Star Wars 0027 - Part II - An Order of Peace
Randall J. Morrison
A long time ago, in a galaxy
far,
far away . . .
Star Wars 0027
Part II
An Order of Peace
The Supreme Prophet of the Dark
Side, Militiades, has handed over Imperial colonization operations to
Grand Moff Cadime who moves on to the surrounding systems of Mon
Calamari. In the meantime, Militiades completes his trip to the House
of Lords after nearly one year of travel.
The remnants of Fleet 0027 have put together the last of the officers on
a cruiser outside the remote slave world of Alzoc III. There they begin
constructing a Rebel Base on-board a modified rendition of the venerable
Dreadnaught cruiser. Dominic Artemius and Ilyssis Pico, who are normally
under the service of 0027, are ready to depart from Fleet 0016 on
Coruscant.
In the local hyperspace zone of Alzoc III, the personal starship of Jedi
Knight Kyle
Katarn
is nearing the House of Lords. His son, a potential Jedi, lies on
board, possibly landing in the hands of Militiades. Should the young
child be raised as a dark apprentice, turmoil will inundate the new
generation of Jedi Knights. . . .
Red
lights blinked and flashed across the computer pad like keys on a piano.
An incoming call was showing up on the main deck of the Calamari Cruiser
Engraver. The Rebel officer sitting at computer control signaled
to Commander William Cygnus10 who was standing on the deck. “Yes,
Corporal,” said Cygnus10.
“Sir, a
weak signal is coming through from a satellite beacon on Alzoc III.
Judging by the log, this signal has been randomly emitted from the
planet’s surface for over a decade,” replied the Corporal, rather
surprised at what he was seeing.
“Is it a
distress beacon?” Cygnus10 asked.
“I believe
so, sir. It was written in the language of the Talz, and I cannot
translate it.”
“Do we
have anyone on board who can?” questioned the Commander. He tried
thinking of some officers who were good translators off the top of his
head, but none came to mind.
The
Corporal sat thinking for a moment and said, “Well, I think the
Lieutenantwait! There’s two ships coming in range. Oh, no!”
“What is
it, Corporal?!” said Cygnus10.
“One of
the approaching starships is . . . is . . . the House of Lords,
Commander.”
Cygnus10
almost gasped himself. What was a capital ship like that doing on
Alzoc III?, he thought. “You don’t suppose it has something to do
with the distress flare from the planet, do you?”
“It could
be, Commander,” said the officer, “According to these records, Alzoc III
has been an Imperial penal colony and slave camp for over twenty years.
But it was abandoned by the Empire a few years after the Battle of Endor.
The record shows that a dark Jedi was granted the ownership of the colony
and has been residing there ever since, making the Talz and other locals
do mindless slave labor.”
“How
mindless can slave labor be, Corporal?” asked Commander Cygnus10.
“Very,”
replied the officer. “I’ve seen these places before. Sometimes if the
dictator of the camp is there for only a sense of power, he will command
the slaves to do nothing but haul heavy chains from one end of a dry
field to another for no apparent reason. Once they’re done, they just
keep dragging the chains back and forth.”
“You’d
think with such a population as Alzoc III, there would be a rebellion
against the operator of the camp,” said Cygnus10.
“This
isn’t a good situation for that sort of thing, Commander,” said the
Corporal, “Remember that this is a dark Jedi Knight. If a Jedi operates
one of these facilities, unarmed slaves can’t do anything to a skilled
user of a lightsabre if you know what I mean.”
Cygnus10
nodded. “So how far away is the Super Star Destroyer then,
Corporal?”
“About as
far away as our scanners will pick up. About forty-five kilometres. The
other approaching ship is just a simple short-range freighter. It’s about
forty-two kilometres away from here,” said the Corporal.
“It seems
perfectly convenient to me that they came in range at the exact same
time,” Cygnus10 stated.
“I doubt
they are related, sir. Unfortunately, the threat display of the House
of Lords isn’t telling us its location. Somehow I doubt that it is
headed for Alzoc III, anyway,” said the officer. “The transport that is
coming has a log that says it’s coming from Mon Calamari, sir. Which is
obviously mistaken, because this ship doesn’t even contain a hyperdrive
unit.”
“Well,
that explains why it came just at the limits of our range.”
“That’s
true, Commander. If this ship is coming from Calamari, it has definitely
made many fuel and repair stops. Judging by the ships total max speed, it
has been traveling for eleven months and then some.”
“Its travelers must be very poor to not be able to afford a hyperdrive
from Mon Calamari to Alzoc. The fuel at that distance would cost even
more, thoughit doesn’t make any sense,” said Cygnus10, “What is there for
cargo, Corporal?”
“It says
nothing, sir. Its programming code suggests that it is stopping at Alzoc
III, picking up a load, and then will rendezvous with the House of
Lords, dropping off merchandise. But I would be wrong. Again I’m not
much of a multi-language expert.”
“So this
ship might have something to do with the House of Lords
then?”
“It could,
sir. But don’t bet on it. I still am very weak at the programming code. I
could just be getting my two logs mixed up,” said the Corporal. “Shall I
send an inspection crew?”
“Yes, you
do that, Corporal. I’m very curious as to what’s going on here.”
* * * *
The
message came quickly and was considered urgent. Scout transports were not
often called upon by such high-ranking officers as Commander Cygnus10.
Second Lieutenant Ty Chalmers was ordered to get his inspection ship
ready and scout out the cargo and destination of a suspicious freighter
that was headed in their direction.
As the
situation said, this short-range freighter seemed to be traveling from
Mon Calamari to Alzoc III with no hyperdrive unit installed. The
conspicuity of this is definitely what triggered Cygnus’ orders to check
into it further. Chalmers had been in similar situations before, but
nothing quite so bizarre.
Space
seemed empty except for the faint image of the freighter growing in size
through the viewscreen of Chalmers’ scout ship. When he came in an
articulative range of the freighter, he activated his communication
switch and talked into the speaker. “Unidentified freighter, this is a
scout ship for Calamari Cruiser Engraver and we have been ordered
to pursue our curiosity of your ship’s origin and destination. More
specifically, your log reads that this freighter of yours has come from
Mon Calamari to this point near Alzoc III without the aid of a hyperdrive
unit. Judging by the average speed of your ship, you have been traveling
for nearly one year if what I said was correct. Is this the truth?”
“Yes,
that’s right,” a voice said. Whoever was on the other side spoke very
casually about their obscure travel method.
“Could you
please explain this to us? Why is it that you would do something like
this? There’s no logic behind it,” Chalmers told them.
“I have
personal reasons and unless you have grounds to put us under arrest, I
don’t think you need to know about them.”
“It is
evidently a strange case of nihilist, obscure behaviour and we feel it
necessary to pursue the meaning behind this obscure behaviour. Traveling
for a year without a hyperdrive unit installed is not only illogical but
outlandishly expensive.”
“Is there
a law against it?” he snapped back. “No, no there isn’t. And until you
Republic types write a new law that forbids it, we have no reason to
comply to your request, so you go on back to your ship and leave us alone
to continue with our lives in privacy!”
Chalmers
couldn’t reply to that at all because it was true that he had no right to
ask the questions that he did, but this didn’t mean that the
Engraver couldn’t watch this freighter carefully anyway.
* * * *
“That’s
good, Master. I’m sick of Coruscant anyway,” spoke the voice of Ilyssis
Pico. His Jedi instructor Dominic Artemius sat across from him in the
lonely high council room.
“We’ll
leave in a couple of hours then, Ilyssis,” said Artemius. “I’m sure that
0016 doesn’t need our help anymore. They are the most powerful fleet the
Republic has got. Plus, if they do need a Jedi, they can call on
Skywalker.”
“You’re
right, Master,” said Pico. “I think I like 0027 better anyway. It’s not
as busy.”
Pico and
Artemius both stood from the chairs in the council room, acknowledging
the guard standing at the doorway. Pico, although young at seventeen,
looked strangely powerful in the Jedi cloak that he wore as he left the
room. The guard could see it, and so could Artemius. They ambled down a
large corridor with each of their hands invisible behind the cloak’s long
sleeves. The hoods hid most of their facial features as well. The door at
the end of the hallway opened with a mere command of the Force.
Mon Mothma
stood at the back of the busy room, talking to Supreme Commander
Tribvielle about something that Artemius nor Pico could make out from
where they were. Approaching Mothma, both of the Jedi removed their
hoods.
“Mistress
Mothma,” said Dominic, “we will be leaving the Independence for
the Engraver of 0027. I’m sorry that we cannot stay with you, but
our place lies with Admiral Torgon the Hutt and his smaller fleet.”
“I express
my full gratitude to your services, young Jedi,” she replied. “You have
proven to be of great value Dominic Artemius. Young Pico, I regret that
we did not see a display of your apparent skill, but I trust that it will
be utilized with 0027.”
“You’re
most welcome, mistress,” said Pico, giving a short bow to the woman and
turning to leave the room. Artemius followed closely behind. They exited
the room and headed for one of the hangar of the Independence flag
ship. It was hovering within the busy atmosphere of Coruscant.
It wasn’t
long before they boarded the simple rectangular freighter that would take
them to 0027’s present location near Alzoc III. The Calamari Cruiser
Engraver was housing the parts to build a large modified corvette
that would house the new Rebel Base for the fleet of 0027. Pico thought
the idea would fail. An entire fleet built onto a simple corvette didn’t
work for him. But he had to live with the decisions of those higher than
himself.
* * * *
The former
basic transport of Kyle Katarn had transformed into a house for his wife
Jan and five year-old son Antioch, no longer suiting its callsign:
Moldy Crow. Many of the old stock rooms and storage areas had been
transformed into closets and bedrooms. The only thing that he hadn’t
renovated for it’s change into a “house ship” was the cockpit. He tried
making it look more decorative once, but it just didn’t have the same
feel.
Jan Ors
turned the corner of the hallway and knocked on the wall next to the sash
that separated the cockpit from the rest of the ship. “Come on in,” said
Kyle pleasantly.
Jan walked
into the crammed room and sat in the seat next to him. “I haven’t watched
hyperspace through the window in awhile so I thought I’d join you and
bring in a glass of moonglow juice.”
“Moonglow?”
said Kyle. “You should know that it’s too expensive for just any
occasion.” Jan gave off a high-pitched grunt as if she thought that this
was as good a time as any.
“Antioch
is in his room watching that holodrama about lightsabres again,” said
Jan, referring to their son’s birthday present.
“We never
should’ve bought that for him. He’s been asking about getting a real one
for quite a while now,” said Kyle. Antioch Katarn would eventually be a
Jedi, but a lightsabre was a long way away from his age. He was just
moving pens around and picking up his toys with the Force for now. “We’re
just about to pull back into realspace.”
“Good.
That’s my favorite part,” said Jan. Kyle smiled and pushed the lever
forward, slowing the ship down and converting the bright blue
surroundings into starlines, eventually forming into normal stars. Kyle
had pulled out just in time. A split second sooner would’ve sent the
Moldy Crow smashing into the huge ship that appeared in front of
them.
“Whoa!”
shouted Kyle. “What is that?”
“If I
could see the whole thing I might be able to tell you,” said Jan. “It’s
huge!”
Turning
the ship to the left a bit, Kyle could see the main port that connected
to the giant ship. Two domes were mounted onto the bridge and that unique
and familiar structure sent shivers running up and down Kyle’s spine.
“We’ve got to get out of here.”
“I see
your point,” Jan said, having the same feelings as her spouse. They were
in the path of an Imperial Super Star Destroyer. Kyle switched to manual
control and tried diving underneath the capital ship. But it was no use.
They were caught in a tractor beam.
“Oh, no.
Hide Antioch, Jan. I need to fight this.”
* * * *
Militiades
stepped off of the ramp to his transport, pleased to have finally come
into an open area such as this. The hangar of the House of Lords
was much cleaner than the interior of that freighter. Meeting him, were
Grand Moff Cadime, Moff Straticate, Moff Weeld and Admiral Viin.
“Thank you
for finally coming, Militiades,” said Cadime. “We have been awaiting your
arrival. Fortunately, you arrived just in time for our tractor beam to
rake in an approaching ship. We believe that it could be hostile to
Imperial order.”
“Excellent,
Cadime,” he replied. “I was looking to catch a few innocent freighters as
I arrived anyhow. I haven’t experienced that exciting action of power in
quite some time.” Grand Moff Cadime escorted Militiades by his side as
they exited the hangar. Followed by the Moffs and the Admiral who came in
behind.
The
chamber that was reserved for Militiades also seemed so much larger from
spending that time on the Malevolent. A more comfortable chair and
a larger area was what he was made for. A comlink was conveniently linked
to Grand Moff Cadime from the chair the Prophet sat in. Cadime stood on
the main port usually and contacted Militiades if need be.
The ship
the tractor beam was pulling in to the House of Lords was coming
in close and the time to dispatch stormtroopers to the ship was nearing.
Admiral Viin would personally command the shock troops as they came near
the ship entrance shaft. A loud smash of metal was heard as the Super
Star Destroyer locked the Moldy Crow into place and pressed an
air-tight seal around the ship’s main entrance.
The set of
stormtroopers approached the door as Admiral Viin observed from a
far. The leader of the squad pulled a saw that emitted small beads of
energy and began cutting through the entrance of the ship. Sparks flew
from side to side as the saw eventually penetrated the door and the
stormtrooper kicked the remaining parts in. Moving off to the side, of
the inner parts to the ship, the leader let his command squad begin
firing. The array of smoke from the saw was still thick, but the troops
could still see a figure standing at the end of the ship’s corridor.
It was
Kyle Katarn, the Jedi Knight who had foiled the Empire once before. All
the stormtroopers recognized him but continued to fire random shots at
the man. Instinctively, Kyle moved to the disk slung at his side,
igniting the blade of his lightsabre. Although many of the shots got by
him, Kyle deflected most of them back at the attackers. It wasn’t too
difficult. Only so many stormtroopers could get into the ship at a time,
and it wasn’t hard to ward them away, either.
Admiral
Viin realized that this invasion of the ship was going nowhere. He pulled
a comlink from his utility belt and contacted Grand Moff Cadime, “Sir,
this is the ship of Kyle Katarn, the Jedi Knight. These stormtroopers
aren’t surviving. Is there anyone on board that can handle this?”
A crackled
voice came through the small handheld device. “I don’t think we have much
that can combat a Jedi on board. The only person capable is Militiades
that I know of but“ He was cut off as the Supreme Prophet of the Dark
Side walked into the main bridge.
“Grand
Moff Cadime,” he said. “I will gladly be the assailant of Kyle Katarn.”
Cadime nearly dropped the comlink at the Prophet’s tenacity. He had never
seen that kind of will from Militiades before, but it was working to his
advantage so far.
* * * *
“That
transport did board the House of Lords, sir,” said the deck
Corporal. Commander Cygnus10 returned to the main bridge to hear those
words.
“It did?”
“Yes, sir.
It didn’t even make the stop at the planet as the coding seemed to
suggest. However, several small transports are heading into Alzoc III
now.”
Cygnus10
wondered if it would be wise to prepare the fleet for a defense if the
House of Lords should spot them and attack. “Has Artemius’
freighter come out of hyperspace yet, Corporal?”
“Just a
few minutes ago, sir,” replied the Corporal. “I am bringing them in,
now.”
“I’ll be
waiting for them in the hangar then. Keep monitoring that Star
Destroyer,” said Cygnus10. With that, he left the bridge and made his way
down to the south hangar.
There was
a loud noise from the repairing and drilling that was going on in the
back. He watched a freighter from the entrance approach through the air
field. Cygnus10 jogged over to where it landed, a blue cape that he was
wearing flailed behind him.
He arrived
at the ship just as it landed and the exit ramp was touching down onto
the ground. Emerging from the ship were two cloaked Jedi Knights, one of
which was Artemius, and the other Cygnus10 had not yet been acquainted
with.
Both Jedi
removed the hoods of their cloaks and looked up at Cygnus10. “Hello,
Commander,” said Artemius. “This is my apprentice, Ilyssis Pico.” He
motioned his hand towards the youthful Jedi.
“I’ve
heard a great deal about you, Ilyssis,” said Cygnus10. “However, I did
imagine you to be a lot older than what your physique tells me now. How
old are you?”
“I’m
seventeen, sir,” replied Pico.
Pico,
although young, looked powerful somehow and Cygnus10 couldn’t discern
what it was about his aura that made this feeling. He felt sorry for
anyone who got in the wrong books with him. As Pico briefly turned and
looked at his master, Cygnus10 saw a brief radiance coruscate in his eyes
from underneath the cloak of the young Jedi.
“What was
that?” asked Cygnus10. Pico turned to him and smiled. “A flash just about
blinded me from your cloak. What was it?”
“Oh,
that,” said Pico. “I imagine it was just the light from the hangar
catching my lightsabre.”
“I’ve seen
a few lightsabres in my time, Ilyssis, and I know that they just don’t
come that shiny,” said Cygnus10, assuming that it must have been
something else. No hilt he had ever seen was that reflective.
“Oh, if
you insist, Commander,” said Pico, reaching underneath his cloak and
unhooking the hilt from his belt. What the young Jedi pulled from his
cloak was the most exquisite piece of small technology that Cygnus10 had
ever seen. It was shinier than even the decorative dagger carried by Ord
Mantell’s monarch as a means of protection.
“Wow,”
said Cygnus10. “That’s very nice.”
“Thank
you, Commander,” replied Pico.
“You might
have come just in time, Artemius,” said Cygnus10. “We might be able to
utilize you two. We have a bit of a mysterious situation to take care of
and you might end up being a part of it.” Pico was excited about that.
Although he never had experienced any desire for combat before, he was
anxious for some sort of action right now, no matter what it was.
Artemius
sensed something that he couldn’t put his finger on, but he was almost
sure that it was coming from near the Super Star Destroyer that he saw
when coming into this ship. It was a sense of unhappiness. A sense of
fear. And just by the look on his face, he could tell that Pico could
feel it, too.
* * * *
Dominic
Artemius sat quietly beside his apprentice in a comfortably enclosed
room. The chairs were cushioned well, but it didn’t change the cold
feeling that maintained flow through each of them. Artemius looked over
at Pico and he didn’t look happy at all.
“You feel
it, too, don’t you, Master?” said Pico. It wasn’t totally necessary for
him to answer, because if Pico could feel it, so could Artemius.
“Yes,”
Dominic said, “but what could be on board that capital ship that would
make such a feeling? I realize that the Prophet may be on board, but it
takes more than just one dark representative of the Force to achieve this
depressing a feeling.”
“You think
it’s coming from the ship?” questioned Pico.
“Well,
where else could it be, Ilyssis?”
“The
planet, Master.” Pico stood up and stared out the window of the room,
looking at the dry-looking world of Alzoc III. “What if it is a place of
chaos? Of despair?”
“I still
think it’s coming more directly from the ship, though,” said Artemius. “I
am certain of it.”
“Perhaps
we are feeling two different disturbances. I am more closely in tune with
a homeworld than you are, Master. I know what it’s like to have your home
ravaged by the scum of the universe who think nothing of people’s
lives.”
“You may
be right, Ilyssis. But I don’t see why we would feel two separate
things,” stated Dominic. “I am feeling the end of a good person. The end
of a lively warrior. I see the body of a lifeless Jedi, with the dark
shadow of Militiades hovering over him.”
Pico
looked at his master and gave a small smile. “Must be bad reception. I’m
not getting anything like that,” he said. “I see thousands of good,
honest people who are burdened to perpetual hand-operated labor and have
no way out. Living their entire lives of doing the same thing every
day.”
“You are
both right,” a voice said from nowhere.
Artemius
stood up curiously, as the echoed voice kept ringing through his ears.
“Master?” he questioned.
Pico
looked confused. “Huh? What are you talking about?” On that small cue,
the spirit of an old man dressed in a Jedi’s cloak materialized in the
centre of the room. It took only seconds for Pico to realize that this
was the man who trained Dominic.
“Master
Mikla, I didn’t realize that you had passed away,” said Artemius. For the
first time Pico had ever seen, Dominic appeared to be a learner.
“I am
coming to you now to warn both of you of something only a dead man can
see. Ilyssis Pico?”
“Yes,
sir,” Pico said, standing tall in front of the spirit.
“I am
proud to see that you are the spawning of the talent that has been
bestowed upon your master. Dominic Artemius is loyal, and I hope you will
be, too. For you face a danger greater than you have seen in your brief
lifetime in this universe.” Pico nodded.
“What is
this danger you speak of, Master?” Dominic asked.
“Both of
you felt different perplexities in the Force, correct? One came from the
ship, the other came from the world of Alzoc III. A great dark power has
ravaged the life of a once powerful Jedi Knight. And on the planet,
another dark power is bolstering an army of innocent slaves to do work
that is not beneficial to anyone. They need your help, Ilyssis.”
“What
about me, Master?” said Artemius.
“You,
Dominic, will do your best to save the life of the Jedi who is under
attack as we speak. He will be calling to you in short time. Asking for
help,” the spirit told him. “Offer your skill to those who need it. Help
them.” The spirit precipitously faded from the room.
“You never
told me about your trainer, Dominic,” Pico said. Artemius sat down
thinking.
“No time
for stories, Ilyssis. We have a job to do and we have to act quickly. I
will arrange two separate shuttles. One for the planet, and one for the
House of Lords.”
Pico
frowned for a moment with a sad thought. “What will become of me if you
do not survive, Master?”
“What will
become of you?” Dominic repeated and he walked right up to Pico. “You
will become the greatest Jedi to ever enforce justice in the galaxy.”
Pico nodded quickly and agreed that his master was being optimistic about
things. Therefore, so would he.
* * * *
Artemius’
shuttle left the hangar bay and approached the House of Lords. He
had picked a stolen Imperial shuttle, so not too much suspicion would
come about until he physically revealed his true self to the escorts who
would pick him up at the Star Destroyer’s hangar.
It was
within tractor beam range and Dominic put it on a timed auto-pilot
control. Moving back towards the exit ramp of the shuttle and took his
cloak from the rack he had slung it over. He put it on very neatly for a
situation like this, and tied it firmly at the back of his waist.
He felt
the tractor beam pull him into a hangar and the oxygen level outside the
shuttle increased dramatically as it pulled through the air-locked field.
The shuttle touched down and various Imperial Flight Officers and a set
of stormtroopers were waiting to meet with the life aboard the ship. The
exit ramp began it’s descent downwards. Artemius tossed a smoke mine and
let it explode into non-lethal fog.
He could
hear some talk from the outside of the shuttle about the possible reasons
for the smoke. Mechanical malfunction, perhaps. Artemius held his
lightsabre hilt firmly in hand. Two groups of three flight officers
formed a line and started up the ramp. The Jedi Knight could hear beeps
coming from life-detection scanners they carried with them, although only
their silhouettes were visible through the smoke. “There’s a life-form
nearby,” said one of the officers. That was his cue.
Artemius
ignited his lightsabre and charged through the smoke, spinning his energy
beam at expeditious speeds, cutting the six men cleanly in half. The
screams of the flight officers triggered the rest of the ship’s meeting
party to begin to open fire on the Jedi. The first of the shots came at
Dominic’s back, and he immediately thrust the blade of his weapon over
his shoulders and deflected the shot into the ship. Artemius let the
Force control him for only a brief second as all the lethal party could
see was his body bolting past them at speeds that no regular human could
achieve.
In that
instance, Artemius was no longer visible. He had hidden himself in a
ventilation shaft in one of the ship’s corridors. Watching officers and
various shock troops go by, Dominic knew that he couldn’t waste much more
time. He could almost feel the Jedi suffering already. Quietly, Artemius
opened the shaft and crawled out. The group of stormtroopers that passed
by were eight metres in front of him now, and he had to get by them.
He started
running towards them, springing off of his hands, he dove over the top of
the squadron and thrust his hand forward at the armed stormtroopers. The
entire squadron flew back a metre and fell to the ground, giving Artemius
just enough time to get past them and towards the involuntary tractor
beam capture operation. He stopped at a corner, peeking around it to see
a large team of stormtroopers gathered in a lineup to get to the ship of
the Jedi.
Now he
could only wait for the lineup to get shorter. Then he would make his
move.
* * * *
Pico’s
shuttle touched down on the landing platform at Alzoc III. He could see
clearly that there were several Imperial troops waiting for him to come
out. If he didn’t they would get suspicious. Pico ascribed several lies
into the ship’s log, such as an ejection of an escape pod because of
emergency. It would give them the impression that no one was supposed to
be on board. Or so he hoped.
Pico
opened the bottom exit ramp and opened the top hatch from inside the
cockpit at the same time. Just as the outdoors was becoming visible
through the ramp, he jumped up through the top hatch and stayed lying on
his stomach, watching for an inconspicuous place to get off the top of
this shuttle.
He rolled
over to the portion of the structure where the wings closed up to the
hull and put one of his feet against the wing and the other against the
fuselage of the ship. Quietly sliding his way down, Pico heard voices
coming around as he neared the bottom. There was no place to hide. Two
officers came around to the back and as soon as they saw Pico, they
reached for their blasters. Pico thrusted his hand out forward and the
men’s weapons flew out of the holsters and under the wing of the ship.
Just as they were about to call for help, they were already clutching
their throats in agony. Neither of them could breathe and Pico didn’t
want to kill them, but there weren’t many options.
As the two
men lifelessly dropped to the floor, Pico mouthed an ‘I’m sorry’ and
quickly strafed to his left and leapt off of the landing platform. He
landed on a crusty mud ground that crackled as his feet touched down upon
it. A dirt trail seemed to be made from the platform to a fenced out
area. There were little or no trees in the dry land that separated the
platform from the fenced area. Pico realized that his brown overcloak was
too dark to go crawling through the dried mud field unnoticed; but, the
outfit underneath had the perfect tone for it. He removed the cloak and
dove straight into the dried mud, hoping that the officers that were
inspecting the ship wouldn’t have noticed the dive.
Pico began
sliding forward, hearing a small scrape from the ground. He had forgotten
that his lightsabre was still attached to the belt. He had finally put a
scratch on it. But that was the least of his worries now. He kept sliding
forward with his dark hair hidden behind his arms until he reached the
fence. Checking the color of the fence, Pico realized that if he stood
up, he would stand out like a bright star in the night sky. Peaking out
from under his arms, Pico checked the color of the wood that made the
three-metre high fence and then looked back at his cloak which he left
below the landing platform. It was a match.
Pico
closed his eyes and focused on the cloak. He kept concentrating on it and
then made his action. The cloth moved rapidly across the barren field and
blanketed Pico as he lay under the sun. Pico spread the cloak over him
with the Force and stood up, making sure that he was entirely covered and
the cloak would match the fence color. He finally reached the part of the
fence where it turned the corner. Pico turned around and let his arms
rest from holding the cloak so high for so long. The landing platform was
now out of his line of sight. Now he had to get into the camp. The fence
was built up of many logs that were sharpened at the top of the
three-metre fence. Before making an effort to get in, he needed to know
who he would be disturbing if he cut through with his lightsabre. He
wouldn’t want to trigger any screams that would blow his cover.
As best he
could, he tried concealing the noise of igniting his lightsabre and
slowly stabbed the blade into one of the logs. It produced a hole that
Pico could safely look through. Through it, he saw only a small enclosed
room, layered on the bottom with hay and a rake that stood up against the
fence wall. The room had a weak straw roof that just barely provided some
shade. All of the walls were made of the same logs used to build the
fence, so the door appeared very heavy and very tall.
The
creaking of the door took Pico by surprise for just a moment, but then
realized that doors were made to be opened. The heavy wooden door swung
open and he heard a hard smack and a voice say, “You’ve got ten hours in
there, get to work!” From the small opening in the door, a girl of about
sixteen was thrown into the room, crying as a steady stream of blood
trickled from her mouth. Whoever was yelling at her had obviously hit her
across the face, thus causing the injury. Pico didn’t like seeing this
and he felt the disturbance he had felt on the Engraver in larger
quantities now.
The girl
cried furthermore as she stood up and grabbed the rake from the wall.
Pico watched as she mindlessly began to rake the hay on the ground back
and forth. She had to do this for ten hours. It saddened Pico to see a
valuable human life wasted on work that didn’t do any good for anyone at
all.
* * * *
The
blaster fire stopped and Kyle withdrew his sabre, but kept it in hand
just in case. The smoke began to clear from the doorway and a figure
consumed whatever might’ve interested him behind the door. A cloaked
figure of a smaller build than Kyle’s. The black outfit he wore sparkled
under the fluorescent lighting of the ship’s corridor. The figure came
towards Kyle, emerging from the nebulous smoke in the doorway.
Kyle drew
up his lightsabre once more and continued slowly moved until his back
touched the wall that ended the corridor. Looking to his left, Jan Ors
stood surprised to see Kyle frightened like this. Katarn fought off the
fear and assumed a fighting position with his lightsabre.
The figure
raised his hands out in front of him and smiled, revealing a set of teeth
that seemed too perfect to be real. From out his fingertips flew blue and
white bolts of electricity, corrupting Katarn with an indescribable pain.
Kyle let out a scream and dropped his lightsabre as the Force lightning
sucked the energy from his body.
Jan
covered her mouth in awe and could do nothing but watch as the blue bolts
of lightning slowly ate away his life. She nearly fainted.
Hidden in
a closet down to the left end of the hallway was Antioch Katarn, who kept
silent and didn’t let one of his tears touch the ground beneath him. He
caught every one. He tried to be brave and did well at it, but his
father’s screams of pain were too much for him to be completely blank
with emotion.
But then
the screaming stopped. All was quiet but the cries of Jan Ors as she
stared at the body of her lifeless husband. She dropped to her knees and
took one last look at Militiades before she drew her blaster from her
left hip. She held the gun high and managed to shoot accurately at the
very simple target through the blur of her tears. Without the slightest
bit of reluctant sadness, Jan Ors sent the blaster bolt into the side of
her head and collapsed on the floor.
Militiades
smiled and signaled for Admiral Viin to enter the ship. The officer came
to meet up with the Supreme Prophet of the Dark Side and looked at the
fried corpse of Kyle Katarn and his wife. “There is a boy in the closet
to my left. Retrieve him for me,” said Militiades.
“Yes, my
lord,” Viin replied. Opening the closet door, Viin felt rather merciless
as he looked down at the five year-old child who had tears running down
his cheeks. For the good of the child, Viin took a small towel from the
closet and wrapped it around the boys head, blocking his vision. Looking
upon the bodies of his own parents could be devastating for even a boy of
such a young age, Viin had thought.
Militiades
was waiting for him at the exit shaft of Katarn’s ship. “Admiral Viin, I
want you to stay here with this ship and pick up any valuable resources.
Later on, take that boy down to the dark Jedi’s prison camp on Alzoc III.
Destroy all records of Antioch Katarn and replace them with a new surname
of your choice. His background will be an orphan whom was rescued by dark
Jedi Knight, Bin-Sho Rfflasaan and lived with him as a dark apprentice on
the prison camp of Alzoc III. Make his birthdate five years before today
and no other specific background information. We are creating a new
citizen, Admiral. Don’t mess it up.” Militiades left Katarn’s ship with
that last comment and the officer sighed.
It was the
biggest assignment that Viin had ever been given but still sounded easier
than it was. He carried the boy back to the closet and placed him in,
removing the blindfold. “Wait here, young one. Don’t come out,” he told
the boy, “don’t come out.”
* * * *
Artemius
heard the footsteps of stormtroopers leaving the area and they slowly
faded out of hearing range. He peaked around the corner once more and the
shadow of Militiades appeared on the floor near the tractor beam’s
entrance shaft. Hiding was pointless now. He knew that the Prophet would
be able to feel his presence almost immediately. It was too late to save
the Jedi, but it was also too late to run away.
Artemius
rolled into the corridor and immediately into a stable stance as he drew
his lightsabre once more. Militiades calmly turned to face him. “Trying
to save someone’s life unsuccessfully are we?” he said tauntingly.
Artemius gave no response. “That’s very naughty, Jedi. Very naughty.”
Militiades thrust both of his hands forward, blasting the Force at
Artemius who was barely affected as his body rocked backwards and resumed
position. Militiades smiled. “Ah, you are strong, Jedi. Now, I like
variety, but it seems that I’m going to have to murder two of you with
the same monotonous method in the same day. I’m sorry if it doesn’t
appeal to a more creative way that you may have wished to die.”
Artemius
knew what was going to happen. Militiades raised his hands and brought
about the corrupted technique of Force lightning. Artemius crouched low
and just had enough time to throw his lightsabre horizontally and guide
the blade with the Force. It span wildly as it came closer and closer to
the Prophet’s feet. The first set of electricity bolts met with Artemius’
chest. But they went as fast as they came when Dominic’s green energy
blade swiped cleanly through Militiades’ ankles.
The
Prophet let out a scream of agony as Artemius called his sabre back to
him and began running for the hangar. Militiades began to hover with the
Force and followed after him, delivering stray bolts of lightning from
his fingertips. But he was not fast enough. Artemius had made it into the
hangar where TIE Fighters were kept. At the beginning of the huge hangar,
there were helmets and suits made for the pilots. Quickly, Artemius put
one on and ran up into the cockpit of a TIE. Fortunately no one noticed,
but he took off and no tractor beam held the ship in. He was free.
* * * *
Pico
didn’t know what to do. He knew what he could do. He could just stand
there and watch the girl for hours if he had it the way he wanted it, but
he had to do something more and she was not his main priority. He looked
in the hole once more and the girl wasn’t as sad since her injury, but
she was still raking the dry straw with a glum look on her face.
He stood
just centimetres to the side of the hole, with his back leaned up against
the fence and called out a favorable greeting. “Hello? Can you hear me in
there?”
The girl
in the small cell stopped raking for a moment and looked around,
wondering where the voice had come from. “Hello,” she responded. “Where
are you?”
Now that
he had gotten her attention, Pico was stuck for things to say. “Look to
your left and you will see a small hole drilled through the fence post.”
It sounded strange to the girl, but she looked and indeed saw the hole.
“Okay,”
she said. “What about it?” Her voice sounded confused in tone, but
strangely soothing. “But before I tell you anything, I want to know where
you are.”
“I’m on
the other side of the wall,” said Pico. “Now, is there any cameras or
guards or anything like that observing you right now?” he asked.
The girl
was sort of reluctant to talk to a person she could barely see any of,
but she obliged. “No. They stuck me in here for ten hours and check up
every two hours to make sure I’m raking straw!”
“Okay,
good. Now I want you to take that rake you have and put the knobbed end
through the hole in the wall,” said Pico.
“Why?”
“You’ll
see.”
The girl
shrugged it off and picked up the rake. Holding it backwards she pressed
it through the hole to the other side. She was rather enjoying this
conversation. It was more exciting than anything she’d done in the three
years she’d been a slave.
Pico
grabbed the rake and pulled hard against the wall, breaking off the logs
at the weakened points, creating a hole about a metre tall and a metre
wide. The girl on the other side smiled for the first time that Pico had
seen. She looked even better when she smiled, Pico had thought.
“You’re
here to free me?” she questioned excitedly as she began to climb out the
hole.
“No, no,
no. Stay in there,” said Pico. “The guards at the landing platform would
catch you and throw you right back in and my whole objective for being
here would be ruined.”
“Then what
are you here for?” said the girl, as Pico climbed into the small cell
with her. The hay was softer on the feet than the dried mud outside the
camp.
“I’m here
to free all of you,” he said.
Abruptly,
the girl started shaking her head. “Nope. Not gonna happen! Four dozen
Rebel officers from the New Republic tried that a couple of years back.
They were all killed by Rfflasaan.”
“Rfflasaan?”
“He’s the
dark Jedi Knight that runs this camp,” the girl told him. “Everyone who
has ever tried to rebel against him has failed and died. He’s too
dangerous for anyone. You’d have to be a Jedi Knight yourself to even
stand a chance against him.”
Pico
thought that over for a brief moment and then decided to comment. “Well,
I’ll give it a try.”
“That’s
called suicide,” the girl said. “By the way what’s your name? That way
I’ll at least know who the dead guy I’m talking to is.”
“My name
is Ilyssis Pico. I volunteered on instinct to come here and free all
those burdened by this camp,” he said. “And who might you be?”
“Hana
Chiss, pleased to meet you,” she said, smiling. Her moods seemed to
fluctuate between optimism and pessimism. “That’s quite the outfit you’ve
got there, Pico. But I don’t think it’s blaster-proof.”
“You’re
right. So when do they come to check up on you again?”
“It’ll be
another ninety minutes,” she said. “What do we do until then?”
“Something
more exciting then raking hay.” She laughed softly and sat in the corner
opposite to Pico. For a longer time than he thought, Pico just stared at
her blankly. He hoped that she and the rest of the slaves here would
survive. It would be difficult to accept losses. Especially Hana.
* * * *
“Artemius
just boarded the Engraver, General,” said Commander William
Cygnus10. General Leonardo Sienar stood up on the main bridge and saw the
House of Lords getting closer. “We need to leave now, or we’ll all
be destroyed.”
Sienar was
stuck in a dilemma. A large crew of people were working in spacesuits on
the back of the cruiser to build the Modified Corvette that was to be
used as a Rebel Base for the fleet of 0027. The House of Lords now
recognized the Engraver as a danger and was moving closer and
closer, listing the cruiser as a potential target. He had to leave the
Corvette parts behind and escape or try to operate a full-scale assault
on the House of Lords. Each one was equally difficult, but in two
different ways.
“Face it,
General,” said Cygnus10. “The mobile Corvette base idea would not likely
succeed anyway. It’s too difficult of a project.” Sienar couldn’t help
but acknowledge that his idea probably wouldn’t work as well as he had
planned.
“Alright,
Commander,” said Sienar. “Let’s do it. Ditch the resources and mechanical
parts for the Corvette. We’re moving the Rebel Base project to Yavin
Eight and it will be mobile.”
Cygnus10
turned to an officer at his left. “Pull back the parts and be ready for
escape, Captain,” he told the officer. Footsteps came from behind
Sienar.
“Sir, Pico
hasn’t boarded yet. We can’t leave without him,” Dominic Artemius said.
“We have
no choice, Dominic,” replied Sienar. “We leave now, or we die later.”
Dominic knew that he couldn’t change the mind of General Sienar and he
hoped that Pico would understand the situation just by looking at what
craft remained. He left the room without saying another word.
Sienar was
now concerned with the approaching Super Star Destroyer. He looked down
at the officer at the control desk. “Corporal, start calculating
lightspeed.”
“For what
destination, sir?”
“Yavin
Eight.”
* * * *
Grand Moff
Cadime left the House of Lords on the flagship aptly denominated
the Stifler, to begin the continuation of Grand Admiral Terrell’s
unfinished colonization mission. The Dreadnaught cruiser entered
hyperspace for Dantooine, which would house the first Imperial ColoPlant.
The ColoPlant would represent true Imperial power and symbolize that they
had complete control over the planet it was placed upon. The buildings
would serve as a military resources development factory; building metal
alloys and shipyard material for Militiades to distribute among Imperial
starfleets.
One of the
flight officers operating on the hyperdrive administration team gave
Cadime the timing of the trip. “Sir, this trip in hyperspace will only
last three minutes. I would advise you to stay on deck for the trip.”
Three
minutes later the rocky white dimension of hyperspace transformed into
abnormally long starlines, and soon Dantooine was visible through the
thick windows of the Dreadnaught. It looked as though it was a cloudy
planet with many life forms. And it’s exterior appearance was quite
accurate.
Grand Moff
Cadime requested that transports be prepared for the strike forces that
would be landing. He left the deck to check on the team that would take
the planet’s lead government by force.
It was
only days later that the operation was successful and construction of the
ColoPlant began. The surrounding systems and planets suffered the same
fate as Dantooine and went under Imperial control, with an ugly, symbolic
ColoPlant built on every one of them. Grand Moff Cadime, in just three
weeks time, was already colonizing the galaxy at four times the rate
Grand Admiral Forde Terrell had been working.
Again, the
Empire was on the verge of success.
* * * *
“Start
pullin’ that rope, kid,” yelled one of the guards outside the wooden
raking cell. “You’re my property now.” Hana Chiss stood up.
“Sounds
like there’s a new recruit to pull some wire for days on end,” she said.
“It also sounds like that Gamorrean blockhead is coming back here.” Pico
stood up and huddled against the wall behind the door. Faint footsteps of
the guard could be heard crackling on the dry mud outside the cell.
“Remember,”
Pico whispered. Hana nodded and assumed an innocent position standing in
the hay. The door swung open, nearly crushing Pico. The fat Gamorrean
walked in, wielding a spear and not noticing Pico behind him.
“Sir, II
lost the rake when I punched that hole in the wall,” said Hana very
innocently and very sweet-like. The Gamorrean’s eye’s widened when he saw
the hole in the cell wall. They widened even further when Pico came out
from the corner, shut the door and kneed him in the stomach. Stealing his
spear, Pico held the guard at bay against the wall.
“Okay, now
I need to get out of this cell and to the main residence of that dark
Jedi you were talking about,” Pico said, thinking of a method to get out
without attracting too much attention.
“Well,
whatever you do,” said Hana, “you aren’t going to be able to do it
wearing that fancy outfit of yours.
The
Gamorrean decided to offer some helpful advice. “She’s right,” he said.
“My associates will put you up in a prong instantly if you are wearing
something as elegant and clean as that.” Pico looked down at the Jedi
undertunic outfit. It was very dusty from rolling in the hardened mud,
but I guess it would be considered clean around here. And it was a fairly
elegant uniform, but not the guard, nor Hana recognized it as a Jedi’s
outfit.
“Wait a
minute,” Hana said. “How come you want to help us?”
The
Gamorrean replied, “Trust me. You wouldn’t like working for Rfflasaan
either. When we signed on to this, we didn’t expect to be kept here on a
lifetime contract. Sure he pays us, but we can’t leave.”
“In that
case, hand me your bindings,” Pico asked. The guard reached to his thick
belt and unhooked the cuffs from where they had been and gave them to
Pico. “Now turn around.” The guard was obedient to anyone with a spear
that sharp. Pico tied the guard’s hands together and took his keys. “You
stay here.”
“And about
your apparel, Pico?” Hana reminded him.
Despair
overcame him for a moment. He hadn’t a clue what to do about that. He
could’ve worn the rest of the cloak but would probably look even more
suspicious. “I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t know.”
“You
shouldn’t have worn such fancy do-dads, Pico. If I weren’t around you
would’ve failed, right? Take this.” Hana removed the heavy cloth jacket
and a rugged sash from her back and handed them to Pico.
Again, he
found himself mindlessly staring at her once more. “Won’t you look
suspicious now then?” he said, referring to her sleeveless undershirt.
“I don’t
think so,” she said. “Sometimes when it’s hot out like it is today, some
of the humans here will take off the heavy jacket and spring for just the
loose top.”
“Loose?
You call that loose?” Pico replied with a smile.
She gave
him a crafty smirk. “I meant loose in the temperature sense, Pico.”
The two
walked out in the field of slavery and headed for Rfflasaan’s residence
at the centre of the fenced out area. Surrounding them were hundreds of
Talz, some breaking rocks with a hammer, and some hauling boulders from
basket to basket all around the compound. Fifty or so humans were visible
from where Pico could see. Most of them very young. Four year-olds were
trying to drag a chain link over his shoulder to put in a cheap wooden
basket. It made Pico feel bad just watching this. Thinking that the
galaxy had been somewhat peaceful since the end of the Galactic Civil War
was not accurate everywhere. Some places, such as this one, it was
apparent that the Empire had a great deal of control here.
The two
approached the small railed ramp that led up to Rfflasaan’s dwelling, but
were stopped by a tough-looking Gamorrean. “Halt!” he shouted. “What
right have you here?”
Just as
Hana was about to speak, Pico said, “we need to speak with Bin-Sho
Rfflasaan if you please. You will let us by, of course,” while waving his
hand back and forth. Hana thought that Pico had just ruined the whole
plan with tritely stating that they needed to get by. Miraculously, the
guard repeated the exact same thing back to Pico and let them by.
Hana led
the way up the ramp and opened the creaky door to the home. A lone Talz
slave stood in shackles, nervously shaking. “I said choke him, boy,” said
Rfflasaan, standing vertical to a boy of about five who was crying into
his hands. Most likely because he wasn’t too ambitious about killing
another living thing. Noticing Hana peaking through the door, he
acknowledged their presence. “Slaves! You shouldn’t be here. What is
wrong with you?! Get back to work!”
“But,
sir“Hana said, stepping right into the room.
“How dare
you enter my chamber like that?!” The Twi’lek stood from his chair,
pushed the sad young boy aside and stared Hana down with his red eyes.
“And you, boy! What do you want?!” He was looking at Pico, who just
walked in behind her. He grabbed Hana and threw her up against the wall,
pinning her shoulders so she couldn’t move. Hana was afraid. She had no
more ideas, and hoped that Pico did. Then she saw the last shred of hope
fade away as Pico ruined his cover and took off the heavy jacket. But he
smiled, and she couldn’t figure out why.
“Rfflasaan!”
he called out.
“What?!”
he replied, turning to see the revelation of Pico’s outfit. He was rather
confused and didn’t know what to think, but he took pressure off of
Hana’s shoulders, and she ran to hide behind Pico. “You! You’re aJedi!”
The Twi’lek drew his lightsabre and ignited the orange blade.
Pico got
incredible height and flipped over the dark Jedi, pulling the shaft from
his left hip and igniting it as well. He got a brief glimpse of Hana’s
face before having to defend himself. She was in shock. Pico smiled at
that but managed to easily ward off all the offensive strikes that
Rfflasaan was making. Pico used the weapon with but a mere one hand and
smoothly counter-attacked. Pico rolled over the carpet in the centre of
the room to get back on Hana’s side, protecting her from what this dark
Jedi could do.
He decided
to end this quickly. Pico knocked his opponent’s blade high and lightly
jogged through the open space, striking Rfflasaan along the ribcage with
little force. The small impact was only enough for the energy blade to
penetrate the Twi’lek’s skin about a five centimetres in. Rfflasaan
looked down at his wound and dropped the lightsabre. His dying body fell
to his knees and then onto his chest for his last breath of air.
Hana was
so excited as to what happened, she had to hold her breath to stop from
screaming. She jumped away from the wall and kissed Pico right then and
there. Hana pulled away and grabbed his hand. “Let’s free some
slaves!”
* * * *
The
workers would start building immediately at the crack of dawn. General
Sienar had scouted out a location in some mountains where the Rebel Base
0027 would be built. He held the blueprints in his hand and hoped that
the size of his crew would be able to build a stable structure in a few
days. Then they could work on the expansion and the mobility of the
base.
Sienar
stepped back up the exit ramp of his personal escort shuttle and went to
his private chamber where he would put together starship designs and the
like. Opening the door with the only copy of the key card in practice, he
sat down at his large desk and unfolded the blueprints. He dubbed it as
the ‘Sienar Fleet Systems Mobile Republican Fleet Grounds of System
0027.’ The name was a bit long and it would probably be changed. He had
already briefed the construction team and they were unloading parts from
the cruiser Engraver.
He laid
out the final diagram and floor plan of the base and overlooked it. The
structure was huge in comparison to most other mobile starships, be they
capital ships or just some of the large smuggling corporations. He
guessed that the structure was probably about four and a half miles long.
It was able to plant on land and into the atmosphere or even space. If
need be, they could always move off of Yavin Eight and escape to a safer
place. He was hoping that that would not be necessary, however.
This new
base would be complete, but now it was simply boring for everyone but the
construction crew of the 0027 fleet. It was slow, and Sienar couldn’t
observe anything that was happening yet, but could only stare at the
blueprints of his construction.
* * * *
Militiades
was offered a set of prosthetic feet, but took only a small metal cap
that attached to the stub of his leg. The missing feet added to his
intimidation, as his only method of transportation now would be to
levitate and float wherever he needed to go. The medics in the section of
the ship noticed how angry the Prophet was. His face had been red with
rage since his encounter with Dominic Artemius. It extended beyond just
the loss of his feet. He was tired of conflict and he wanted it to end.
Leaving
the medics room, he met up with some officers outside, awaiting his
arrival. One of the men, he did not recognize. “My lord, the Engraver
has left the system, the tracking scouts we sent to follow them have
not reported in and were believed to be destroyed,” said the officer.
Admiral
Viin approached the Prophet, “Sir, a shuttle voluntarily entered the
tractor beam and claims to know you in person, saying he has important
news.”
“What is
his name, Admiral?” Militiades said, staring up at him with his angry
facial expression.
“He claims
to be Reeo Kcranuvelle, my lord,” replied Viin. “He is a human with a
generally small build, not unlike your own.” The officers around Viin
half-expected the Prophet to take that as an insult, but he didn’t and
Viin survived. “…sir,” he added, just in case.
“Send him
to my chambers, Admiral,” said the Prophet. “And be quick about it. He is
a man who I have known since the beginning of my reign and before you
registered under my command. Don’t expect to know anything about him.”
Militiades left the small group of officers and floated out of the
corridor.
Reeo Kcranuvelle was someone he had not spoken to in quite some time.
They met at a small Imperial convention held on Ord Mantell after
Militiades took power and shared it with Grand Moff Cadime. Cadime’s
power was slowly getting less and less valid. Militiades was now taking
full control. His first coming to the Empire was partially due to Reeo.
The man was a Force-sensitive human who led the campaign to vote for
Militiades’ reign. Since then, he had disappeared to the Outer Rim and
worked on the outside as the Prophet’s main source of political rumor and
gossip. His skill was enough for a few small Force skills. One of which
was communicating with Militiades from afar. That way, Reeo could report
in to the Prophet without having to even register as a soldier in the
Galactic Empire. As Militiades could recall, Reeo did carry a lightsabre
somewhere on his multi-accessory utility belt, but rarely used it because
of his heavily limited talent with the weapon.
Militiades
preferred to float above the ground in his chamber, rather than sit down
and wait for Reeo’s approach. It wasn’t long before the large elevator
door slid open, and Reeo walked out of it, followed by two Imperial Royal
Guard escorts. “Alone please, gentlemen!” Militiades called to the
guards. He despised the Royal Guards. It was a last remnant that he had
forgotten to diminish of Emperor Palpatine’s power and had since not had
the time. “Reeo. I believe that it has been quite some time since we last
saw each other in person.”
The
dark-skinned man walked up to the Prophet’s platform and gave a short
bow. “Yes it has. Quite a few years as I recall. I appreciate that you
have taken me to be under your service without routine Imperial
registration.”
“It is
apparent to me that you would never want to be an officer of the military
like all of my other men. You are different, Reeo. That is why I have
picked you,” said Militiades. “But why is it that you have come to me
now?”
Reeo
smiled. “Even your incredible power cannot figure that one out,
Militiades.” It was the first time that someone had called him that in
some time as well.
“Do inform
me, Reeo.”
“Well you
see, I have a fairly large personal YT-1600 freighter of my own called
the Inviso I. However, I have nicknamed it the Spookship. It is
much more fitting. It is probably one of the smallest ships that is
fitted with a cloaking device. I have been watching this scenario of
yours since you first picked up that transport.”
“I see.
What have you observed?”
“For one
thing, I know that your scouts didn’t make it very far, so you therefore
have no clue where the Rebel cruiser went.” Militiades was starting to
get angry at the reminder. He wanted this war to be over. And wiping out
every shard of that pathetic Alliance is the only way to do it. He wanted
that ship, and could sense that Reeo was going to help him.
“What have
you?”
“Militiades,
I have a prophecy that I believe I can arrange. I have done some
inspection research of my own, and that cruiser belonged to the
inadequate, lacking fleet system of 0027 in the New Republic’s defense
assemblage,” replied Reeo. “What you need to do to destroy the fleet, is
to draw them out. Draw them into the open, having them expect something
small, while getting something devastatingly large.” Militiades was
intent on Reeo’s ideas. “All we know, is the direction they shot into
hyperspace. Now if we assemble a starmap, we can calculate all the
possible destinations that the jump could’ve taken the cruiser. The fleet
of 0027 is disorganized and has little defenses. What we do, is send
smaller squadrons of TIEs and maybe Star Destroyers to attack the
majority of the planets along the lines of the cruiser.”
“Where are
you going with this, Reeo?”
Reeo
swallowed. “We have to draw them out, sir. Whichever of the planets that
they are discovered to be upon, we can pick a nearby planet. Chances are
the fleet will be on a remote world to start re-building. We will take a
post-warp level technology world with ample communication outposts, and
invade it with a smaller fleet. That way, the planet will send out a
distress beacon. The nearest Rebel outpost will be on whatever planet
they are at and they will therefore, receive it first. The beacon will
report that the planet is being invaded by a small, but destructive
Imperial fleet. Then we move a huge fleet into the planet’s system and
destroy all communication outposts. This will draw a small force from
0027 to attack what they believe will be a small invasion fleet, but will
in fact be our large fleet.”
“You might
be right,” Militiades said with an agreeable nod and a crafty smile.
“Modify
the idea to your needs, Militiades, but I think it will work.”
“No
modifications will be necessary, Reeo. I’m already putting it into
action, Militiades said. “Reeo, I want you to go down to Alzoc III. I
sense a disturbance in the Force and it isn’t one I appreciate.”
* * * *
The
Imperial officers at the landing platform didn’t even notice the plethora
of slaves exiting the prison camp. Pico had carved an opening at the
other end of the camp’s wall and the slaves were sauntering out in single
file, looking for their old settlements and reclaiming their former
lives. Except Hana. Hana was still with Pico and didn’t seem to want to
leave the camp, and he wasn’t sure why. Observing the exiting slaves,
they both returned to the former residence of the Twi’lek dark Jedi.
“Take a
good look,” Pico said, pointing his hand and waving it around the home’s
interior. “It’s the last time you’ll be seeing this place. Provided we
can get off this planet alive.” Hana smiled at him until she heard a
faint noise. A noise coming from the back of the room. The boy!
Pico
had obviously heard it, too because he was already trying to detect the
sound. Hana found the boy first, hiding behind a table near the
three-person seat in the corner. “Oh, my goodness,” she said, lifting the
boy out from behind the seat. The boy was crying and was seemingly
hypnotized by the body of Rfflasaan, sprawled out on the floor he once
stood on. “Are you okay, little boy?”
“Who is
he?” Pico asked, knowing full well that Hana wouldn’t have the answer.
“I don’t
know,” she replied. “Who are you?” she asked, setting the boy down. He
was still looking at the body of Rfflasaan.
“Let’s
take him out of here. We have to get off this planet before those guards
at the landing platform realize what’s going on,” said Pico. A blast
shattered the window next to them in the room. “Too late.”
The sound
of footsteps running towards the house meant that they had to move fast.
“I’ll carry him, Ilyssis. You do your best to defend us.” Pico nodded and
kicked down the back door to the house. Four guards were running up the
steps, firing randomly into the house. Pico flipped and twisted down to
the bottom of the stairs, diverting the guards’ attention from the house.
He rolled over to the side of the stairs as the guards began to turn
around and pulled on the support on the bottom. The stairs collapsed and
the guards fell down, dazed and confused.
“Hurry!”
Pico shouted. Hana came running to the door and carried the boy over the
pile of distraught officers. “Run!” Pico pointed to an exit in the fence
at the back of the house. “Head for the landing platform, I’ll catch up!”
More guards circled to the back of the home and fired at Pico. Most of
the fire, Pico evaded and he hoped to not have to draw his lightsabre
again today. But he was left with no choice as the number of enemies
increased. He went to grab the hilt, but realized his mistake. Pico’s
lightsabre was sitting on the floor in Rfflasaan’s house. Oh no,
he thought. He put his hands up and waited for the blaster fire to desist
as the guards surrounded him.
* * * *
“Something
big’s coming in, General,” said Commander Cygnus10. “It’s coming from one
of Varl’s moons.” Sienar looked up at him from his desk.
“Varl?” he
said curiously. “That’s really strange, Commander. What is it?”
“Another
distress flare. Apparently, we’ve got a civilian death toll of nearly
54,000, General. We have to do something about this,” Cygnus10 said.
“William,
you have to realize something,” Sienar said, observing the blueprints in
front of him. “Our current establishment has been here on Yavin Eight for
four days! We don’t have the power to take on an Imperial fleet! Not at
all!”
“General,
the invasion fleet is very small. Maybe six or eight TIE Fighters and a
Corvette. Even we could take it out. Varl’s moonI believe it’s called
Junnhas little defense and usually relies on the defense of a fleet
called the Harris56, but they are unavailable for some unclear
reason.”
Sienar
thought for a moment. “Do we even have any fighters ready? In the event
that we do, I suppose you are right that even a small Imperial fleet like
that could easily be taken out by our fighters.”
“I will
happily take my own squadron into battle. I will arm my X-Wing with a
heavy space bomb to quickly destroy the Corvette. The TIEs will be of no
trouble for my wingmen.”
“Very
well, Commander,” Sienar said. “But I can’t just have your group out
there. I want all the fighters we have in practice. We’ve not got much to
lose as it is.”
“You don’t
mean the entire fleet, do you, General?”
Sienar
laughed. “Certainly not, Commander. If we packed up all the resources
we’ve got and sent them into battle, we might end up with more loss than
we originally thought.” Sienar moved to quieter tone of voice. “Listen,
William. If the attack force of the Empire is bigger than the beacon
tells us, pull back right away. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”
In short
time, an assemblage of thirty of 0027’s remaining fighters was rapidly
pulling for a short hyperspace jump to Varl’s moon. Cygnus10’s voice
crackled through the intercom of the fighters. “Alright, pull out of
hyperspace…now!” All the pilots abruptly pulled the levers backwards and
the sky around them turned quickly into starlines. Then Cygnus10 was
scared. Scared at what he saw. He had never been this scared in a cockpit
before. His usual confidence was diminished in seconds. “Retreat!!”
The
starfighter pilots heard the scream of evacuation order, but they new it
was impossible. A Super Star Destroyer above the moon commanded eight
Interdictor-class Star Destroyers and ten other Victory-class Star
Destroyers. All of the capital ships were spewing literally hundreds of
TIE Fighters at the approaching Rebel fleet. Green laser blasts came
sailing towards the Rebel fleet. “Commander! We will not survive this,”
said A-Wing leader Lilan Iniz. “My group and I are going in full
headstrong on that SSD! Our ships will be our warheads!”
“Commander,
no!” said Cygnus10, hoping for the lives of his pilots. “Retreat,
Commander Iniz! Retreat!” But they were already gone. Cygnus10’s orders
weren’t valid and even his own wingmen were starting to drop like flies.
He went on full evasion and started to barrel roll at full throttle,
ducking a good distance underneath one of the Victory Star Destroyers,
evading it’s powerful turbolaser turrets. “Is anyone still with me?” he
said through his helmet’s headset.
“Only me,
sir,” a ruffled voice came through the headset.
“Who are
you?!” Cygnus replied, not recognizing the voice, and rapidly checking
his scanners for what ship it was.
“B-Wing
pilot, Flight Cadet Jacky Nime, Commander,” said the pilot, evading
turret blasts as he spoke.
“Well,
Jacky. If you could keep up with what I just pulled, I don’t see why
you’re on the bottom of the military ranking food chain,” Cygnus10 said,
speeding up even further to 115% throttle. Nime kept up.
“Admiral
Torgon doesn’t believe that someone as young as I should be more than a
Flight Cadet, Commander,” Nime replied. It disappointed Cygnus10 that
Torgon would think that way, but it was believable; he was
skeptical.
“Not
enough time for talk now, Nime. I’ll get you up in the ranks later. Now
we have to get into the central gully of that Super Star Destroyer.
Follow me if you can. The gully has no turrets and is entirely ray
shielded. It leads right to the main port of the bridge and we should be
able to knock it out with the space bomb I’ve got equipped. Once we get
in there, turn off most of your deflectors and delve into about
170% throttle. We’re going in really fast.”
The two
X-Wing pilots pulled back on the control stick and dove down into the
trench etched into the centre of the Super Star Destroyer. Both of their
speeds increased to 170% and they somehow managed to equivocate the bumps
of the gully. Cygnus10 had never experienced this kind of speed before.
The five-mile long capital ship was coming to an end very quickly and he
armed his warhead. “Commander, it’s getting too fast!” Nime shouted. I
can’t hold up. The gully is too sho“ He was cut off by the explosion of
his ship, crashing into an outlying Doonium outgrowth of the Star
Destroyer.
The bridge
came into the crosshair of Cygnus10’s ship, and he launched the space
bomb and was forced to pull the ejection lever and watch his ship run
into the bottom of the main port. The space bomb was shot by a turret and
didn’t make it to take out the Star Destroyer. The explosion would’ve
killed Cygnus10 anyway, and now, he was going to be a prisoner. Or maybe
he would just be dead. At this point in time, there wasn’t much of a
difference.
* * * *
Reeo
Kcranuvelle dressed in one of the slain guards’ outfits and hooked his
utility belt around the red vest. Fortunately, he was wearing one of the
combat outfits made for humans and not the fat Gamorreans that also
guarded alongside Bin-Sho Rfflasaan’s small army at the prison camp.
“Come with me, your other guards have him surrounded. There will be no
escape for him once we are there as well.”
“Why
should we listen to you?” said one of the guards, who was finally
standing up against Reeo’s somewhat commanding presence.
Reeo
didn’t like the sound of that. He pulled the lightsabre from his belt for
the first time in years and turned it on, pointing the glowing blade at
the officer who made the remark. “Because I’m a Jedi and you won’t last
two seconds against him without my help!” Reeo knew that he was lying. He
wasn’t a Jedi, but the lightsabre seemed to convince the rest of the
guards. They shrugged it off and followed Reeo around to the back of
Rfflasaan’s home.
If he
listened carefully, he could hear the sounds of screaming from the back.
He was afraid to go in there. Instead he disappeared in the attacking
guards and waited at the path, staring back at the shuttle that brought
this enemy here.
* * * *
The wooden
rod broke hard over Pico’s back as one of the guards knocked him to the
ground with it. It hurt him, but he stood right back up again, facing the
ten blaster points nearing his face. He looked back into the open door of
Rfflasaan’s residence and tried to remember where his lightsabre was. He
closed his eyes and tried to look into the room. Since his Force
training, he found it easier to see things with his eyes closed. He saw
where the table that they found the boy was. He saw the body of Bin-Sho
Rfflasaan spread on the floor, and there it was. His lightsabre sat close
to the one that Rfflasaan had dropped, and Pico pondered which one would
be easier to call to him.
Pico
ducked just before another swing of the rod was taken at his back and he
called for the sabre. He wasn’t sure which until he saw both of the hilts
come floating quickly out of the house and towards his hand. He grabbed
his own and let Rfflasaan’s fall as the guards started to open fire. He
back-flipped out of the circle and was no longer surrounded but
frantically deflecting stray blaster shots.
A guard
that was seemingly smarter than the rest grabbed Rfflasaan’s lightsabre
and ignited it, charging towards Pico. Pico batted a blaster bolt out of
the way of his chest and saw the guard with the lightsabre coming to his
side out of the corner of his eye. Another shot came at his left. Pico
turned and flawlessly deflected the shot at the guard with the
lightsabre. It exploded on his chest and Pico kicked the hilt out of his
hand before his body hit the stale ground. He caught the lightsabre in
his free hand and crossed the two blades in front of him as he
side-stepped away from the blaster fire. All the guards started running
towards him as he neared the door that would be able to free him.
Holding
the two lightsabres, Pico was able to ward off most of the guards and
dispatch of them using their own shots. He kicked open the door behind
him and struck backwards letting the blades of the two lightsabre split
the wooden logs of the camp’s fence down the middle. A series of about
seven logs that he cut came crashing down, blocking the escape route he
took, buying him some time to rendezvous with Hana and the boy.
He
sprinted out to the landing platform where Hana and the boy were hiding
underneath it. The guards would be returning to the platform shortly, so
they would have to board the shuttle quickly and get off the planet.
“Hana, take the boy on board and strap yourselves in,” Pico told them.
Hana obeyed him respectfully and ran up the ramp and onto the shuttle.
Pico followed them, watching the approaching guards draw their blasters
once more. Shots came at the shuttle’s exterior and Pico ignited
Rfflasaan’s lightsabre which he had been unknowingly holding the whole
time. His own was still slung from his belt. He threw a few of their own
shots back at them, but then ran up the ramp and quickly into the
cockpit, tossing the lightsabre outside.
One of the
guards, who was faster than the others jumped onto the ramp as it closed,
hoping no one on board would see him. And no one did. He hid in the
shadows as the shuttle blasted off of Alzoc III, in search of the fleet
of 0027.
* * * *
Two pilots
came back.
Two out of
the thirty-five that were sent. Production would continue, but a small
grieving period was held for everyone who didn’t come back. Any ejection
pods were captured or destroyed, including that of William Cygnus10.
Sienar was led to believe that Cygnus10 ejected. It was exactly what a
pilot of his caliber would do in a situation like that. He hoped greatly
that Cygnus10 was captured and not killed. It was also possible that both
were true. The House of Lords showed little mercy when it came to
things like that.
Sienar
came out of the parked starship and looked at his construction that was
taking place. A lot of progress had been made since the two pilots
returned. They had a small wire skeleton and a foundation of the mobile
base made.
Workers
had blow torches and hydrospanners working fast. Tools of every kind, but
it meant nothing to Sienar now. He was still thinking about how horrible
it must have been to come out of hyperspace in a crossfire of two hundred
TIEs. It was unbearable to go in expecting eight enemy fighters, and
getting more than twenty times that amount. He was lucky for even two
ships to return. They must have escaped early.
Sienar
thought he would fail. For the first time since his admittance into the
Republic’s military, he thought he would fail. This base would be
destroyed, and 0027 would be no more. That is what he expected to come
out of this destructive skirmish. He wanted the Empire to end, but he
didn’t even have enough power as a General to order an attack on large
Imperial outposts and SSD’s. He didn’t have the authority.
He needed
more power. His command was dying and all he wanted was more power to
feed his avarice.
* * * *
It was no
challenge at all. The small rebel force was all destroyed. Militiades saw
it all from his chamber. He even saw the Lambda-class shuttles
pick up the only ejection pod. They were interrogating the pilot now. But
Militiades had a new plan to devastate 0027 even further. Grand Moff
Cadime was awaiting his idea on the bridge, but the Prophet hadn’t
arrived yet.
The door
to the bridge slid open and Militiades floated through the door up to
Cadime. Since he lost the use of his feet, he was even further
intimidating because he didn’t remove the hood from his cloak at all
anymore.
“My lord,
the remnants of the fleet are defenseless on Yavin Eight,” Cadime said.
“Shall we move in now? It would end them simply and easily.”
“No, Grand
Moff Cadime. I wish for them to suffer a bigger loss than that. The fleet
in particular will have to realize what they’ve lost and then die for it.
Right now, they have nothing to lose. Send a scout ship to hang around
and spy on them for a few months. Once they have established a safe and
stable base with plentiful resources, we will hit them hard and
fast.”
Cadime
even thought that it was a very arrogant and dishonorable way to knock
out a fleet. But the recent events placed Militiades at a higher rank
than Cadime and he would issue the assault. An assault that would kill
them with merely the flick of a switch.
Just as
Cadime went to call the order, Militiades realized what little progress
it would make. He needed to end the conflict now. He called back on Grand
Moff Cadime. “No, Cadime, wait! Call that off. Cancel the action!” He
then thought of a new idea. An honorable one. He was tired of battles
anyway.
* * * *
“I have a
bad feeling about this,” Pico said, leaving the cockpit on auto-pilot
with no destination in particular. Hana was covering the boy with a
blanket in a chair at the back of the shuttle. “I don’t know where the
fleet is and I have nowhere to go. If we run into some Imperial fleet we
won’t be able to defend against it.”
Hana stood
up to face him. “Why does that give you such a bad feeling? We can always
go back to my home planet. There’s a lot of room where I live and I’m
sure my mother would graciously offer shelter to you. You freed me,
remember?” The boy was staring blankly at Pico’s lightsabre, likely
remembering what it had done to Bin-Sho Rfflasaan. Pico hoped that he
wasn’t a friend of Rfflasaan, otherwise he could’ve damaged the boy’s
childhood by even witnessing that.
“My bad
feeling isn’t about a lack of destination. It’s something closer,” Pico
replied. He looked back at the boy, who was still looking back at the
lightsabre slung from Pico’s belt. Maybe it was something in the
boy.
“That’s
shiny.” For the first time since they met, the boy spoke. He continued
looking at the lightsabre hilt. Both Hana and Pico were a little shocked
that he began talking all of a sudden. Pico moved over to the boy and sat
in the chair beside him.
“What’s
your name?” Pico asked. He wondered if the boy had a familiar name and
would be able to be identified to some contacts at a civilized system.
“Who are your parents?” A tear was already starting to flow down the
boy’s cheek. Perhaps that was the wrong question to ask.
“My
parents are dead. They died this morning. They were murdered,” the boy
said. “And my name is Antioch.” Pico glanced over at Hana who looked
worried.
“Do you
have a last name?”
“Yes.”
“What is
it?”
“II don’t
want to tell. You might be bad, too.”
“We aren’t
bad, Antioch. I just want to know who you are.”
The boy
sat their nervously and thoughtfully. He looked away from Pico for a
while before he came up with something to say. “Fi,” he said. “Antioch
Fi. That’s my name.” Hana didn’t notice, but Pico knew the boy was lying
about his surname. He could see that he wouldn’t get anymore out of him.
Pico didn’t think that he would ever find out who he truly was.
“Antioch
Fi,” said Pico. He turned to Hana and whispered, “I’m going to look him
up, Hana. There’s something about this boy that I’m not sure is right.”
Pico moved back into the cockpit and checked records while Hana kept the
boy company.
“Where are
you from, Antioch?” Hana asked.
“I don’t
know. I lived on a ship all the time,” he replied. Hana nodded, knowing
that Antioch couldn’t provide her with anymore information than he did
Pico. The boy turned his head very suddenly towards the exit of the ship,
as if he had heard a noise.
“What’s
wrong?”
Antioch
gave no reply, but continued to squint into the dark corridor. “I don’t
know,” he said vacantly, staring down the hall towards the exit ramp.
Pico opened the thin door and came back into the room.
“Records
don’t say much. They tell me just about as much as we could’ve figured
out today. There are only about four hundred Antioch’s in the entire
galaxy. But he’s the only ‘Fi’. It says that he’s five years old and was
an orphan until rescued by dark Jedi Bin-Sho Rfflasaan. He was
Rfflasaan’s dark apprentice until today,” Pico said.
“Dark
apprentice?” Hana said. Antioch looked as shocked as she did. “This boy’s
a Jedi potential.”
“That’s
what the records say. But the Empire has been known to alter data.”
Antioch turned his head down to the exit ramp again, as if he heard the
noise again. Pico did the same, and Hana had no clue what was going on.
“Stay here,” Pico said, cautiously unhooking his lightsabre from his
belt. Pico pressed a button near the base of the handle and a small disk
closer to the bottom began to spin silently.
Against
Pico’s orders, Hana followed him a metre behind into the exit ramp area.
Antioch stood up as well and creeped behind her. Something was there, and
neither of them knew what.
* * * *
They were
coming and they would see him, but Reeo wasn’t sure what to do. He was
breathing hard and couldn’t think straight as the Jedi and his companions
came closer and closer to the exit ramp. Finally he quietly unhooked the
lightsabre from his belt and gripped it tightly. Only the silhouette of
the Jedi holding his sabre’s hilt was visible now. Finally he made his
move.
Quickly he
ignited his own blade and held it right above the Jedi’s neck. He had him
held at bay now. His blaster was in his other hand, almost poking at the
stomach of the Jedi. The girl behind him screamed and the little boy ran
off into another room. “Put down your sabre, Jedi,” he said powerfully.
“There is no escape.”
The Jedi
dropped his hilt onto the light metal ground beneath them. Reeo circled
around to pin the Jedi in the corner. “Tell me who you are, and whatever
problem you have we can work it out without taking any destructive
action,” the Jedi said. Reeo could barely speak.
“My name
isn’t important,” he said. “I was sent here to find you, I’m sure of it.”
That much was true. Militiades said to investigate a disturbance in the
Force. This Jedi was the only possible disturbance he could think of on
Alzoc III. But he didn’t know what to do with the Jedi, now that he held
him at bay.
The Jedi
continued to hold his hands high, occasionally looking at the shimmering
purple blade that grew nearer to his throat. “Because you are reluctant
to tell me your name, it tells me that you are hiding something. I am not
however. My name is Ilyssis Pico, and I am a Jedi Knight who is not here
to fight with you.” Reeo was almost breaking into a cold sweat. The boy
he saw earlier peeked around the corner of the wall he had escaped and
hidden behind.
“Okay,”
Reeo said. “My name is Reeo Kcranuvelle.” He couldn’t think of anything
that made his purpose here clear. As soon as the boy heard his name, he
disappeared around the corner again. The girl behind the Jedi followed
the boy. “II am a“
“Why are
you here?” Pico demanded. The Jedi was very commanding at that, and there
wasn’t much else that Reeo could do other than stall. Suddenly, the girl
and the young boy appeared around the corner again.
“He works
for the Empire in the Outer Rim!” the girl shouted. Reeo acted quickly,
firing at the girl, hitting her hand with a blaster bolt. She fell to the
ground screaming. Before he could make a move on the Jedi, he was already
disarmed and looking at the extended blue blade of Ilyssis Pico’s
lightsabre. It boggled his mind how the Jedi could’ve accomplished such a
feat in so few seconds.
“I’m not
going to kill you, Kcranuvelle,” said the Jedi, faint sounds of the girl
crying in the background. “I am merely escorting you to this shuttle’s
escape pods. You will get in one and jettison and you will not come
back. Is that understood, Reeo?!”
It wasn’t
long before his pod was ejected from the socket of the shuttle, heading
for the uncharted planet below.
* * * *
Pico ran
up to the main portion of the shuttle to meet up with Hana. “Are you
alright?!” he shouted to the wounded girl. She was still just laying
there crying. Pico knelt down and looked at the inside of her left
forearm. The singed skin from the blaster wound was bandaged up by
Antioch’s vest.
Pico
lifted her onto a cot in the utmost back of the shuttle. “Where are we
going?” asked Antioch, innocently. Hana looked up at the boy and then at
Pico.
“Anywhere,”
she said. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”
“Where is
there to go? I need to find the fleet that I came from, but I don’t know
where they are,” Pico replied.
“We can go
to my planet,” Hana said, anxious to leave this ship. “I haven’t been
there in years. My parents probably think I’m dead.” Pico looked down at
her curiously.
“Where are
you from, Hana?” he said. “I don’t know much about you.”
“I’m from
Habassa. If you take me there I’ll tell you all about my former life when
we arrive. It will be easier that way.” Pico nodded in agreement. One
planet was just as good as another in his mind.
He stepped
into the cockpit of the shuttle and set up the fundamentals for a
hyperspace jump to Habassa. The navigational computer flashed pictures of
the starmap laid out in holographic form, eventually finding Habassa.
Minutes later, the shuttle was ready for the jump and the stars overhead
turned into starlines as the ship disappeared into space.
By the
time they arrived at Habassa, Hana was feeling a lot better and Antioch
didn’t talk much since he asked of the ship’s destination. The shuttle
entered the planet’s atmosphere and Hana noticed that much rebuilding had
taken place since she had last been there.. “Where can we land, do you
know?” Pico asked her. Hana stood up looked at the data that was laid out
on the holographic geo-map.
“Hopefully
the place I’m thinking of is still running. According to this, it is, but
some records you just can’t trust,” she replied. “Do you see that big
hill over by that tall monument?” Pico nodded. “On the other side there
is a palace with a high landing platform. You can land there and someone
will meet with you; hopefully recognizing me.”
“A
palace?!” Pico said shockingly. “You live in a palace?!” Hana smiled at
her own error.
“Oops,”
she said. “I guess I could’ve told you that my name isn’t Hana Chiss.”
Pico was really confused now. She seemed abnormally happy about revealing
something like that. He hung his head then kept focus on the planet,
emerging from the hill and seeing the palace. “My real name is Hana
Logan. When I was twelve, my father placed me in the Habassian Council of
Monarchs. I was pretty important until I was banned against the will of
my father, and then the Empire dragged me away to work with the Talz as a
slave for the rest of my life. I’m the Sovereign Princess of the
Habassian High Council,” she said with a short smile.
Pico
looked back at her and gave a sarcastic remark: “Thanks for keeping it
from me. You’ve been a regal figure this whole time and never told me.
You weren’t trying to hide anything I hope.”
“Of course
not,” she said. “I told you now, didn’t I?”
“That’s
true,” Pico said. “So you don’t suppose that you’ll be banned again. How
did that all get started anyway?” Pico set the throttle low.
“Somehow,
Imperial scrutinizers broke into the council and started giving orders
that they had the fake authority to pass,” she said. “A lot of the
council members were thrown into prison camps like that one on Alzoc III.
I was alone in being sent there, though.” Pico abandoned the story and
touched down on the landing platform, hoping for the best out of the
people of Habassa.
* * * *
Hear
me, Master. Hark my thoughts. Help me. The thoughts ran over and over
in Reeo’s mind as the oxygen metre on the ejection pod was getting low.
No reply came from the calling to his master. The pod never touched the
planet below him and was hung in orbit around a mechanical
telecommunications satellite. He couldn’t get out. Reeo hoped that he
would not end up dying from lack of air. It wasn’t the way to go out for
him. It was all the fault of that Jedi, Pico. Looking back at what
happened, he should have shot Ilyssis Pico instead of the negligible
girl. He would still have them as pawns to his wishes. But he made a
mistake again. Every other mistake he had made, he had been able to
survive, but he wasn’t sure of this one.
He never
before had referred to Militiades as his master before. It
was more of a spur of the moment comment and he didn’t think about it
much. Nonetheless, it wasn’t long before a freighter came by and dropped
Reeo off at an X7 Factory Station. Militiades had heard his cry, and
again he escaped with his life.
* * * *
The
ceremony was a great deal larger than Ilyssis Pico had expected out of
Hana’s return. He had not heard the name Hana Logan before, nor had he
heard of a Logan Monarchy on Habassa. He wasn’t much in the outside
world, however, and his judgment wasn’t always accurate.
Row upon
row of people who appeared to be the officers of the sovereignty. He
hoped that after this ceremony, Hana would explain to him what this
palace was built for. It spread across a great distance into little
warehouses and what looked to be hangars of some sort.
Everyone
was focused on the crowned head of state who was giving a speech that
Pico wasn’t listening to. Applause was given and an older woman
approached the brass podium, staring out at the many attendants of the
auditorium. Hana stood beside the woman as she began her speech and Pico
did his best to stay off to the side of the rostrum.
“Good
Morning head officers of the Harris56,” she began. “We are all gathered
in this chamber today to welcome the return of Hana Logan, the sovereign
princess of our planet’s palisade. When the Empire dragged her away three
years ago, she was fourteen years old and very headstrong.” Many claps
and cheers followed Hana’s name being announced to the crowd. “As the
story goes, she was shipped to a planet called Alzoc III where an evil
Jedi Knight operated a slave camp. For the past three years, she has been
a slave doing pointless work for nothing.” Pico still cringed at even
watching that slave camp and the pathetic work they were forced to
accomplish. The woman continued, “It was not until roughly ten hours ago
that she was rescued by a brave Jedi Knight from the New Republic.” She
pointed her hand over at Pico who was surprised that he was even
mentioned in the speech, let alone praised. “Ilyssis, would you come up
here please?” the woman asked. Pico walked over the podium with a “who
me?” sort of look plastered on his face. She turned back to the crowd,
“This Jedi’s name is Ilyssis Pico. He is credited with invading that
prison camp on Alzoc and freeing a collaboration of hundreds of slaves on
the compound. Including Mistress Hana Logan.” The crowd cheered louder
than all the cheers that had been given out before. Pico couldn’t help
but smile as everyone cheered for him. The residents of the planet were
obviously partial to the Jedi Knights. Another man approached the podium
and spoke.
“I wish
that you stand before me, Ilyssis Pico, and bow your head to the podium,”
the man said. Pico assumed that the man was of some high rank in this
organization. Pico stood in front of the man and bowed his head, but he
wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t sure why until he felt a weight go around his
neck and saw a shiny medal dangling from his neck. “Jedi Knight, I
present you with the Habassian Bronze Medallion of Mortality.” The crowd
cheered once more and erupted into a widespread talk all around the
auditorium. Hana smiled as Pico turned to the crowd and bowed to his
applause.
The
ceremony continued into a complimentary brunch and a dinner gathering.
Pico knew he had to leave to find the fleet of 0027 in the morning. He
had left the busy dinner and was very tired from his numerous adventurous
quests of the past few days. The hallway he stood in was quiet and no one
was around until Hana emerged from the corner. “Are you alright?” she
said looking at Pico’s exhausted expression. He had knelt down supporting
his back against the wall.
“I’m fine,
just tired,” he replied.
“If you
want we can leave this party and go to sleep. I’ve been tired for a few
years, I wouldn’t mind getting a good night’s sleep myself.” Pico took up
her offer but then ran into a problem.
“You know,
I have to leave early tomorrow to start looking for the fleet. Do you
have a spare room that would wake me up early?” Hana smiled.
“Do you
mean something that shines the sunlight in early in the morning. Lots of
windows?”
“Would
that work?”
“Probably,”
Hana said. “I don’t think any of the spare guest rooms have any windows
at all. They’re all small and stuffy.” Pico looked disappointed. Hana
grabbed his hand and started dragging him further down the passage.
“C’mon,” she said, “you can sleep in my room.”
* * * *
“We are
done, General Sienar,” Cygnus10 said, coming out of the shuttle observing
the completed base. “Would you like to test its mobility?” Sienar smiled
excitedly. His construction was completed. He looked at the base which
spread very wide around the canyon. It looked blank, however, because no
one was in it.
“Close it
up, Commander,” Sienar replied with a smile. Cygnus10 signaled to an
officer inside the main port of the base. He waved back and looked down
at the set of controls in front of him. Abruptly, the shield covering
that blanketed the base disappeared and loud sounds came from the
mechanics in the bottom. The walls on the end folded inwards and the base
rolled into a rocket-shaped design. The repulsorlifts pulled off the
bottom of the planet’s earth and the engines were working.
Sienar was
proud of his design. Proud and ready to use it when in dire need. An
officer came running from one of the small tents that the remaining
soldiers had resided in for the past few months. “Sir, sir!” the officer
yelled from afar. He was smiling wider than even Sienar.
“What is
it, Lieutenant?” Sienar said, hoping for good news.
“This is
incredible news, sir,” said the officer. “I’m the only one who knows it,
but I’ve gathered the rest of the fleet over by the tent. Come, General.
My droid has the data to explain it all.” General Sienar began running
over to the crowd of rebel officers, hoping it was the end of the
Empire.
All the
officers were gathered around an R5 astromech droid who was ready to
project an image onto the ground in front of the crowd. Sienar stepped in
to the front of the row and looked down at the droid. Everyone appeared
to be ready, so the astromech began. A hologram recording of Mon Mothma
was projected life size on to the dirt of Yavin Eight, and her speech
began: “Contributive members of the fleet system of 0027, I am calling to
you in this transmission to send you a message of great importance and
great celebration. Earlier today, the New Republic was approached by the
Empire with a proposition. Ever since the creation of Senator Palpatine’s
new order, the Rebel Alliance was at war with the Galactic Empire. Since
the opening of the Galactic Civil War, we have been through a great deal
of both glorious and difficult moments. The Battle of Yavin sparked the
major conflict. The Battle of Hoth was the Alliance’s first major defeat.
And the Battle of Endor truly transformed the Alliance into the New
Republic. Imperial remnants fought on and pieces of the war continued.
But now it is over, 0027. We at the New Republic have officially come
with the Empire and signed a peace treaty effectively ending our conflict
forever!” The entire crowd burst into an uproar of laughs and cheers.
Sienar was laughing at the great day he was having.
The New
Republic was now free from the burdens of the Empire. They could properly
defend the galaxy from the scum that wasn’t the Empire. The war was
over.
* * * *
Pico had
found them. After months of searching, Pico had finally found a
settlement on Yavin Eight where the fleet of 0027 was located. He was
tired of the shuttle and was happy to finally have a place to get off
other than just fuel outposts.
He was
anxious to see Dominic Artemius again. He had been absent from his master
for quite some time now. Hana cried when he left early that morning back
on Habassa. He had no choice, however. She meant a lot more to him than
he had originally intended. One day he would carry out his promise to
return to see her again. One day.
The
shuttle entered the allosphere of the mountainous planet and he saw the
completed base there in between the hills of rock. He couldn’t believe
how well it was designed, actually. He really thought it looked good. The
force field shield that bubbled over the base made the innards visible.
Or at least most of them.
The
officers at the deck stationed for landing craft permitted his landing
and Pico entered the hangar on the ground. Through the window of the
cockpit, Pico saw Artemius coming to greet him with a big smile. All the
officers were smiling. Pico didn’t know what all the smiling was about,
but he guessed that they had good news for him.
