Assassin (A Star Wars Fan-Fiction) Book 1

Assassin (A Star Wars Fan-Fiction)

QUICK NOTE: I was 12 years old when I started writing this series, so if you're wondering why the grammar is horrible or why the dialogue isn't realistic or if characters are acting weird, please remember that I was young and didn't have much experience with writing yet. Occasionally, I'll come back and edit a few chapters so please be patient with me as I try to remake this series a little more tolerable.

~Prologue~

I pulled the trigger of my new G3-57 blaster rifle, the end of the barrel pointed at the red target sixty yards across the field. The burst of energy caused the blaster to jolt back and rammed into my shoulder. I could hear my right shoulder bone pop and I bit the inside of my cheek, stopping myself from shouting in pain, knowing that my brother and his friends were watching me. His approval was something I'd sought after since our family had shattered like glass; the impact of something so fragile on the harsh ground of reality left us with nothing but each other, though we'd searched feverishly for another home, some sort of community that would take us in, make us feel like we belonged.

I couldn't show any possible signs of weakness. This was my time to finally prove myself, that I was worthy enough to be one of them.

I'd longed to join my brother and his colleagues ever since he told me about their gang when I was eight years old. They called themselves the Rancor Slayers, and at the time they were the coolest of the cool, the baddest of the bad, the most elite bounty hunters I'd ever had the fortune to witness. There were six members in all. A small number compared to other off-world organizations such as Death Watch, but I also knew that the cluster of teenagers were getting organized and bigger in numberwith every passing day. I needed to do something quick, or I would be left behind.

Being left wasn't an option in my book, nor my brother's. A couple years prior to this situation, my father abandoned my brother and I when our mother died in a blaster accident. The experience was traumatic, but seeing one of your parents get shot down in the middle of the street wouldn't generally leave a positive print on someone's mind. I didn't intend on being the only descendant of the Bleway clan left on Alderaan, scared and alone. That was one of the other reasons I wanted to be one of the Rancor Slayers.

 Danik always said that they were like a family. He would tell me that they were always there for each other and didn't leave behind one another like my father had done to us.

I hated my father for what he did to Danik and I. Pure rage and anger boiled in my veins as I watched the red blast from my G3-57 hit the middle of the target yards away. The target, which made up the shape of an old medical droid, blew up. The droid corpse fell to the ground, exposed electric wires and circuits sending sparks in all directions, causing the grass around it to temporarily light on fire. The secret to my accuracy was imagining that the target had been Arrend Bleway, the man I once thought was my loving parent. I smirked, wishing that the small pieces of debris had belonged to that traitor.

I hated that man.

"Wow. Great job, Sis. I'm impressed," Danik said to me with a proud smile as he patted me on the back. The other six surrounding me began to clap, smiles on their faces, and I took that as a good sign. Impressed applause was much better than unreadable silence. I sighed with relief and slung my rifle over my left shoulder, due to my right one still hurting from the blast. The aching told me I'd have a fresh bruise tomorrow morning, but I knew I would eventually get used to the kick. All the great bounty hunters did.

Zendara (my brother and the rest of the Rancor Slayers who had earned her respect would call her 'Zendy') grinned. She stepped one worn leather boot after the other towards me, her blue head-tails swaying slightly behind her shoulders as she walked. As I expected, my heart began to race in my chest; I could hear its rapid pulse in my ears. Zendara was the leader of the group, seventeen years old, the oldest person in the whole gang, and very intimidating. She was also very kind, generous, and respectable, but strict when discipline was needed. No wonder the others had voted her leader.