip was broken, sending her weapon of choice clattering away. Hannibal didn’t wait for a moment after that, sending a fired-up repulse-hand into her gut. He could hear the wind practically shoot out of her mouth. She fell flat on her ass, coughing up blood.

This was probably the part where he would tell her the error of her ways and put her on the path to the Light Side of the space magic or something. Where he would be the good guy and show mercy to his grounded opponent.

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

Hannibal inserted a fresh clip into his machine pistol before jamming it back into his holster, stepping over the freshly created cadaver. Good guy monologues were overrated as hell. Taking time out of his day to convince people not to be a raving dick was also overrated as hell. That wasn’t even to mention how time-consuming it was. What wasn’t overrated was money, and time was money. Hannibal had spent the day being chased by monsters, nearly eaten by a Rancor, and then fighting a Witch. And then he was expected to deliver a speech? Ain’t a soul in the Galaxy got time for that.

Except maybe Jedi. But they weren’t into that anymore, from what Hannibal had heard.

The Xylen deposit confirmed, the crazed Witch inhabiting the site dealt with, and Hannibal fed up with being an outdoorsman for the day, the bounty hunter radioed in for his ride. Time to wrap this up and head home.

 

[Arage Bao]

It was then that a ship cleared itself for landing in the vicinity of the Fondorian Bald Mercenary. Strange thing, the ship was, for one it was not the same ship the Mercenary had arrived on. Secondly.. he had arrived before the man had had time to radio him in. Those two facts would give Hannibal something to think about, at least if he was paying any attention to the storyline. Finally the ship landed and a man clambered out of it with a big smile on his face.

"Was in the 'hood and thought you might need some help, bro. Sup."

The reason for his language impairment might have something to do with the couple of bottles of... water, he had in his cabinet. But he was as sharp as ever, no doubt about it. He just started to speak in Understreet Slang, after a couple of drinks.


@[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

@[member="Jared Ovmar"]

"What the hell? Ovmar?" Hannibal balked, shutting off his radio before he could get a signal. "What are you doing here?"

The Fringe Lord smelled like intoxicants and bad choices. This wasn't too surprising. Other people might have condemned Ovmar for his public drunkenness and total misconduct, but Hannibal could also appreciate a good party. Not that he ever got invited to any. The ones he did get invited to were also frequently attended by lunatics who would probably kill everyone in a three mile radius if they got rubbed the wrong way, so he usually opted out. Those were not good parties. Those were, dare he think it, bad parties.

Whatever Ovmar was up to in his little party bus, it was Hannibal's ticket out of here. He could think about improbabilities later. "Never mind, just get me the hell out of here."

 

[Arage Bao]

"Hey man. I do not really know, Hannibal. This one moment.. I was at Zeltros.. and the next?" he gestured with his hand to illustrate his point. "poof and.. I was here."

It had been an awesome party to say the least and as far as he knew it was still on going. Hannibal did seem a little bit stressed out, maybe the mining operation had been a bit more than he had bargained for. "Remember when you told me you did not need my help? How was the operation, lad."


"That reminds me, want to check out Zeltros? I -think- they are still having that party."

@[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

@[member="Jared Ovmar"]

"Oh, it went fantastic." Hannibal replied sarcastically. "Absolutely fantastic."

Hannibal glanced back at the mine and the bullet-ridden corpse of what had once been a psychopathic witch. Then he thought about being chased by that Rancor, then the Krayt Dragon he thought was real. He thought about how frustratingly hot this godforsaken planet was and how it was a bloody miracle he hadn't been Force Witch or Rancor chow. Then he thought about how much money he would be making from the Xylen they started yanking out of the planet here. Millions. A droid brain that simply couldn't be competed with. A brain that unlocked possibilities beyond the galaxy's wildest dreams.

A Zeltron party was more in order than anything else in the universe.

"Zeltros? Party? You had better believe it."