Star Wars: Rubellite Sparrow (Bounty Hunter!Weiss Schnee x Former Jedi!Reader)

Enter the Sparrow

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...

STAR WARS

THE RUBELLITE SPARROW

The galaxy is consumed by never-ending war! THE GALACTIC REPUBLIC and the NEW SITH EMPIRE claw at each other in desperate attacks and skirmishes, while innocents and civilians burn amongst the ashes of once serene planets. The Empire is controlled by cabals of Force sensitives who name themselves the SITH LORDS. The Republic differs very little, however, as its military is controlled by the JEDI ORDER, and even the Supreme Chancellor is a member of the ancient cult, along with many of the Senate's most powerful members. Meanwhile, a JEDI PADAWAN has left the order due to disillusionment, and now seeks to understand the true nature of the FORCE...

Shessarid is a planet of extremes, from an equatorial belt of jungle to polar deserts dotted with islets of swampy marshes that break up the sandy dunes. Even its inhabitants have subsumed the planet's essence and become the fringe peoples of society: the smugglers, bounty hunters, murderers and petty warlords. Indeed, only the most insidious can make their place here. Today a new visitor arrives, as high up in the planet's pink sky, a shellfish shaped hunk of metal burns and spins through the atmosphere. Inside, lights flash a crimson red and alarms shriek like banshees. A bag is clutched in your hands, which contains sinister, dark things. Another is strapped to your back, which contains your essentials. Despite the sensory overload and the heat, you stumble through the corridors, avoiding blooming bouquets of fire and showers of sparks as you manoeuvre to the cockpit. Inside the cramped space, your pilot desperately tries to change the ship's course. Ahead, the yellowish colours of the desert grow closer, and soon the ship will be burying into it, like a makeshift tomb.

"Do you have a plan?" You ask, grabbing the back of the piloting chair for support.

"Not die," he says back, in between grunts. Suddenly another heavy blaster bolt hits the ship, causing another wave of sparks to spray into the cockpit like water. They dance along your skin and cause a smarting pain. Both you and the pilot know that there's no chance of escape, and at this point the question is of whether either of you will survive the impact.

"Good plan," you mumble, as the dunes of the desert become all you can see.

The ship's window immediately bursts into a million splinters upon impact, as a tidal wave of sand floods in, sweeping you into its loose grip. You barely see the blood erupting from the pilot's head as a shard of glass embeds in his forehead and his limp body is entombed by the sand. However, you do feel a scream through the force, a howl of death that makes your heart heavier. Once the rumbling stops, you take a minute to savour the fleeting calmness, even though the sand constrains your chest and limits your breathing. With a grunt you pull yourself free. Though there is no way out, as the ship is half buried with in the desert. For your average person this would probably be a slow, agonising death by suffocating or dehydration. However, you have a unique and esoteric tool to use. With a deep inhale, you tap into a peculiar field of power that stretches through your muscles and the air unimpeded. All you need to do is meld that power with your sinew and your mind, and all the potential of the Force lies before you.

"I will not die here," you whisper to yourself, before pulling your hand up, yanking the ship out of the dunes and lobbing it through the air. It skids to a halt and your way out is before you, through the shattered cockpit window. Once you leave, you glance around, scanning for your assailant; they do not take long to find. A darkly coloured, sleek ship hovers overhead, like a predator watching prey. You briefly contemplate trying to yank it down into the sand with the Force, but reason and experience tells you that's a poor choice. It'll leave you vulnerable and tired. Running is also an option, but what's the chance you can outrun a starship? Zero percent? And a single heavy blaster shot could turn you to blood, bones and skin scraps.