Ok, so I'm writing a Star Wars fanfic. Here's my progress so far. Its about a Twi'lek (Lanx) and his rise to piratical power.
"Checkmate," Lanx said with a grin as he slid his rook into a deadly back-rank king kill. "Sorry, Captain, but I had you ever since you gave me Queen's gambit."
Lanx's tall dark-haired opponent stroked his gotee as he surveyed the board an his mistakes. He lets out a growl and slams a heavy fist down onto the Dejarik board, causing the holographic peices to temporarily break into static. He lets out a slow, amused laugh and looks up into the Twi'lek's red eyes.
"You're good, Lanx." The large human compliments. "Who taught you to play like this?"
Lanx smiles in the memory of his father, but the smile quickly fades as the thought of their last meeting comes to mind. He tries to speak, but his throat choaks slightly, and no sound comes out at all.
"I'm sorry, it was you father, wasn't it?" The Captain says to Lanx. He speaks again after Lanx nods "I won't bring him up again."
"No, thats fine," Lanx says, flipping a Lekku back over his shoulder. "Yes, my father taught me. He was a merchant, and we used to waste away the hours in hyperspace by playing Dejarik. Ever since I was little, it just made sense."
"He sounds like he was a good man, Lanx. Er . . . Twi'lek."
Lanx lets out a slight laugh, and nods. "Well, Captain Vassley, he was a smuggler. Thats why he was attacked."
"He must have been a really good man then," Captain Vassley says with a giggle. Being a smuggler himself, he knew that many criminals were often more honorable than the police and soldiers that persued them.
"That he was, sir . . ." Having said that, Lanx trails off into thought about the last time he saw his father. They had been unloading crates at the same spaceport he was sitting in now, but some theives got word of what they were hauling. They must have thought it worth the risk, because they ambushed his father while Lanx was in the refresher. He had returned to the ship to find his father's corpse and empty crates. Snapping back into the present, Lanx smirks at the Captain. "Another game, sir?"
Standing up, Vassley checks his wrist chronometer, but shakes his head decliningly. "We should get back to the ship, Lanx," he says. "Those bountey hunters can get impatient when out of ammo, you know."
"Yeah, I can immagine." Lanx stands up also. At six foot four, he was two inches taller than the Captain, and a giant among other Twi'lek. He takes out his datapad and begins reviewing the weapons cargo they'd be delivering to bounty hunters an Nar Shadaa. Being the ships merchancy expert and 'dimplomat', it was his duty to keep track of sails and income.
They push their way through the thick smoke of the Corellian cantina up to the bar, where they pay for their drinks and get their blasters back. Holstering his under his long overcoat, Lanx follows the captain out into the salty sea air of the Corellian space and sea port. They walk across a high duracreet walkway to a landing pad reserved exclusively for their ship, the brand new Corellian Corvette Lazaruk.
Luck began to frown on them, though, because a republic officer and three soldiers stopped them before they reached that pad. Lanx acts like he's scratching his sides, but really unbuckles his duel blasters. The Republic officer steps forward and hands them a peice of paper.
"This," he says, "is a search warrant for your ship. Under the anti-smuggling act, we need no probable cause, and you must submit to this random inspection."
"This is outrageous! I have a sceduel!" Captain Vassley roars at the officer.
Ignoring the protest, the officer continues. "You have ten minutes to breif your crew and prepare to be boarded."
Lanx and the Captain run past, to their ship, Lanx typing in his datapad and Captain yelling into the comlink, "Code orange, code orange!" They dash up the steep boarding ramp, and Lanx begins to follow the Captain to the cargohold but is stopped by him. "Lanx, you need to go to the bridge."
"No, sir, I want to fight with you!"
"Lanx, just do as I say! We'll get through this, when have they ever stopped us?"
Grinning, Lanx turns the other way and runs towards the bridge. He arrives to find two of the ussual four bridge crew nervously awaiting orders. The Captain's voice is heard over every speaker. "Men, this is it. Half of you will make a stand with me while the other half mans their ussual stations. We'll need to bust out of here once we take down the inspection force. Give 'em hell, boys!"
Chears can be heard throughout the Pirate ship, and Lanx unsurelingly sits down in the bridge command chair. He watches the cameras nervously as eighteen soldiers make their way to the cargohold. The door opens and blasterfire spills towards them. It is so loud Lanx has to turn down the volume to stand it. He sees soldier after soldier fall, but can see nothing inside the hold. The last one falls, and he lets out an excited chear.
To his suprise no chears come from the hold. He starts to get up to assist the injured, but his comlink beeps. He takes it out and into it speaks, "Brach here."
The Captain's voice crackles over, but it souds weaker than usual. "Lanx . . ."
"You did it sir! You-"
"Lanx . . ." his quiet voice interupts. "She's yours . . ."
Lanx falls back into his seat when nothing but static replys to his further inquisitions. This can't be happening . . . not again! He thinks as the memories of himself and the Captain flood through his mind. He doesn't know what to do, and in the next few moments he feels completely lost and unaware of what is happening to him.
The panicked voices of the crewman bring him back to reality. "Sir, what do we do?"
"What now Captain?"
"Captain, they're coming!"