[O12 - Reytha - NR3F] A MESSAGE FROM THE DARK

A MESSAGE FROM THE DARK 

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Imperial forces were stretched thin over Reytha, burning fields and exterminating those fleeing the coming wildfires. C3-77 found himself wandering the very same wasteland. His body dusted with red sand, battery levels depleting steadily. The tracking puck held in his left hand blurted every so often, screeching just like his own joints. 

He had no memory of who gave him the puck, nor where he was going, only that he was supposed to meet a masked figure who could give him passage off world. Who could this be? Where could they be? Why were they seemingly in the middle of no-where?

C3-77 must have been in such deep thought he did not see the deep ravine in front of him.

"AGHHH" The protocol droid cried, clutching onto the moister-vaporator beside him. 

Wires pulsing, he steadied himself and perched himself on the vaporator.

"Identify yourself, Droid."

He shot up from his seat and stared, shocked.

"My name is C3-77, I bare a message for the recipient of this tracking fob." He replied proudly, rooting around his satchel for his tracking puck.

Just next to the ravine unravelled a stone staircase, reaching far below the cliff face. From just behind the cliff edge emerged a stormtrooper, bending down to retrieve something off the ground.

"Looks like you found him." The trooper scoffed, holding the fob out to the droid, it now beeping so rapidly it was clear this trooper must be the intended recipient. "Stupid droid. Identify your master."

"C3-77 serves no master, sir." 

His head tilted. 

"Right listen here you Bolt-bag, your trespassing on Imperial territory." He declared, throwing the fob at the protocol droid's feet. "Either clear off or il clear you off myself."

C3-77 was silent, studying the man.

"Actually... the last census claims this land once belonged to a Presh Valter. According to Hutt data, he has several outstanding loans..."

"How'd a droid like you access Hutt..." 

BANG

A great orange blaster bolt rung through the air and collided spectacularly with the troopers helmet, sending him flying down the sandstone steps and into the ravine below. 

"About time." A masked woman said, picking the fob from the floor. "This place is crawling with rats. Good you delivered the package."

"Package?" C3-77 replied. 

she ignored his skiddishness.

"lets get you out of here."

.....