Chapter 3: Unarmed Does Not Mean Easy Pickings
Star Wars + Harry Potter Crossover
Chapter 3: Unarmed Does Not Mean Easy Pickings
796 BBY
2,857 ATC
Harry walked up the small rise and towards what the Droid had referred to as a 'Jedi Enclave'. The slow walk allowed him to think and allowed him to gently relax, after all, it has been a crazy few weeks since the Department of Mysteries.
Harry was only holding himself together by taking it one simple step at a time.
He knew that would not work forever and he would have to face all the feelings behind running after Sirius and Sirius's death at some point and he knew that the little spikes of emotion that he'd been having over it were probably not healthy.
Now was not the time to fall apart and grieve properly though as frankly, he couldn't afford to at this present moment, there was still too much unknown about where he was.
As much as he wasn't lying when he said he wanted to go home he needed to sort out some things first. He not only needed money but resources and (with any luck) a place to call home at least in the short term.
He couldn't, after all, keep living only with an ancient droid for company forever. This was especially true because no matter how helpful it's archive was, by its own internal clock, it was at least 3000 years out of date. Harry didn't think that two weeks lessons in galactic history could teach him what he needed to know.
Unbeknownst to Harry, he was drawing a small amount of attention due to how he looked. Standing at 5 feet 11 inches or 1.8 metres tall (if you preferred that measurement) in dated and slightly archaic clothing the 15-year-old did not necessarily rate a second look. That was until you took into account the fact that despite his tousled black hair and emerald green eyes he seemed completely unarmed.
It wasn't that Dantooine was a particularly violent place, nor was it in the midst of a civil war however it was customary that any adults or lone travellers were armed.
After all, this wasn't the Core where pampered princes strutted about unarmed with haughty grins while the poor suffered in the dark but rather it was the Outer Rim where, due to the wildlife, even farmers carried blasters as they never knew when they might be attacked as an easy meal.
So as he walked to the main entrance and saw a series of cloth tents sprawled haphazardly around the enclave he did get some odd looks.
The market tents themselves were arranged to either side of the main entrance almost, but not quite, forming a true archway of tents with each vendor loudly proclaiming the brilliance and authenticity of their own wares to the derision of their competitors.
"Look what we have here Drell... a wannabe scavenger or treasure hunter as they like to be called? Still looting a body is looting a body no matter which way you slice it" said (what was according to the archives) a Twi'lek female.
"Leave the boy alone Nyx" responded Drell with (what even a blind man would consider) fake concern. The voice was like oil, slick and unforgiving and, at that moment, calculating. "Maybe he's a buyer...maybe he has money?" There was a gleam of unfettered greed in the Rodian's dark eyes.
"Yeah right!" she responded "And I'm a senator for the Galactic Republic!" she laughed dismissively.
She looked Harry up and down almost as if the gold-skinned beauty was evaluating his worth. From her expression alone it seemed that she found him lacking in some fundamental aspect.
What a shame, he thought somewhat wistfully, after all, he may have wanted to get home but there was no harm in a little daydreaming. Apparently, she could read expressions as she gave a full bright grin and said
"Look me up when you grow up green eyes… now, are you looking to buy, explore or ask silly questions?"
"Errr.." said Harry "the last two I think? Though" he added gallantly "for a beautiful lady such as yourself I'll try to keep anything stupid to a minimum". The twenty-something Twi'lek at least grinned at his response.
"It's more than I can usually say of most men" she paused " and more than you can say of this one at least" She added pointing at Drell.
"How dare you Nyx!" grouched Drell. Nyx ignored him and focused solely on Harry.
"What questions do you want to ask?" she said in a tired long-suffering voice.
"Correct me if I'm wrong but this place is old yes? Surely there is not that much left to explore?"
"Of course there is" she paused "at least on the lowest level providing, of course, that you can find your way in through the sublevel"
"What do you mean by that?" She ran her eyes up and down him and it appeared for a second that she might actually care what happened to him just a little.
"Look kid... I like you... just go home ok? The sublevel would tear you apart"
"What do you mean by that?"
"She means" interrupted Drell "that the laigreks will feast on your flesh if you go down there" cackled the Rodian with dark humour.
"Drell! Stop that" Nyx said as she angrily turned to the Rodian. "Don't you have better things to do other than scare children? Like rob some of your customers maybe?"
"I don't rob my customers!" was the shrill response.
"I've seen your prices! 5 credits for a lump of rock? really? Have you no shame?"
Their discussion, as lively as it was, attracted a crowd of actual customers making Drell forget about Harry if only for the moment.
"She is only joking good people! I assure you we are friends!" He plastered a fake smile on his face as he moved towards the nearest person he could see, arms wide "We often joke around".
"So... as you were saying?" prodded Harry.
"Look kid I don't want you to die but, if you're so insistent on going down there, please buy a weapon... if only so you survive to ask me out again". She smiled as she paused a moment "and before you get any ideas that's not me suggesting you do it now, rather it's me protecting a future investment".
"I don't have any money" admitted Harry.
"Of course you don't! That's why you thought it was a good idea to go down there treasure hunting with a bunch of flesh-eating laigreks" she ranted.
"You seem upset" he commented mildly.
"And you young man have a death wish".
"Somehow I highly doubt you are the first person to think that about me" admitted Harry.
"Somehow I'm not surprised... look if you have to go in there hug the walls ok? Be very quiet, no one is quite sure, but we think they track you through sound" she said in a hushed tone.
"Good to know. Anything else?"
"Only that due to cave-ins we've installed a lift to the sublevel and it's through the doors behind me to your right. You won't find much, the sublevel has mostly been picked clean".
Seeing his look she added "Some scavengers did find a hidden door and that's why everyone is here now claiming to have fresh artefacts... but they've been Jedi locked".
"Jedi locked?"
"Yeah they did that Force thing" she wiggled her fingers suggestively "to the hidden door someone uncovered recently right across from the destroyed old entrance to the sublevel".
"And what happened when people tried to tunnel their way down?"
"Laigreks... lots and lots of them. It took us two weeks to collapse the first tunnel but more just keep coming up now"
"Does the lift put me near the locked door?"
"Of course not" she responded
"Of course not" he fatalistically and somewhat cheerfully agreed.
As he stood up to go he couldn't help but ask "One last question? Why haven't the Jedi come back to at least take their treasures?"
"I get the impression that they don't know what's down there but they do try periodically" her eyebrows knitted together in thought "I've lived here since I was 6 years old they come by every 5 years or so... they always mutter something about too much death, the Dark Side and not being healed yet only to come back in another five years and do it all over again." She paused before continuing " I would write it off as Jedi strangeness but they do always look ill when they leave".
"And they just leave the door unlocked?" he queried.
"Well it's not like there's a Sith coming to open the door is there?"
"No" he said distantly "not a Sith"
Snapping abruptly out of his runaway thoughts, he waved to Nyx while drawing his wand.
He didn't notice the other eyes watching him or Nyx. Those eyes belonged to another person that had heard the entire conversation and were calculating the unknown that he was or that Nyx shook her head sadly thinking that another fool was off to die.
It wouldn't have mattered if he had, after all, he had to get home and this might help him do it.
-LAFA-
The only thing that Harry could think as he bandaged his right arm, three hours later, was that this was one of his worst ideas. On reflection, it was right up there with taunting a dragon.
Sure these beasts were not as big but there must have been fifty of the things so far and they liked to attack in groups.
Oh, he thought, and they also breathed fire. In the torrent of information that he got no one and nothing had ever mentioned that they breathed fucking fire!
He was never more full of regret that he wasn't sorted into Ravenclaw than at that very moment. Healing magic wasn't taught as a standard curriculum at Hogwarts which, of course, meant that only Ravenclaws and Hermione learnt it with any consistency.
All he really knew was Episkey for small cuts and Ferula for a bandage and splint that should last just last a few hours. In theory, he also knew Brackium Emendo but as that spell fixed broken bones and he had never done it before he wasn't exactly anxious to try it.
So that was why he was injured, with a deep gash in his right shoulder, behind a small magically locked door, trying against the odds, to figure out a way out without being eaten by the enraged laigreks slamming their bodies so hard into the door that was beginning to split.
He knew that the door would not last long and he would have to have some sort of medical attention soon.
Without more knowledge, the best that Harry could do was bandage his injuries with a bit of robe torn from his sleeve and dipped in an old bottle of (what he assumed) was whiskey that he had managed to find over an hour ago. It sure tasted alcoholic at any rate and it helped with the pain but he honestly couldn't tell what it was as he still didn't know the language.
It seemed that his life was becoming full of strange moments like this.
Resources in the long term were not a problem, due to the Geological Forge, however, it was currently running at a fraction of its capacity.
Not to mention it was so power hungry that it almost made him pass out making the robe or that in its small state it was fully occupied making the cloning equipment and the clone itself.
The state of the clone was another strange moment in and of itself, in a year he would have a crying blood bag that could possibly protect him in the event of death, and neatly bypassed the need to be in the Ratakan cloning chamber to change bodies.
Of course that all depended on him not dying in this tiny room right now or he would never see his friends again, he would never hear Neville's laugh again or the comforting scratch of Hermione's quill.
He would never kiss Luna again.
No. He knew what he needed to do, even if the thought did make him slightly sick. If it came down to a choice between his disgust and not getting home again or dying at this very moment he knew that he had already made his choice.
Mind made up he stood and moved away from the door wand held loosely in his left hand with the fleeting thought that he should have practised with his off hand more.
"Bombarda Maxima" he screamed pointing at the door.
As the chunks of door exploded injuring several of the beasts he gathered himself for what he was about to do. Stupefy bounced of the flesh, cutters did minimal damage, Bombarda did a little more as did other blasting spells but he needed to stop them quickly before they could overwhelm him.
Even now they were pouring through the hole that his spell had made, heedless of their dead kin, he needed them gone.
He closed his eyes for a precious second.
He thought in that moment of his many years at the Dursley's home. He thought of the beatings, the humiliations, of Dudley's hand me down clothes and bars on his windows. He thought of when he was a child trying to earn their love and them rejecting him and how much that hurt. He thought of the food scraps that he was only just allowed to eat despite having to cook the food himself.
He also thought of Dumbledore and his platitudes, him forcing Harry back to the Dursley's, each and every year for more abuse. He thought finally of Dumbledore's ridiculous idea of complete forgiveness, letting Snape's abuses pass, the Slytherins racism and allowing him to be tormented with a blood quill instead of taking an incompetent Minister of Magic by the hand or chucking him out of office completely.
He had so much hate at that moment that it was almost as if he could feel it heating the air around him, that he could bathe in it like a great untapped pool of fire. It felt like if he opened his mouth he might choke on it or that it might come out as a vicious acidic flood.
That was exactly what Harry wanted, after all, Bella said you had to want them to work.
"Avada Kedavra" As he somehow knew it would the bright Emerald killing curse flew perfectly and destroyed the life of the beast in front of him.
Three minutes later there were fifteen dead Laigreks and a much more jaded Harry Potter.
He wasn't that way because he had to fight and all kill, no he had done that before, it was the simple fact that he had used a curse that his society deemed abhorrent. More than that though, he had used the same curse that killed his parents, not as a rash decision (like with the Caractacus) but willfully, deliberately and with vicious Intent.
Worst of all, however, was that when he was spitting out the curse, even with the dark magic feeling like a thousand dead flies rolling around in his mouth, a small and very primal part of him had liked it.
He would do it again. He'd do it a thousand times if it meant surviving. If it meant getting home he would learn to use every taboo, every unfair advantage, every dirty trick and exploit and do so without hesitation.
Sirius had died in part so Harry could live and he would not let him down or his parents, or even leave his friends waiting for him. He would make it home and in the meantime, he would do more than that.
He would thrive.
He walked towards the hidden door, killing curses flying and wand spewing a sickly green light at every red-eyed shadow. Soon enough they were not interested in him as food any more as they were too busy eating their siblings.
As he reached the locked door he was very tired, bleeding and teetering on the edge of magical exhaustion. He was after all still only a fifteen-year-old wizard and still a good ten years away from his magical peak.
What he really needed was a few hours rest and a lot of food (also if his hormones were allowed a say, a bubble bath with a very naked and willing Luna but that was beside the point).
It was time to see what was stronger, The Force or Magic "Alohomora!". He felt a great sense of relief then when the door opened without a sound and, more importantly, nothing jumped out trying to eat him.
He leaned against the wall and, as he tried to resist the urge to pass out, he pressed the button to go down to the next and only other level.
As the door opened again he was even more surprised to find that there were absolutely no laigreks here.
Harry wondered if the little buggers had nests either side and/or below this floor. If they did it would protect this room almost like being in the eye of a hurricane. A hungry hurricane with teeth, that could spit fire.
Ahead of him was a hallway with three rooms branching off and, mercy of mercies, the room was named in English of all things though it did have the squiggly language written underneath.
To his right was a room marked emergency storage, to his left was an armoury and in front of them was a room designated only as 'The Vault'.
Curiosity over cryptic names aside, he headed for emergency storage hoping against hope that there were some food rations and some sort of medicine.
For once he was in luck, though he knew better than to expect it to last. After discovering some sort of preserved food and clothes in lockers he made a makeshift bed. He also took some pills (which he hoped were medicine) and proceeded to have a long sleep.
When he woke he felt ready to look around properly and grabbing a backpack from one of the lockers he proceeded to loot to his heart's content. It wasn't until he had to magically unlock 'The Vault' though, that he found the jackpot.
His final tally of loot being; six changes of clothes, a small metal statue, a handful of what looked like hand grenades, fourteen Lightsabers and six Holocrons; (courtesy of The Vault) four of which supposedly belonged to Jedi and two Sith.
Not bad for almost dying again, Harry thought, as he stepped out of the elevator already mentally selling some of his goods.
He almost ran straight into two Rodians. Rodians with blasters.
"Hello again boy" mocked Drell "Thanks for making my partner and me very rich…"
"Well Shit" was Harry's reply
Really what else could he say?