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The Sandtrooper's Story - Part II (Fan Fiction WIP)


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Just started reading it. I'm also a fic writer on TFN. Cool! Oh by the way, not sure if your die hard into continuity, but even though it's never mentioned whether or not the Death Star is hyperdrive capable, check out the Q&A section of the latest SW Insider Magazine, page 35. Looking forward to reading your story.

By the way, what is the MFP about? I understand it's a group of TD's, but is this sort of like another detachment?

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Just started reading it. I'm also a fic writer on TFN. Cool! Oh by the way, not sure if your die hard into continuity, but even though it's never mentioned whether or not the Death Star is hyperdrive capable, check out the Q&A section of the latest SW Insider Magazine, page 35. Looking forward to reading your story.

By the way, what is the MFP about? I understand it's a group of TD's, but is this sort of like another detachment?

GREAT!

I checked out the web about the Death Star drive systems and found some information in the Star Wars Technical pages...don't recall the link right now...but it said it was NOT lightspeed capable, but close, using multiple sublight engines positioned around its equatorial trench.

I will check out the Insider...Santa left it in my stocking!

Thanks for reading, I hope you like it and would love tohear your feedback, good, bad or ugly.

The MFP is a TD group started by several TDs in Richmond VA. We all found ourselves with Sandtrooper armor and joined together to form a small group to assist others in becoming TDs and to have a small group to share knowledge and info with. If you are interested in joining us, go check us out on our temporary website at www.moisturefarmpatrol.com.

There is a link to join our forums on the right side.

We have members across the US and several in Europe. We would love to have you join us.

I can't wait to hear what you think of the story. Happy New Year!

Ward Jones

TD2187

'Terek Deckard' in the story.

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Here's a little more:

While Ben” Kenobi had returned nothing from earlier holonet queries, 4120 thumbed the controls of his holo-pack scrolling through the many entries highlighting the exploits of Jedi Knight and General, Obi-Wan Kenobi. The hooded old man that had skillfully eluded Tyrell with a casual mind trick on the sweltering streets of Mos Eisley had been a major player during the Clone Wars. Not only had he been the Jedi to uncover the origins of the clone army and the battle ‘droid manufacturing facility on Geonosis, but he battled Count Dooku and General Grievous with his Padawaan during their rescue Senator Palpatine. His Padawaan killed Dooku onboard Grievous’ starship, the Invisible Hand, while Kenobi himself later caught up with and killed Grievous on Utapau, just prior to the issuing of Executive Order 66.

Every holo entry abruptly ended there . . . with the issuing of Order 66. One report from Commander Cody and his men on Utapau, stated that they believed they had delivered the killing blow to the Jedi when his Boga was blasted out from beneath him, and both fell from the rocky cliffs overhead into the deep, icy waters below. Although a body was never recovered, it was believed that he must have been killed in the fall from such a height . . . until now.

4120 switched off his pack as Rogue reappeared from out of the darkness, “All the data we have so far has been sent. Where is everyone?” 4120 stood and slipped his holo-pack back in its belt pouch as he replied, “Ddraig and Danz have gone ahead deeper into the ship with the Hammerhead to scout around a bit. 0600, Deckard and Felth are checking out the crates and supplies over there”, he said, gesturing to a dim area near the upward-curving walls of the ship. Rogue sat down, exhaling. “Now we wait. Vader has the information . . . hopefully it’s enough to help somehow”, he said rubbing his forehead. 4120 silently nodded his agreement as he glanced over at us.

0600 broke the seal on one of the crates and Felth and I forced the lid open. I bent down and picked up one of the illuminators from the sand, holding it over the opening. Inside were ten or so rolls of fabric. Half were a light material of a sandy color. The remaining rolls were darker and heavier. 0600 reached in and dug beneath the fabric, revealing several pairs of boots in varying sizes, each with a leather belt tucked inside. There were no weapons . . . simply the materials and supplies to clothe the weapons he hoped to raise and train in this crude facility . . . hopes that had never been realized.

Disgusted, Felth moved to the next crate, breaking the seal and throwing open the lid. Inside were a dozen large, square cushions. “Cushions?” he yelled. “There are cushions up here too”, called Falker from under one of the Bafforr trees on one of the durasteel catwalk landings above. “Looks like a perfect place for a Jedi to sit and meditate.”

“I’m going to get some air”, snarled Felth as he crossed the sandy floor heading for the exit hatch. I watched him go, sporadically appearing out of the black darkness as he passed by each of the five illuminators lined up between us and the durasteel ladder leading up to the hatch we had entered through.

“Let him go”, said 0600. “He’s used to starship duty . . . he wants action, not fabric.”

I watched him as he disappeared through the hatch, “He has a lot to learn about what action involves.”

* * *

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Felth emerged from the stone tunnel into the cool night air. Millions of stars pierced the darkness of the sky as he circled around behind several large rocks. He set down his helmet and looked around, waiting . . . listening. While he was fairly certain no one had followed him, he had to be sure. Finally, convinced no one had trailed him, his irritated demeanor melted away as he quickly unsnapped one of his belt pouches, pulled out his holo-pack and flipped back the cover.

As the small screen flickered to life, he keyed in a brief description of the training arena we had discovered and its coordinates, as well as a few lines about having just missed General Kenobi at Mos Eisley as he left on the Millennium Falcon. Once finished with his entry, the device prompted him for a transmission password. He entered the sequence he had received from his Bothan friend on Kothlis. He exhaled sharply as the code finally authenticated. He glanced over the top of the rock to make sure he was still alone as the screen flashed a request for the name of the recipient to whom he wrote.

He took a breath, entered the name . . . Base One - Jan Dodonna . . . and pressed the transmit button.

* * *

A squadron of X-wing fighters raced across the surface of the massive space station, strafing gun turrets and towers with crimson blasts from their wingtip cannons as they streaked past. They pulled up and re-grouped high above the surface, only to cut sharply across the axis, drawing the fire from the turret cannons as a formation of Y-Wings dove into the man-made canyons of the Death Star’s equatorial trench. They twisted and rolled as strategically placed drive system defense gun turrets along the rim of the trench blasted away at them to no avail.

An Imperial officer, standing by a monitor in one of the many tech stations, studied the green letters and numbers of the battle reports. They scrolled past on the monochrome screen as the station’s computers compiled damage reports and hit/miss ratios.

He suddenly realized that although the Death Star could easily blast away an entire planet, it was having a difficult time defending itself against the swarming rebel snubship fighters. A bead of sweat formed on his brow, as he studied the reports from the turbolaser towers . . . they were almost completely ineffective. If they were able to get past the guns and get to the exhaust port . . .

He had to find Lord Vader . . . quickly.

* * *

A final dot of light faded to black in the center of the screen as the Dark Lord switched off the data terminal and sat back in his padded chair. Cool air hissed in through vents in the pressure chamber as he began sifting what he had just read. He rested his bare head in his gloved hand, eyes closed, remembering his wife, and the child that he thought had died with her, by his hand. Chaos churned in the twisted recesses of Vader’s brain as his fingers traced the thick, deformed skin of the scar that ran across his scalp. His mechanically-assisted heart raced. Palpatine hadn’t foreseen this, and neither had he.

Luke Skywalker . . . Luke.

He had a son . . . a Force-sensitive son that had been hidden and protected by his former master. “Obi-Wan was wise to hide him from me” he thought to himself. Emotions that Anakin had not felt or even remembered existed were now dimly lit within him. Somewhere out there was the last piece . . . the last connection he had to his Padme. He slammed a fist down on one of the control buttons and his facemask and helmet lowered into place, locking and sealing on his head as the giant faceted sphere split apart in the center with the rush of escaping air.

* * *

Swarming Rebel fighters continued to strafe the surface of the station. The young officer looking for Lord Vader rushed through a corridor as it exploded around him, throwing him to the floor. Walls buckled, smoke and sparks filled the corridor as a trooper helped him up. He quickly checked himself for injury, then raced off in search of the Dark Lord.

He had almost reached the next monitoring station when he saw the dark figure of Lord Vader pass by in the intersecting hallway ahead. “We count thirty Rebel ships, Lord Vader. But they're so small they're evading our turbo-lasers!”

Vader stopped and turned to him, “We'll have to destroy them ship to ship. Get the crews to their fighters.” As he turned to walk away, he felt a small wave in the Force. A sensation he had not felt before. It was a feeling of recognition . . . like he had felt in the presence of Kenobi, but much fainter, like a whisper in a driving wind.

Somewhere deep inside, he could feel that his son was near, and the sensation was doing nothing but growing. Luke was just a boy, and Kenobi was dead . . . he could no longer mentor the boy. Abruptly, he turned and walked away toward the turbolift. Tarkin would be expecting him on the Superlaser observation deck.

* * *

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A few steps closer . . .

Danz and Ddraig climbed down off the tall rubble pile of stone and twisted durasteel girders, illuminators held high. Nadon stopped to catch his breath, “There’s a small breech in the hull just ahead, and an opening in the stone behind it that we must pass through in order to proceed.”

"What’s in there?” asked Ddraig. The Ithorian high priest blinked his eyes slowly, turning them to Ddraig, “I could tell you, but it won’t even come close to capturing all that awaits. You need to see this with your own eyes to appreciate it.” Ddraig shot a look to Danz who shrugged his shoulders,

Their tired guide stood and moved past them into the darkness ahead, carefully moving around the sharp, jagged edges of the durasteel hull skin that was peeled back from the sheared opening. They followed him into the stony opening beyond the hull and walked on several yards, navigating through the narrow crack in the rock until they stepped out into a much larger chamber. "Wait!” said Nadon. “You must be very careful here. There’s a long drop to either side of the path we’re on. You can see it more clearly in the day, as some light filters in through openings above.”

Both troopers, having left their helmets behind, stood very still until their eyes slowly adjusted, and the dim chamber became more visible. The enormous space was larger than they could have imagined. Nadon went ahead, crossing the stone bridge and through twin carved columns situated on either side of an ornately carved arch which led to another chamber ahead.

Danz and Ddraig followed slowly, taking everything in. The room opened into a common area, connecting all of the bridges like the hub of an enormous wheel. In its center were massive stone stairs, spiraling up and down to all levels.

Danz and Ddraig moved past, heading for the stairs and were about to descend when Nadon stopped them and sat down on a stone block, The stairwell passage has collapsed that way. There is no way down from here, only up.” The two troopers looked at each other and turned to head back to the bridge.

Danz knelt and was was staring down to the bridge below, “So how far down would you say it is to the next level?” Ddraig was trying to estimate the distance as Danz pulled a small folded grappling hook from a compartment on the rear of his belt and fished out some line. “It looks like a good fifteen to twenty meters. Why?”

Danz stood up and passed the grappling hook around one of the stone columns that flanked the archway they had passed through to reach the steps. He wrapped it completely around and locked the hook around the cable. "I’m going down to see if the steps are clear from that point down. If they are, we can repel down to the next level and then walk down from there.”

Ddraig didn’t much care for the idea, but knew there was no other way down. Danz stepped back off the bridge and had begun walking down the face of the stone wall toward the bridge below as Nadon caught up to them, “That is not the best of ideas. Dangerous this is. Old are these stone carvings, and delicate, fragile even.”

As he spoke, the stony column shifted with the crunching scrape of stone on stone. Ddraig dove toward the stone, pressing his shoulder into it "No, No No . . . don’t you do it!”

Nadon turned to help, lowering his shoulder and straining with his powerful legs. Try as they might, they could not stop the stone from sliding off its base and begin dragging toward the edge of the bridge, “DANZ! The stone is going over the edge! Get down to that bridge, GET OFF THE CABLE!” As he yelled, Danz hurried to reach the bridge, and as he was about to step foot on it, the column stone slid over the edge and into the darkness.

Draig screamed into the blackness below, “UNHOOK FROM THE LINE! UNHOOK

The stone dropped and slammed into the bridge below with a huge thudding sound that echoed loudly in the still, silent chamber . . . bouncing off the stony walls. The column shifted to one side as Danz fought to unclip the grappling assembly from his belt, but the stone toppled and fell over the edge of the lower bridge before he could release. It jerked him hard, off the bridge and down the smooth, stony wall to the bridge below, and then to the one below that, far out of sight and deep in the darkness.

DANZ!” yelled Ddraig. But there was only silence returned from below.

* * *

Troopers rushed through the hallway as Lord Vader addressed two TIE pilots, “Several fighters have broken off from the main group. Come with me.” Turning, he led the way down a corridor toward the TIE hangar bay that housed his modified fighter, “An analysis of the plans for the station have presented a potential weakness in its design. It could possibly be exploited if the Rebels have also managed to arrive at a similar conclusion.”

He stepped through an open blast door onto a gantry leading out into the mammoth hangar. As he arrived at the opened canopy hatch for his fighter, he turned once more to his accompanying pilots, “Stay close to me. You are only to fire when I say so . . . and obey my every command.” With that, he turned and slipped into the seat of his fighter as droids moved in to secure and prep him. The pilots walked away toward their own standard TIEs.

Vader strapped himself in as his mind raced . . . he had to be very careful. He wanted to strip away all support, all wingmen, all friends from Luke and disable his ship enough to force a landing in a secured bay. If he could manage this . . . perhaps the boy could be swayed to join him, and his days of bowing to Palpatine might become numbered. He and his son could rule the galaxy . . . leading the Empire he had forged so many years ago. Quickly he cleared his mind. Palpatine was very powerful. He could not risk the Emperor sensing his true intentions.

Overhead mechanical arms securing his fighter released as his repulsors and engines came online. The other two TIEs were also released moments later, and he maneuvered carefully toward the magnetic shield at the bay door as his wingmen formed up on either side. He throttled up, pushing through the magnetic membrane into the cold of space outside to join the battle, his wingmen in close proximity. “Stay in attack formation” he commanded over the comm as he banked his ship to the right.

* * *

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Rogue was in full gear running across an open courtyard as a deafening crack of lightning split the night air and heavy rain began to pour down. Several explosions rocked the ground as he ran, lighting up the thick smoke in the air behind him. He paused momentarily as 0600 and several others came running up to join him, and squeezed off several shots at those advancing from behind. “There’s one shuttle left on the pad, we’ve gotta get over there if we want any chance of surviving this.”

The ground exploded behind them, spewing dirt and small bits of duracrete debris through the air, instantly flung on the concussive shockwave. It blasted into their armored plates like a giant fist, knocking them all into the mud. “They’re getting closer, let’s go!” Another slash of lightning tore through the sky, accompanied by a chest-pounding clap and the disturbing roll of the moody thunder that followed.

As they ran through the smoke and rain, Rogue turned his head catching sight of his Squad leader, across the quad, pulling off his helmet, grabbing a T-21 repeating rifle from the hands of one of the dead troopers on the ground, and charging to the top of a pile of rubble. He cocked the rifle and began blasting away at the shadowy mass that was rapidly gaining on them from the far side of the complex.

The fence had been breeched, and the shuttle was their only way out now. His squad leader was firing non-stop, dropping bodies left and right, but still they advanced, swarming over him, beating him with their fists and clubs. Then, he disappeared in the swarm surrounding him, as if he were drowning.

They ran toward the landing pad as other troopers in their squad blasted away at the oncoming flood of Ithorians, covering their hasty retreat from a landing several meters above. Rogue and 0600 reached the bottom of the stairs that led up to the flight deck.

They were about to take the first step when another powerful explosion rocked the structure of the landing platform and ground beneath them, throwing them to the dirt. The troopers on the landing above were flung over the railing as a large, twisted mass of the durasteel structure folded in on itself and came crashing down around Rogue and 0600 . . . broken, bloodied bodies burying them.

Something had shattered his leg armor and pierced his thigh . . . he could hardly breathe under this tangled pile of dead troopers . . . he felt a cold chill run up his spine and passed out, slipping into darkness.

Suddenly, he was floating above, watching the battle unfold from high above his unconscious body. Thousands of Hammerheads came streaming across the base as he watched, washing around the pile of unmoving armored bodies he was beneath like water around a rock . . . as they advanced on the command center beyond. Rogue’s floating presence then felt 0600 shaking his body on the ground below . . . pulling him out of the pile of the dead. Lightning flashed brightly above as 0600 shook him, trying to rouse him, “Rogue, wake up!”

“Rogue, wake up!” said 0600, shaking him more violently now. Sweaty eyelids flew open and he instinctively reached for his blaster. He was staring up at 0600, who was blocking the E-11 from his reach . . . the cables of the Jedi arena criss-crossing the interior of the dim starship cargo bay behind him, overhead. “It’s OK, we’re on Tatooine, remember? You were dreaming. Danz is in trouble, we’ve gotta go . . . now.”

Rogue sat up and 0600 grabbed one hand, Ddraig grabbed the other and they pulled him to his feet. The others were hurrying past into the darkness following Nadon.

* * *

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Just started reading it. I'm also a fic writer on TFN. Cool! Oh by the way, not sure if your die hard into continuity, but even though it's never mentioned whether or not the Death Star is hyperdrive capable, check out the Q&A section of the latest SW Insider Magazine, page 35. Looking forward to reading your story.

By the way, what is the MFP about? I understand it's a group of TD's, but is this sort of like another detachment?

I just found the link that I used for the Death Star propulsion specs:

http://www.theforce.net/SWTC/ds/propulsion.html#propulsion

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  • 2 weeks later...

A little more:

Somewhere up above the dark chamber she was sitting in, there was the sound of a monstrous impact, and the shattering of stone as small rocks rained down through the twisting, sloping crevasses into the cathedral chamber she now rested in. A wave of dust followed, spreading across the open room. A furry hand reached for the lluminator, which she dimmed slowly. Cautiously, she cocked her hooded head to one side, listening to the silence that followed the crash. She glanced with gleaming eyes down to the Gaffi sticks and pouches she had scavenged off the dead Tuskens from the ridge outside the cave as she chewed her small mouthful of desert scurrier.

Curiosity got the better of her and as she swallowed her mouthful, she began to climb over the rocks, up the sloping stone grade into the darkness where the small rocks had spilled out. The rocky passage was narrow here, but as she crawled, it eventually widened just enough for her to squeeze out into a larger cavity above. There was no light here at all.

She pulled out her illuminator and switched it on revealing the incredible size of the chamber she was now in. “Ohhhh” she whispered as she leaned her head back, holding her hood and straining to see the top, then she lowered her gaze and looked around. In the center of the room, wrapped up in a tangle of cable, lay what remained of a huge stone column, now split down its length. She reflexively jumped behind the corner of the giant stone as a shower of small stones rained down from the darkness of the bridge span above . . . something was moving up there.

* * *

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“I am aware of the rebel snubships, Bast, but quite honestly they do not concern me in the least. I am only interested in acquiring a targeting lock on the fourth moon. We have almost cleared the curvature of the planet . . . once we do, the rebellion will cease to be of concern to anyone.” Tarkin exhaled shortly through slightly flared nostrils as he turned back to the wall display. Bast closed his eyes, wishing he could convince the Grand Moff that there was indeed reason to be concerned. Even Lord Vader had taken the information under advisement and was now personally engaging the fighters in his modified TIE.

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He swallowed hard and stepped up behind, and slightly beside Tarkin, almost whispering in his ear, that others might not hear what he had to say, “I’ve analyzed their attack, sir, and there is a danger. Should I have your ship standing by?” Tarkin’s eyes widened slightly in amazement as he turned to face Bast once again, “Evacuate? In our moment of triumph? I think you overestimate their chances.”

Bast bowed slightly, stepping back from Tarkin, then turned and left the observation deck as the Grand Moff and master statistician fumed at the idea that his incredible weapon, his Death Star, might possibly be in any danger from a small band of well-worn rebel fighters. Bast couldn’t be concerned with whether or not Tarkin believed him now. He hurried away toward the hangar bay and the small supply ship he had waiting.

* * *

Red Leader pressed the earpiece tighter to his ear as a crackling communication came through from Yavin IV, “Red Leader, this is Base One. Keep half your group out of range for the next run.”

All remaining pilots heard Red Leader acknowledge General Dodonna, “Copy, Base One. Luke, take Red Two and Three. Hold up here and wait for my signal to start your run.” As he finished issuing his order, he and two other X-wing fighters broke away from the main group and dove toward the trench and their shot at the exhaust port.

As they rolled into the trench, Red Leader called out to his wingmen, “Keep your eyes open for those fighters.” The reply from Red Ten came back almost immediately, “There’s too much interference. Red Five, can you see them from where you are?”

Biggs Darklighter and Wedge Antilles flanked Luke in a tight formation as he looked up, then strained his neck to the right as he began to reply, “No sign of any . . . “ Then he looked out to his left, “Wait, they’re coming in point three five.”

Red Ten replied as Red Leader prepared his computer to gain a lock on the target. “I see them.” High above the Death Star, Luke, Wedge and Biggs watched as the attacking group skimmed through the trench across the surface of the station, and could see TIEs closing in on them.

The odd TIE in the center of the formation pulled ahead of the wingmen and fired on Red Twelve, vaporizing the ship in the flash of a fireball. The TIEs flew though the flames holding steady on the tail of Red Ten, who continued to cover Red Leader.

“Almost there . . . “Red Ten responded in a panic, “I can’t hold them!” as Vader lined up his crosshairs on the rear of the rebel fighter. Green flashes of energy spit from the lead TIE, and Red Ten screamed momentarily into his comm as he and his ship vaporized into cosmic dust and were sprayed across the trench wall.

Red Leader yelled into his comm, “It’s away!” and pulled back ******* his stick, climbing out of the trench, still pursued by the triangular formation of TIEs. Red Nine yelled back, “It’s a hit?” A moment of silence passed and Red Leader responded, “Negative. Negative. It didn’t go in . . . it just impacted on the surface.” As he finished his comment, Vader fired on him, bolts of energy slashing through one of the four engines on his X-wing.

Luke spoke into his comm, “We’re right above you, turn to point oh-five. We’ll cover for you.” Red Leader knew he was no longer able to stay ahead of the TIEs, and cautioned Luke’s group away, “Stay there, I just lost my starboard engine. Get set up for your attack run.” As he finished his sentence, Vader’s sight found its target and the Dark Lord opened fire, energy beams ripping through the ship, crippling it. He screamed as his fighter raced in an unrecoverable dive toward the stark surface, and he was gone in a brilliant flash of flaming fuel scattered across the skin of the beast they fought.

Antilles and Darklighter watched the fireball from the impact of Red Leader’s ship as they raced past when Luke’s voice came through on their headsets, “Biggs, Wedge, let's close it up. We're going in. We're going in full throttle, that outta keep those fighters off our backs.”

Wedge kicked up his throttle as he responded, “Right with you, boss.” Biggs had a few concerns about the end of the trench and the space needed to pull up safely after dumping the torpedoes, “Luke, at that speed will you be able to pull out in time?”

Luke felt a warm energy coursing through his body as he fought to center himself the way Obi-Wan had instructed him, “It’ll be just like Beggar’s Canyon back home.”

* * *

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  • 3 weeks later...

Finally a small bit more to move us forward a step:

The little Jawa backed away from the sound, moving to a safer position behind the large stone column. As she moved around it, she found herself stuck to fine strands of thread wound around the column. She pulled away and the threads pulled with her, sticking to her robes. Winding her hand around the webbed strands, she pulled away with a jerk, severing them.

Sketto webs were common on Tatooine, especially in the cool shade of the cliff caves. Cautiously, she scanned the dim cavern above for any sign of the four-winged, blood-sucking reptomammals. Tatooine legend told that a swarm of Skettos could suck a sleeping Dewback dry overnight. She knew it wouldn’t take nearly that long to drain her little body. There didn’t appear to be any flying about, and the sound she heard was coming from the bridge above. Several small stones fell from the bridge, as she heard movements and a scraping sound . . . like a tied animal struggling to free itself.

There was a muffled noise followed by a loud scrape as a shower of stones fell to the ground and a large sack of Sketto webbing, tangled up in many web filaments slipped off the edge of the bridge and fell toward the ground. The tangled webbing pulled hard against the powerful strands it was tangled in, and stopped its fall suspended several feet above the stone floor in a vertical attitude.

The webbing moved and stretched from inside, and the frightened Jawa moved further behind the large stone. It was then that a leg pushed through the top of the tangle of strands and thrust out into the dim light. Turning her head to the side to get a better look around the stone, she saw that the leg was encased in white armor. This was no Sketto.

Moving slowly out from behind the shattered column, she walked over to the undulating silky bundle. Reaching up to the webbing, she grabbed it and abruptly pulled it apart. Danz pushed his sweaty, upside-down face out the hole she had made into the air and drew in a deep breath, scaring the little Jawa, who instinctively jumped back and slipped on the loose stones, falling backward to the darkness of the floor.

A black-gloved hand slipped out under Danz’ chin and pushed the webbing further away from his head, stretching the strong fibers up toward the ceiling of the enormous cavern until his chest armor was visible. He worked a shoulder through the opening and with his weight now over the opening, it pushed open wider as he squeezed through the narrow opening and fell to the hard rock below. He heard a muffled roar in his ears and although it was dark, he began to see an increasing white light as he slipped into unconsciousness.

He felt the little Jawa kneel beside him and begin wiping the blood from his eyes on her robe. Neither heard the muffled voices of the other members of the 104th as they descended toward him on cables from out of the darkness above.

* * *

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“Artoo, that stabilizer’s broken loose again. See if you can’t lock it down!” The little astromech opened a port in his dome and extended an arm to begin repairs as Luke Skywalker’s X-wing fighter raced through the trench of the Death Star.

Biggs and Wedge followed behind in close formation to watch his back. He was running out of time . . . they all were. He adjusted his targeting computer to re-center it, compensating for the energy flux that would most definitely be surrounding the thermal exhaust port.

Several green energy blasts sizzled by scorching the surface of the station as the Imperial fighters fought to lock on. The center TIE with the bent wings adjusted its attitude slightly and fired again hitting Wedge’s ship. The pilot from the crippled ship called out into his headset, “I’m hit. I can’t stay with you.”

Skywalker replied, “Get clear Wedge, you can’t do any more good back there.” Wedge managed a response as he fought his controls to climb out of the trench, leaving only Biggs and Luke, “Sorry!”

Moments before it occurred, Vader sensed one of his pilots unconsciously reacting, “Let him go! Stay on the Leader.” The dark Lord began to feel the ripples that Luke was making in the Force. He easily read the boys’ emotions . . . he felt the concern and worry for his wingmate, Biggs. He sensed the deep friendship there, and he moved in closer to exploit that friendship to his advantage.

Biggs was getting concerned, as he was all alone covering Luke’s back, “Hurry, Luke, they're coming in much faster this time. I can't hold them! Hurry up, Luke! Wait!” Vader locked on and expertly squeezed his fire controls firing through the X-wing ahead of him as Biggs’ ship burst into streaming bits of flaming debris. As he passed through the cloud of flaming gases that was Biggs’ ship, he could feel anger rising in his son. “Good . . . good.”

A control voice sounded over his comm, “Rebel Base thirty seconds and closing.” He noted the wingmen beside him and announced, “I’m on the leader.” He tried to get a lock on a non-critical portion of the X-wing ahead to cripple the fighter, but couldn’t seem to hold onto one, as the boy slid left and right. He can feel the Force strengthening the boy, and then the familiar tingle that accompanied Obi-Wan’s presence.

He spoke in to his comm, “The Force is strong with this one . . . “ trailing off to continue his thought in his mind, “but Obi-Wan can no longer help him. Old Master, you have now doubled your failure. Soon my son will join me. After all your clever hiding and waiting, my son will still join me.” He fires on the ship, blowing a flaming hole through the dome of the astromech mounted behind the cockpit.

Luke looked around and called out into his comm, “I’ve lost R2!” As he did so, Princess Leia, along with the rebel Commanders and Generals gathered in the map room on Yavin IV, heard the final warning, “The Death Star has cleared the planet. The Death Star has cleared the planet.

* * *

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  • 2 weeks later...

Topolev raced out under the starry night sky, past a startled Felth fumbling with his holonet pack, and down the hillside, sliding on the loose sand and stone. He shot glances left and right as he slid the last few meters down the hill, making his way toward the moonlit shuttle below.

The clanking of his footsteps echoed off the surrounding rocks of the canyon in the cool, still air as he bounded up the entry ramp. Tearing open a recessed gear locker in the bulkhead he pulled out a field medi-pak and headed back to the wreckage of the B’Omarr starship.

From the stone of the bridge, Falker was on his knees with his infrared scanners, peering into the darkness. He couldn’t seem to get the angle needed to see straight down to the bridge below without risking going over the edge himself. Blade and 4120 were also sweeping the darkness for any possible sign, but were having similar difficulties.

0600 and Rogue continued to let out more cable as they lowered Ddraig further into the darkness below. Etz and I had our E-11s drawn and were on full alert against possible threats from any of the other unexplored portions of the caves as Ddraig’s boots finally touched down on the bottom.

* * *

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“Rebel Base in Range”, came the announcement from one of the controllers behind him. With absolute calm, Tarkin casually replied, “You may fire when ready.” The controllers’ hands flew over their workstations, pressing buttons and changing the light in which their faces were bathed from green to red.

Protocols were activated and being carried out at the other Superlaser unit locations to ready the station and its operators for a second blast of destructive power in less than a day.

A small supply ship lifted clear of its landing bay and slipped away from the station until it disappeared in the glimmer of a hyperspace acceleration. Three TIE fighters moved closer to the lead X-wing as it screamed through the equatorial trench and headed for the thermal exhaust port.

The young rebel in the cockpit was focusing on the voice of his mentor, feeling only the very fringes of the Force, and yet it felt warm and comforting like the twin suns of Tatooine, or the love from a Father he had never known. It would have to be enough.

He sensed the convergence of many cosmic timelines, lives and careers, all in a single moment . . . a moment he was born to be in.

Vader moved in a bit closer, trying to find the perfect, crippling shot that would allow his son to survive . . . and then his targeting scope locked on to a non-critical portion of a wing, “I have you now”. He fired. As the green energy beams flashed through the void of space and tracked closer to their intended target, his wingman flashed into an expanding fireball. Luke looked around to see what happened, only to discover one of the TIE’s had been destroyed.

Vader snapped his head up from his scope “What!?” His wingman’s helmeted head swung around trying to locate the source of the blast, only to see the Millennium Falcon diving down on a collision course from above, “YAHOOO!” screamed the Corellian pilot into his open-channel comm.

The sight of the Corellian ship bearing down on them caused him to overcompensate on his control stick, clipping the wing of Vader’s TIE, “Look out!”, he screamed, as he glanced off Vader’s ship and was obliterated along the canyon wall.

Vader’s TIE was thrown clear of the trench, rolling away toward deep space with a badly damaged wing and Ion engine. Alarms sounded in his cockpit as the damaged ship limped away from the battle. Turning Luke would have to come later.

“You’re all clear kid, now let’s blow this thing and go home!” Luke closed his eyes and wiped the sweat from his face, centering himself in the cockpit, feeling the Force, allowing it to guide him, to make him stronger. There was a loud rushing sound in his ears, like a powerful wind through trees. He opened his closed eyes, realizing that his torpedoes had been fired. Pulling back ******* the control stick, he and his X-wing climbed out of the trench just before it ended abruptly.

The four remaining ships, two X-wings, a lone Y-wing and the Millennium Falcon broke away from the gravitational field of the station and streaked away as the proton torpedoes raced and tumbled down the shaft of the two-meter-wide exhaust port seeking out their target.

Tarkin stood watching Yavins’ moon from the observation deck. Behind him, his Superlaser Fire Control Officer threw the last switch to fire on the Rebel base. There was a moment of silence where there should have been a blinding flash.

The Fire Control Officer swiveled to check the reactor core monitor, which was flashing red and white as the deck beneath the command station began to rumble and shake. Tarkin turned and saw the monitor’s warning signal flashing as everything was instantly ripped apart on a molecular level and the energy released by the meltdown in the central core erupted through the skin of the Death Star in a Supernova explosion that mimicked the intensity of a real star.

Shock waves were flung out into space, rippling away from the intense blast, slamming across Vader’s ship, rolling it over several times and shredding the one good remaining wing. He finally recovered and expertly maneuvered what remained of his TIE on a course for the relatively nearby Imperial base on Korriban.

He carefully tucked the small vial of sand from Tatooine into the folds of his tunic, and tapped the hilt of Kenobi’s lightsaber, clipped beside his own.

* * *

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Ddraig had explored many such caverns during his Zero-G training on the cold, dead moons of Bogden. It was close to Carida and offered a perfect environment for mastering the bulky Zero-G suits.

Unclipping from the cable, he pulled his bucket off and knelt beside Danz. He pulled the glove off his right hand with his teeth as he grabbed the luminary from his belt with the left. It cast a dim glow across his friend’s bloody face.

Ddraig slipped two fingers under the edge of the ribbed black neckseal feeling for signs of life. His fingertips felt the slow but rhythmic pulsing . . . Danz was alive.

Slowly, he rolled Danz on to his back and brought the luminary closer to further inspect his friend. The right shoulder bell armor plating lay draped across the chest, lower than it should have been.

Ddraig went to slip it back in place when he realized the arm beneath it was not where it belonged either. He moved the armor aside and could easily see that the arm had been pulled out of its socket.

He moved the luminary, scanning the legs, which seemed to be all right. It was only then that he noticed the severed cable just below Danz’ holster. As he brought the luminary around for a better look, he noted that the cable had been sheared clean through and heat-sealed. The bottom edges of the holster just above it had been blown away. The bottom was all jagged and rough.

He tried to pull the E-11 out, but it had been jammed down in tightly. He tugged harder, finally freeing it enough to slip it out slightly. The power was still on. It looked as if Danz had fired several shots through the bottom of the holster to sever the cable as he fell.

“Ddraig, did you find him?” questioned Rogue through his helmet’s comm. He grabbed the bucket and keyed the chin switch, “Yeah, I have him. He’s a bit banged up, but he’s alive.” The little jawa shifted slightly behind the stone, trying to see, but also trying to keep herself concealed.

“That’s good to hear. We’re sending Deckard down with a field medi-pack and a harness.” Ddraig shook his head and keyed the comm again, “Negative. That won’t work. His shoulder’s dislocated, we’re going to have to find another way to get him out of here.”

On the bridge above, Rogue squeezed his eyes shut, trying to come up with an alternate idea. He turned to the rest of us, “Any ideas?” We all looked around at each other, then Etz spoke up, “We could do one of two things. We could rig a basket of some kind to the cable to lift him up in, or . . . we could go back to base and get the repulsor sled.”

Rogue nodded. “OK. Let’s see if we have anything we can use for a basket. Topolev, go back and check the shuttle for a cargo crate lid or something along those lines.”

“I’m on it” Topolev responded, and turned to head off the bridge back through the Jedi arena and starship wreckage toward the shuttle. “Falker, you and 4120 check around out in the cargo bay of the B’Omarr ship. Look at those crates General Kenobi had back at the training area. And has anyone seen Felth?!”

Ddraig looked back over to Danz, as the injured trooper began to regain consciousness and stir. “Hurry up whatever you do, we need something to get him out of here. We need to reposition his shoulder and get some Bacta into the cuts on his head.”

I clipped in to the cable as Rogue replied, “Deckard’s on his way down with the medi-pack and we’re trying to figure out something to use for a basket to haul him up. If we can’t find anything, we may need to bring the repulsor sled from back at base.”

Ddraig shook his head. “Great. At least with the medi-pack we can make him comfortable and allow him to rest while we wait.” I nodded at 0600 and Rogue as they let out some slack on the cable and I stepped back off the edge of the bridge into the blackness.

* * *

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Several of the twisted, black solar panels along the framework of the wing were peeled back and ripped off in fiery streaks as the crippled TIE fighter entered the atmosphere high above the desolate surface of Korriban.

This remote planet was known primarily as the indigenous home to the original Sith people. They had been a simple, red-skinned race that were easily dazzled by the God-like Force powers of Dark Jedi castouts . . . Knights that had fled into exile from the Jedi Order during the Hundred Year Darkness.

The primitive Sith raised them up and held them in the highest regard, as rulers, or “Lords” of the Sith. Over the years, many Sith Lords were laid to rest here, in tribal burial grounds alongside the ancient Sith dead. As their reign came to a close, elaborate burial temples would be erected to honor them and serve as a final resting place. Interbreeding between the humans and the Sith ultimately resulted in a merging of the races and a spreading of the darkness.

Vader’s badly damaged ship slipped past jagged stony mountain spires thrust up from the surface, formed by angry ancient volcanoes and the shifting and colliding of surface plates. He continued on into the hills, seeking out a small cavern just past the Valley of the Dark Lords, in the cliff face on the far side of the mountains. While there had been no official Imperial base established, he had insisted on a presence on Korriban. A presence that sought ancient Sith writings and artifacts . . . a presence that existed to plunder the temples in search of sources for even greater knowledge, understanding and power.

He felt the ship lurch as the tractor beam locked on and slowly pulled him into the cave. He would need time to plan his next move. Tarkin was dead, and Palpatine’s toy was gone. The Emperor would surely want Luke dead and the Rebellion crushed for destroying the station. He had to work quickly. Locating, seducing and turning his son must now become his primary objective. He could not fail.

* * *

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I had made it to the bottom of the dark shaft, and was now with Ddraig assessing Danz’ injuries. I was no med ‘droid, that’s for certain, but his arm looked pretty painful. On the bridge overhead, Rogue switched his helmet’s comm switch with his chin and walked into the darkness of the corridor leading back to the Jedi training area. Using the head’s up display on his left lens, he selected TD1265 and initiated the communication.

Far across the sands of Tatooine, in our barracks building, 1265 slid one last crate onto the lift before acknowledging the inbound communication, “1265 here”. Rogue responded, “1265, are you still at base?” An affirmative reply sounded in Rogue’s earpiece. “Yes, sir. I finished going through the records from the Port Authority for the Millennium Falcon and the Outrider, and have been moving our supplies to the lower level since completion.”

“Excellent” replied Rogue. “There’s been an accident. I need you to gather up the repulsor sled, load it into the drop ship and bring it out to us. I’m transmitting the coordinates of our location to the base holonet terminal. You’ll find the drop ship in spaceport bay 88”. “I’ll be on my way shortly, sir. 1265 out.”

Danz was coming around as we finished cleaning the blood off his face. There were scrapes on his face and two fairly deep gashes on his forehead and scalp. Ddraig pulled two small pouches of Bacta from the medi-pack and threw one toward me as he opened his.

Danz was disoriented and asking something about where the Jawa was. We shot a glance at each other as we tried to keep him still, “I didn’t see any Jawa . . . did you Ddraig?” He shook his head, “No, I didn’t see any Jawa. Danz, your shoulder is dislocated, try to lie still. There doesn’t appear to be any fractures, but we’re going to have to put the arm back in the socket.”

I worked some of the bacta into the two deeper cuts as Danz lay his head back down on the stone floor, sweat rolling off his forehead. He laughed slightly, “That oughta be fun.”

* * *

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1265 stepped off the lift, pushing the floating repulsor sled. He walked through the blast doors, out of the storage room and between the rows of bunks. Giving the sled a shove, he turned away as it floated across the floor and bumped to a stop against the frame of the opening that led to the command center.

Pulling off his helmet and tossing it on his bunk, he squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed the short hair on the top of his head vigorously. The lifeless Radar eye and holoprojectors of the burned out astromech ‘droid beside Deckard’s bunk stared coldly back at him as he gathered some supplies and stocked his utility belt.

He withdrew two E-11 energy clips from his gear bag and slipped them into the ammo pouch mounted on his belt, shooting the ‘droid one last look as he grabbed his bucket and rifle.

It was relatively cool on the streets as he slipped out the front door with the sled. He secured the base and walked off toward the spaceport.

* * *

“Whatever you do, don’t let go” said Ddraig, looking at me. He repositioned his boot to get a better footing on Danz’ chest as he gripped the right hand and forearm. I looked over to him as I firmly held Danz’ right bicep in my left hand and had my other hand free, “I won’t. You sure you know what you’re doing?”

Danz turned toward him, “Yeah, you sure you know what you’re doing?” Ddraig nodded, “I had to do this for one of my fellow Zero-G trainees. If I can do it in one of THOSE suits, I can do it in this gear. Just close your eyes and relax Danz, so you don’t know when it’s coming.” He looked up at me and mouthed ON THREE as Danz shut his eyes tight.

ONE – TWO – THREE!

As he said three, he jerked the displaced right arm away from Danz’ body, firmly pressing down with his foot on Danz’ chest. I felt Danz tighten up, but the arm pulled out away from the socket and I slammed the tightened fist of my free hand into the upper arm, feeling it pop back into place. I released my hold on his arm and fell back to the ground. Ddraig also let go as Danz howled and rolled over in pain.

Ddraig pulled the handheld comm off his belt and keyed it on, “He’s back in one piece. Sore, but back in one piece”. Rogue’s voice crackled back through the tiny speaker, “That’s good news. 1265 is on his way with the sled, we’ll let you know when he gets here. Felth, where’ve you been? We were looking for . . .” and the comm went silent again.

Ddraig snapped off his comm and sat down on the stone floor, leaning back against the column. The little Jawa, who was now painfully close to Ddraig, quietly moved further behind the massive stone. I pulled a tranquilizer gun out of the medi-pack and unwrapped it. I placed the tip of the gun against the black bodysuit at Danz’ hip and fired. The needle deployed, injected the medication and retracted. As Danz settled a bit, I pulled out the spent tranq cartridge and placed the gun back in the medi-pack.

I slid over and leaned my back against the broken column, trying to get comfortable. “So what’s your story Deckard? Tell me about yourself, how you ended up here.” I began relaying the story of my youth to him, about working in the shipyards, but my mind was elsewhere.

The old man we had narrowly missed apprehending in Mos Eisley had been a Jedi, of that I was certain. What was a farmboy doing with a Jedi Knight on Tatooine? I had hunted a few Jedi early in my career. When those that survived the initial wave of the Great Purge had fled, running away into hiding, it took us years to flush them out and exterminate them.

Vader had even trained several small units of the 501st to carry lightsabers for engaging the Jedi refugees. Mine had been put away for a very long time, and I was under the impression that all the Jedi had been killed . . . that our own Lord Vader was the last remnant of that ancient Order.

If General Obi-Wan Kenobi had lived on Tatooine for the past 20 years, he had to have lived somewhere and possibly left behind clues as to where he had gone. I would make it my business to find General Kenobi’s home, and I would be questioning Nadon about it first.

* * *

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Scouring the web!

Here's a little more to the story:

There were intricate, detailed carvings of the sublime Dunes and the suns on the walls, even all the way down here. Tiny stone Banthas littered the hand-shaped landscape in small herds. The now-shattered column had destroyed a shallow stone pool that appeared to have once been filled with a combustible liquid and ignited to give off light in this huge space during the dark hours of night.

In both directions, the room gently curved around the center stone hub. I had walked far enough from Ddraig that I could barely see the luminary and had seen nothing but another pool and gentle curving of the massive stone wall.

I retraced my steps, drawing closer to our dangling cables, hanging from up above. Ddraig looked up as I walked past, “He’s out for awhile, mind if I join you?” I shook my head and reached out a gloved hand to help him to his feet. He drew his blaster and switched it on as we walked off in the opposite direction from where I had just been exploring. He looked back once at Danz, then hurried to catch up with me.

From around the edge of the column, amber eyes watched as we walked off. Quietly, she turned and walked over to Danz and reached down to touch his forehead. He stirred, eyes opening slightly, staring up at the little Jawa, “You’re the one from outside . . .”

He blinked and she was gone, scurrying over to the small crack through which she had entered. She took one look back over at Danz, one glance in the direction we had walked and dove headfirst into the tiny, dark opening. Danz swept his drugged eyes back and forth once more, looking for her before he slipped back into unconsciousness.

“I know we met you on Denon Station, but where were you before there?” I asked as we walked.

“I’m originally from a small industrial town on Corellia where my father runs a profitable droid and weapons production facility. I began my Imperial service by joining the Academy shortly after my older brother, Gwreng. I excelled in my classes and was assigned to TIE Interceptor Patrols in the Corellian System shortly after graduation.

I was then transferred to piloting an Assault Gunboat. I performed well, but didn’t feel it suited me. Working with the troopers led me to put in a request for transfer and I was reassigned to basic training for infantry combat. I did well in extreme conditions training and this is where I decided to focus my attentions. Artic warfare, Desert Warfare, and Zero-G Combat Training made me very versatile and allowed me to choose my next assignment.”

My eyes caught something coming up in the wall ahead as he talked and we continued ahead into the darkness.

“My last assignment was captain of a small squad on Dantooine where I was assigned to Desert Warfare, and Mounted Infantry training. I continued that training for the past two years. I was just recently called back to Coruscant for redesignation and classification along with a battery of Loyalty tests, which I passed.

It seems the Empire discovered that my older brother had not only left their ranks some time ago, but had recently become a high ranking officer in the Rebel Alliance. The next thing I knew, I was given orders to report to my transport, and that’s when I met you.”

“Sounds like a busy life so far. Looks like Tatooine has slowed things down a notch for you. You sure you know where your loyalties lie?” I asked.

“Yeah” he replied, "I'm sure."

Nodding thoughtfully, I gestured with my left hand, “I spotted an archway up there while you were talking . . . let’s check it out.” We continued on leaving Danz further and further behind.

* * *

In the darkness of the cave, several troops stood at attention on the gantry alongside the TIE fighter as Lord Vader inspected the damage. One engine destroyed, one wing sheared nearly off, and the rear edge of this wing was crumpled from the collision with his wingman.

Disgusted, he turned to the closest trooper, “Repair that ship. Use whatever resources necessary. I want it ready as soon as possible. Until that time, I will be accompanying the search team in the temples.”

“Yes sir” snapped the trooper sharply in response as the newest Dark Lord of the Sith walked away down the gridded planking. The trooper then hurried off to begin locating parts and mechanics, leaving one guard behind.

Across the cave, in a shadowy recess, a tiny camera snapped an infrared image.

Posted Image

The person behind the camera then silently slipped from his hiding place and quickly made his way out of the caverns' mouth and into the undergrowth of the hillside.

* * *

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