Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

chirp, chirp

My eyes fluttered, but I valiantly stayed asleep.

CHIRP, chirp

I grumbled and lazily swatted around by my pillow to silence my phone. My search came up empty. Cursing under my breath I sat up, stabilized myself with one hand as I wrenched the pillow off the bed, and discovered some very concerning things. First, but not the most pressing, was that my phone was missing. Second was that this wasn't my bed, third this wasn't my bedroom. Third, the arm that was braced against the mattress wasn't mine. Last, but certainly not least, there was a blinking chat window hovering in the upper left edge of my vision.

My mind stalled. For a moment, everything around me froze as my brain started up again. The skin on my arm was a deep crimson. It was too natural to be from a prank. If it was fake then it was some seriously impressive make-up. The bed I was on was a bit smaller than a Queen, but the cushion was perfect, and the sheets felt like silk.

I sat back on the bed and examined my body. This wasn't what I looked like when I had went to sleep last night. Did I go to sleep last night? Come to think of it, I don't remember what I was doing before I woke up here. The various aches and pains I had collected through the years were gone. I hadn't been in this good of shape since my twenties. Actually, I had never been in this good shape.

CHIRP, CHIRP

The sound was much louder this time. I paused the inspection of my new body to read the window.

• Congratulations!
• You have been chosen to receive access to the Forge
• For entertainment purposes you have been relocated to an interesting setting
• Your new form should be a familiar one
• Try to put on a good show!
• Personal Warehouse Acquired
• House Key Acquired

I narrowed my eyes at the last three lines. Isekai wasn't unknown to me, I liked the occasional anime and manga, but this was a little different than what I had seen. What the hell did that mean?

• Personal Warehouse
  Your own personal dimension to store your junk. Any workshops, storage areas, garages, or rooms will be added to your warehouse. Does not come with any furnishings.
• House Key
  This key will temporarily transform any door into a doorway to your Personal Warehouse. It can only be used by you. If lost or stolen it will return to your possession within one hour.
• Wallet
  This wallet will take the shape of whatever you like, within reason. It can automatically draw from storage in your ship and warehouse. Only you, or those you authorize, can access it. Currency is converted to local standard.
• Money
  Buy yourself something pretty.

I glared at the window panel as it faded away. It appeared again once I tried to focus on it. With a shrug, I got off the bed and started to take stock of where I was. A constant, gentle rumble tickled a thought at the edge of my mind, but I couldn't put the pieces together just yet. My new bedroom was the size of a small hotel room, but with much nicer furnishings. There was a shower cubicle with a toilet that folded into the wall near the foot of the bed. Across from it there were two other doors, one that turned out to be a closet and one that led out into the hallway.

A Mandalorian helmet that stared back at me from the closet made it pretty clear where I was. It was blue with gold accents and made everything click. This was my character from The Old Republic. A Pureblood Sith Mercenary that wore Mandalorian Armor. In my prime gaming time, I was part of a Mandalorian Bounty Hunter Guild. There were RP elements, but it wasn't hardline. I even learned a bit of Mando'a for the hell of it. We would gather to take down world bosses and arrange PVP 'bounty' hunts.

There was a veritable arsenal that was carefully arranged on racks in the closet with the armor. A collection of pistols, rifles, a couple weapons that looked like SMGs, and a row of grenades were overshadowed by a single lightsaber hilt resting carefully in front of it all.

I moved with a reverent slowness as I picked up the hilts. They activated with a hiss and short blue blade emerging. It fit perfectly in my hands, nice with one and fine with two. I deactivated them and placed them back on their place in the closet.

The near-panic was replaced with a jolt of excited energy. I was in Star Wars. Hours upon hours of my free-time was spent imagining something like this. Usually, I took the spot of Luke rather than my TOR character, but I wasn't going to complain.

Now, I was Kiskin, a Sith Pureblood which was a near-human with crimson skin. I had opted to skip the weird face tentacles and went with some bone ridges along the bridge of my nose and eyebrows while my eyes were a vibrant orange with strands of gold along edge of my pupil. My new body looked to be in the mid-twenties, or whatever the equivalent was for Sith, with an athletic build. I didn't have a six-pack, but it was damn close. My muscles were firm and functional rather than for show.

There was no way in hell I wasn't going to put on this armor.

~

The armor was a lot more comfortable than I had expected. It was temperature controlled, fit perfectly, and lighter than it looked. The HUD for the helmet gave me one-hundred and eighty degrees of vision, monitored my armor integrity, and kept count of all of the various ammunition I carried. My vambraces each had an arsenal unto themselves, not to mention this Universes version of an Omni-Tool that came with a suite of functionality. Even the jetpack felt good to wear. I didn't have a cape, cloak, or poncho that was so popular in the setting, but that was probably a good thing. Always ended up looking like an idiot in one of those.

Two blasters were holstered at my waist, an A180 and a K-16 Bryar. A knife was sheathed in my boot as well as another strapped to the small of my back. There was a hold-out blaster hidden in a pocket on the underside of my left vambraces, the one that didn't have a flamethrower in it. I opted to forgo anything bigger than a pistol.

Once I was suited up I explored my ship. It wasn't one from the games. The model was a YT-1930 and was crewed by a squad of B-1 battle-droids, a few astromechs, and some maintenance droids. There was also a Virtual Intelligence that functioned as an interface for the ship and coordinator for the crew. My room, the captains' quarters, was the biggest of a group of rooms suitable for passengers or more crew. There was also a speeder in one of the two cargo bays.

• Armored Up +100 Forge Points
• Roll – Bank – Shop

I could guess what Bank and Shop meant, but Roll was a new one to me. What were Forge Points? Curiosity got the better of me.

• Name: Runic Spell Innovator
• Cost: 200 points
• Not Enough Points
• Bookmark – Purchase – Dismiss

That didn't sound familiar whatsoever, so I dismissed it. Following my curiosity, I selected Shop.

• Bounty Hunter Skill Set – 100 Points
• Captains Skill Set – 100 Points
• Blade Master Skill Set – 100 Points

Those all sounded amazing. The setup was simple: earn Forge Points then spend Forge Points to purchase or pass on the Options. I had the saber and desperately wanted to use it. However, I knew that depending on the Era they could draw a lot of unwanted attention. I needed to figure out where I was in the timeline before I started using them and the Force. The Bounty Hunter Skill Set sounded like the most useful at the moment.

• Bounty Hunter Skill Set Purchased
• Current Balance – 0 Points

I rocked back and almost lost my balance as a myriad of skill dropped into my brain. Without a doubt I knew I could use and maintain my entire arsenal and armor like I had years of experience. I also knew how to track targets across a variety of terrain, gather information, and even some dirty fighting techniques for good measure. Unfortunately, I wasn't a member of the Bounty Hunters Guild yet, but I knew a couple of places I could visit to correct that.

My curiosity about this Warehouse and the House Key was too much to ignore. Sure, I needed to know when I was, but there was this shiny new thing that was begging for attention. The key looked like a classic skeleton key. It transformed into something like a key-fob as it got closer to the door.

The key let out a little chime and the door slid open. Instead of my ship, it was a flat expanse of the interior of a warehouse. It was rather clean and looked like it had just been built, but it was just like it said. There weren't any furnishings, it was simply an expanse of open space. Disappointed, I closed the door and clicked the key once more. It had said it wasn't furnished, which meant it could be at some later point. Maybe I would need to bring in everything from the outside. The next time I opened it I was greeted by the sight of the interior of my ship.

Now, I just needed to figure out where I was in the timeline. The B1 droids looked like they had stepped right off the assembly line and the astromechs were R-series. While the technology didn't make leaps and bounds, there was a different flavor from different points in time. Old Republic droids were a bit bulkier than the Skywalker Saga.

I headed to the cockpit. The Virtual Intelligence booted up, taking shape as a holographic orb on the Control Panel.

"Welcome, Captain," my VI, Carrie, greeted me.

"Hello," I replied. "I need some information."

"Of course," Carrie replied. "Just ask."

"I need to do a search or recent events. Narrow it down to the last year," I said. "Keywords: Palpatine, Naboo, and Alderaan."

"Searching," Carrie said. "Sheev Palpatine, Senate Representative for Naboo, calls for sanctions against Trade Federation. Trade Federation claims blockade on Naboo is within legal parameters."

"How long ago was that?" I asked.

"Two weeks," Carrie replied.

I tapped the edge of my helmet as I thought. Two weeks. That would put me a little bit before Episode One if the Jedi hadn't sent anyone to negotiate for Naboo yet. This presented a couple of problems. Pureblood Sith had been extinct for a couple thousand years at this point. I'd need to keep my helmet on unless I wanted someone to strip me of genetic material for study. Then there was the overarching plot that was about to kick off. If I could get to Tatooine before the Jedi then I could snag Anakin. That would certainly scramble the timeline going forward. Removing Anakin from the plot of the first movie would be an interesting change. He did blow up the Trade Federation ship, but that was an accident.

Whoever put me here wanted a show. Why not give it to them? First stop Tatooine.

"Carrie, set course for Tatooine," I said.

"I can't do that, Captain," she said in an eerily calm tone.

At least she didn't call me Dave.

"Why not?" I asked.

"We've been orbiting Tatooine since you woke up," Carrie replied.

"Take us in for a landing," I chuckled. "Mos Espa."

• Tatooine? Tatooine! +100 Points
• Roll – Bank – Shop

I shook my head at the notice. Roll.

• Name: Hangar
• Cost: 100FP
• Gives a Warehouse attachment for planes, vehicles, boats, and submarines. A very all-encompassing storage space that keeps the vehicles stored in prime condition too.
  For an additional +50FP, these hangar bays also come equipped with special clamps and harnesses to refit and refuel any vehicle  much more quickly than they would if you were using them by hand. For sea-based bases, this also means you have docks for boats and submarines.
• Bookmark – Purchase – Dismiss

"Purchase," I said under my breath.

• Current Balance: 0 Points

Now I just had to figure out how to move my ship there. I was tempted to try the key on the door to my quarters to see what this warehouse looked like. It would also let me check if there was a way to pull the ship into the hangar from inside. Though that gave me a bit of a headache. If the door to access the warehouse was in the ship and the ship was in the warehouse then would I be stuck?

• Want to find out?

"No thanks," I muttered.

I sat in the pilot chair and let Carrie handle the process. Either I would need to purchase that Captains Skill pack or hire a pilot. Carrie already did most of the ship tasks or directed the droids to do them. It took me a moment once her conversation was finished that I realized I had understood what had been said. They weren't speaking English, or Basic, it had been Huttese. I still knew a few words in Mando'a, but I never learned how to speak Huttese.

• We had people learn the local language in the past. It got old.

Whoever was behind these messages had clearly done this before. Honestly, I would rather be in a few versions after they've had time to iron out some rough patches rather than the Beta-Test.

I shook that line of thought away and focused on the matters at hand. The ship came to a landing in a dusty bay that looked like it had seen better days. This was Tatooine so that could mean it had been around for a few generations or built yesterday. The desert was not a kind place.

"Welcome," a Twi'lek guy hurried out toward the ship as I walked down the ramp.

He came to a sudden halt as he saw the armor I wore.

"Welcome," he repeated, this time bowing deeply. "Mando. I am dockmaster, Bip. What brings you to our humble town?"

"Parts," I replied. My voice came out modulated through the helmet speaker. "For a Nubian cruiser."

"Oh," the dockmaster leaned over to get a better look at my ship.

It clearly wasn't Nubian.

"Problem?" I snapped.

"No, no, of course not, Mando," the dockmaster bowed again. "Watto's Scrapyard. He deals in higher end ship parts."

I inclined my head and stepped around him. He was a little taller than me, which I found kind of funny. I wasn't sure which of the shows, movies, and all of that were part of this timeline. The current Mandalorian regime was switching over to full Pacifism If the Clone Wars show was among them. I hated that idea and Death Watch were just as bad. Unfortunately, I hadn't given the cartoons much attention aside from the occasional episode I caught at random. I knew the broad-strokes of the plot. The details were lost on me. Most of the big plot points would be different, or completely scrapped, if I could snag Anakin before things kicked off.

"Um," the dockmaster squeaked. "The fee."

"How much?" I asked.

"Twenty credits," the dockmaster said.

I stared at him without saying anything. It was amazing how much could be conveyed with a full-face mask. He gulped.

"Fifteen credits," he corrected.

I tilted my head to the side.

"I meant, five credits," he said as he took a step back.

"Which one?" I asked flatly.

"Five," he squeaked.

"What happened to twenty?" I pressed.

"I was going to keep the extra," he admitted practically shrinking into himself.

I pulled out fifteen credits from my wallet. It came out as two metal squares of some type I didn't recognize. I held them out to him. His hand shook as he reached to take them. He stared at the two credits then back to me with clear confusion on his face.

"Nothing wrong with making a little profit," I said. "Just don't get greedy. That's how people end up dead."

He nodded enthusiastically, took the credits, and hurried out of the hangar. I sighed. Directions would have been helpful. Standing around wasn't going to get me anywhere. My hand stayed close to my blaster in a loose, slight motion as I stepped out into the town.

The streets were relatively busy. A quick check of my helmet's HUD told me it was mid-morning. It also converted the temperature into something that I could understand. Needless to say, it was hot. The love I felt for my armor doubled as I was nice and cool while the exterior temperature rose higher.

I scanned the signs around the street. There were a couple of open-air bars, a restaurant, and what looked to be general store, but Watto's Scrapyard wasn't among them. An annoyed sigh escaped my lips. I decided to play into the Mandalorian side of things and grabbed a passing person by their arm, pulling them to a stop.

Their words cut short as they came face-to-helmet with me.

"Watto's Scrapyard," I said simply.

"Th-That way," the pointed toward the left side of the street.

I flipped them a credit as I walked away. Regardless of the galaxy, money could smooth over a lot of rough edges. The buildings in the town changed as I headed down the street. Outdoor seating shifted to stores then to a wide blank space before the scrapyards and mechanics began to pop up. It didn't do much for the air quality, but the smell didn't bother the people eating.

My HUD told me the temperature inside was a good five degrees cooler. The scan that followed annoyingly told me that there was only one life-form in the room. A second wider search told me that there was a human outside in the heat.

I walked over to where Watto rested on a counter. His attention was on a data-pad, mostly unaware of my approach.

"What do you want?" The Toydarian grumbled.

"Parts for a Nubian yacht," I stated.

"Nubian," Watto practically purred. "Expensive, rare…" His 'sales pitch' stopped as he finally looked at me. "Mandalorian? What do you want with a Nubian? Thought they would be too pretty for your kind."

"I'm stylish," I replied evenly.

The voice modulation from my helmet made anything I said sound more intimidating. I had meant it as a joke, but his gulp told me it didn't come out that way. The fact that I was basically a walking tank with the arsenal to match may have played a part too.

"Anakin," Watto called.

I waited for a moment. Thankfully, my helmet hid my shock. It was a young Hayden Christensen that came in rather than Jake Llyod. I guess it made sense, they didn't look alike, especially as they got older, so having the guy who played Anakin in most other appearances worked.

"Do we still have those Nubian parts?" Watto asked in Huttese.

I played dumb, not acknowledging that I understood them.

"Yes, I covered it with a tarp like you asked. Did you want me to scrap it now?" Anakin answered, he came to a harsh stop as he saw me. "You're a Mandalorian. Are you here to kill someone?"

"If I must," I replied.

The two returned to a conversation in Huttese. Watto knew what he was doing, subtly tossing a couple of questions aimed at me to see if I knew what he was saying. They weren't pertinent to the situation, so I just ignored him. He had made a point of looking at Anakin through their conversation so I would have had to interrupt them to answer.

"Yes," Watto said finally. "I have parts for a Nubian Yacht. Nothing for a fighter or cruiser."

"Let me see," I ordered.

"Anakin, show him," Watto said in Huttese.

"Follow me," Anakin waved at me.

I stayed a couple of steps behind the kid. My HUD had tagged Watto. It kept track of his position and any potential out-going communications. Mandalorian armor could fetch quite a price on the right markets. The pervading stereotype of an entire culture that was bounty hunters or soldier-for-hire also meant that jobs might come my way simply by being seen. Unless the timeline included the Clone Wars changes. In that case, a Mandalorian in blue armor would make people think I was part of Death Watch. Not everyone knew the significance of the chosen colors. Blue was reliability and gold was vengeance. It also looked badass.

That did bring up the timeline once again. I needed to see how much of the shows, movies, comics, and all that had actually happened in this version of the setting. My meta-knowledge wouldn't help me with the details once I started making changes, but the general information should give me a steady base to work with. Figuring out the year was pretty useless. The official fandom was set as Before Battle of Yavin and After Battle of Yavin. As it hadn't happened yet, everything was on their own system-based calendar. Today was the Seventh of Jabbia, whatever that meant.

"How old are you, kid?" I asked.

"Nine," Anakin answered. "I'll be ten soon."

"Do all of your family work for Watto?" I asked.

"Yes," his shoulders slumped. "My mom and me. We're slaves."

"Hm," I clicked my tongue. "Your father?"

Anakin shrugged. His mood picked up as he came to the tarp-covered engine. A burst of dust and grit filled the air as he pulled the cover away. I smiled under my helmet as he coughed.

"You good, kid?" I asked.

"Yeah," Anakin said between coughs. "I hate sand."

"I know what you mean," I chuckled. "It's course, rough, and it gets everywhere."

"I KNOW!" Anakin agreed. "One day, I'm going to leave this planet and live somewhere with no sand."

"What do you think about it?" I asked the kid.

He shrugged.

"What needs to be fixed on it?" I asked softer so only he could hear.

"The sun and the sand gums things up," Anakin answered. "Watto makes sure his parts are in working order. Word gets around fast on Tatooine."

"I'll take it," I nodded. "How much?"

"Ten thousand," Watto replied.

I stared at him for a long, silent moment, letting the helmet do the talking.

"Eight," I countered.

"Eight?" Watto made it sound like I just slapped him. "I will not break even. Nine, five."

"Nine, five?" I shook my head. "How long has that been sitting in your backlot? Nine."

"Sold," Watto said a little too quickly for my liking.

I had an instinctive grasp on how much money I had in my wallet. The correct amount would come out whenever I reached in with something in mind. Three thick rectangles with a slight silver sheen to it covered the cost of the part. Still, it felt like I had just gotten ripped off. I tossed the equivalent of a hundred credits on top of everything.

"I'm going to take this back to my ship, restore it, and sell it," I explained. "It's going to take a while. If someone comes in looking for Nubian parts, send them my way and you'll get a cut."

"Of course," Watto caressed the extra hundred with something akin to love. "Your name?"

"Kiskin," I replied. "My ship is at landing bay Echo Seven."

"Echo seven," Watto repeated.

I paused, looking over to where Anakin stood.

"How much for the boy and his mother?" I asked.

"What?" Watto hopped up, his wings kickstarted before he could drop too far. "Why?"

"I want the kid and having his mother nearby makes them easier to be around," I replied easily.

"Why do you want them?" Watto sounded more protective than I had expected.

"The kid reminds me of someone," I admitted. "He's got that mechanic look to him. Got a feel that if I give him a few tools he'll be able to take apart my ship and put back together better than ever."

"Twenty thousand for both," Watto growled out. "It will take a lot to replace two slaves."

"Toss in their deactivation codes and you've got a deal," I said not hiding the smile in my voice.

Watto grumbled. He cursed in two different languages before he disappeared into the back of the shop. The sound of his wings was loud enough to hear through the closed door. I looked back at Anakin to see him staring wide-eyed at me. Anything I would have said drowned out my more cursing and the sound of things being thrown in the back room.

Eventually, Watto returned with a stained white stick that looked like a garage-door remote. He stopped out of my reach.

"Twenty thousand," he practically spat.

I pulled out a stack of credits that equaled twenty thousand credits. Watto tossed the remote to me. My helmet scanned it and translated the functions. A small block of instructions appeared in my helmet HUD. I turned to Anakin and hit the correct button. A bright red light blinked at the base of his skull. Three short flashes to show it had deactivated.

"Welcome to the crew, kid," I said.

Anakin yelled and spun in place.

"Come on," he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door. "We have to get my mom."

"Wait," I said.

Anakin stopped. He practically vibrated with energy, but he didn't try to leave.

"My droids will be by later," I reminded Watto. "I look forward to doing business with you in the future."

Watto grumbled and waved without looking at me.

"Lead the way, Anakin," I turned back to the Chosen One.

• Destiny Can Sit and Spin
  +200 Points
• George Can Too
  +100 Points
• Fated Encounter
  +200 Points
• Balance: 500 Points
• Roll – Bank – Shop

I hung back a couple of steps. A quick couple of changes on my HUD turned off the speaker in my helmet.

"Roll," I said.

• Cost: 1000 FP
• Technology: Lucre Hulk Class Droid Control Ship
• This ship acts more as a mobile space station with a central sphere which acts as the ship's bridge and reactor assembly. The major feature of this ship is that it can mass-produce droids and is able to control them using its array of Broadcast equipment. This ship is able to mass produce basic B-1 Battle Droids, Vulture Droids, C-9979 landing craft, Multi-Troop Transports, Armored Assault Tanks and Platoon Attack Craft.
• Bookmark – Purchase – Dismiss

"Damn," I said.

A Droid Control Ship. That could potentially change the Battle for Naboo in a big way. Too bad I needed another five hundred points before I could get it.

"Bookmark," I ordered.

• Warning – You can only bookmark one item at this time
• Lucre Hulk Class Droid Control Ship – Bookmarked
• Roll – Bank – Shop

"Nice," I whispered.

Buying another skill package from the Shop was tempting. So was taking a chance on a Roll. Why not? I could just Dismiss the choice if it wasn't worth it. It was doubtful the System would let me Roll again if I didn't take the second option.

"Roll," I repeated.

• Cost: 500 FP
• Abilities: Precision and Definition
• A true Master understands the need for a softer touch at times, to avoid frivolity and wastefulness. You are such a master, being able to use the Force with precision and flexibility not often found in youth. Very fine telekinetic manipulations, charging a battery with a definite application of lightning or touching upon the minds of an audience most gently to lend to a speech without it being noticed. This perk goes beyond your application of the Force, of course, providing an almost impossible level of delicacy with any supernatural power. A Ki blast like a micrometer laser? Teleportation onto an incredibly narrow wire? Both possible with this perk, assuming you couldn’t do so before.
• Bookmark – Purchase – Dismiss

"Holy fuck," I whispered.

If I had read that correctly, I would basically jump to a Master level Jedi for five hundred points. It would take everything I had. There was no way I was going to let it go.

"Purchase," I said as fast as I could.

Instantly, the world around me came alive. I could feel the Force everywhere and in everything. The ambient energy drifting on the air currents. Wild branches of the Force from deep in the dark of space that blanketed entire planets. I hadn't realized I had dropped to my knees until I felt Anakin knock on my helmet. My eyes had closed at some point, I opened them and instantly regretted it. Anakin burned brighter than the two suns in the sky.

"Are you ok?" Anakin grabbed the side of my helmet to steady my head.

"Yeah," I let out a breath.

He didn't hear me. I chuckled to myself before activating the speaker on my helmet.

"I'm good, kid," I said as I regained my feet. "A bit of hyperspace lag. Let's go meet your mother."