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

[noodle3]

Does anyone know the origina of the image in the last post above?

is it this classic pose/promo shot thats been photoshoped into a tie bomber sceen?

http://i167.photobucket.com/albums/u127 ... rArmor.jpg

just a suggestion

added the link so as not to ditract from the good read

[Tyranus]

Does anyone know the origina of the image in the last post above?

added the link so as not to ditract from the good read

Thanks very much! I'm glad you're enjoying it. I took the week off while on vacation. Hopefully after work calms down a bit I will be posting some more to the story.

[Tyranus]

More to follow soon, but I have written a bit out of order, so I have to wait a while to post up what I've written...here's a little portion that follows the last post in sequence:

The Sentinel skimmed low across the desert floor, throwing a cloud of sand up in its wake. 1265 watched the small display of instruments before him as he locked on to the signal beacon from Tyrell’s shuttle.

He watched out the front visor . . . the light brown sand appeared almost white now in the moonglow. The rise and fall of the sparkling dunes beneath the ship as it passed was rhythmic in its pattern. A flashing on the instruments indicated a close proximity to his destination as the Shuttle’s beacon signal blip disappeared into his own signal . . . he was almost there. He could see the pre-dawn glow of the suns emanating from the horizon . . . it was almost morning.

Falker slid down the hillside to the floor of the canyon outside and stood beside Blade as 1265 banked up and over the rim of the canyon. The wings folded upward and he lowered the drop ship to rest beside the shuttle.

Rogue stepped out of the cave mouth into the moonlight as 1265 descended the ramp pushing the repulsor sled. He watched as Blade and Falker helped 1265 push it up the hill toward where he was standing, “Come on . . . let’s get it inside so we can get Danz out of here.”

* * *

[Tyranus]

I adjusted a small dial in the handle governing the repulsor and the sled lowered to the ground. Danz sat up in the dim light of the luminary and we slid him on, sitting upright. I returned the dial to its original position and the sled lifted and hovered 2 feet off the ground. “Take him on up, I’ll clip in to one of the cables and meet you up there.”

“See you topside”, said Ddraig as he took the control on the handle and stepped onto the corner of the sled. I clipped in as they lifted into the darkness above and made it to the level of the first bridge, then the second, climbing slowly higher toward the others who waited above. I flipped the chin switch inside my helmet “All set here, bring me up.”

Etz, 0600 and Nadon pulled on my cable, lifting me off my feet.

* * *

The ground crew, freedom fighters, pilots, officials, leadership and his new friends had all cleared out of the Ceremonial hall, and Luke Skywalker sat alone on the stone steps, looking down at the hero’s medal around his neck. His life had accelerated beyond his wildest imaginings and thrust him squarely into the center of the conflict with the Empire. Like it or not, he was now part of the Alliance and prominently displayed on the Empire’s hit list.

His thoughts dissolved into images of his life back on Tatooine . . . a life that was now lost forever, scattered on the winds like the smoke from his ruined home. Since the death of Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru, he had been caught up in the unfolding of events beyond his control.

He had been running on adrenaline and the desire to help the beautiful princess avoid execution. With all that now behind him, he realized that while he had learned a bit from Ben in the short time they had traveled together, it would not be nearly enough to become a Jedi Knight and face Vader.

The whirring of R2’s motors brought him back into the moment as the little droid rolled to a stop behind him. Threepio ambled in behind him, “R2-D2, can’t you see Master Luke wants to be alone?”

The little astromech threw together a string of sounds in a retaliatory comment, as Threepio reacted, obviously offended, “You watch yourself or I’ll have maintenance remove your filthy little audio processors! Why I must endure the the displeasure of your company is beyond me.”

“It’s alright Threepio . . . I was just thinking about Ben.”

“Oh . . . as you wish, Master Luke.” R2 rattled off a small sentence of burps and whistles, and the protocol droid translated, “R2 says you have known Master Kenobi for some time. We are both very sorry for your loss, sir.”

Luke looked off down the stone aisle as he spoke, “I’ve known OF him for a long time. My uncle and the other farmers all thought he was some kind of magician or wizard. He didn’t come out much . . . and he traveled the Jundland Wastes on foot, no one else did that. I saw him a few times headed toward Mos Eisley, but never in Anchorhead.

About 5 seasons . . . umm . . . 5 standard years ago, my friend Windy and I rode out into the wastes on a Dewback. We were fed up and just wanted to get away for awhile and blow off some steam. The Dewback we were riding got spooked by the cry of a Krayt Dragon echoing toward us from the distant hills. It threw us off in one of the canyons and ran away. We wandered around for the rest of the afternoon trying to find our way out, but we were hopelessly lost and the suns were almost down.

We sat down, trying to figure out the best place to spend the night, when a voice spoke to us from the rocks above and called MY name . . . it was Ben Kenobi. He guided Windy and me back to our farm and made sure we were safe. Uncle Owen was furious, but not with Windy and me, with Ben!

He ordered Ben off our farm and told him not to come back. The old wizard hesitated, eyes locked with Uncle Owen. Then he glanced over to me and opened his mouth momentarily as if he wanted to say something, but he cut his eyes back to Uncle Owen briefly and walked off into the night.

I wonder if he was trying to tell me about my father even then? I also wonder why Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru wouldn’t want me to have known. They had to know how important it was to me to know him . . . anything about him.”

As he paused, an officer stepped into the chamber at the other end of the long aisle, “Commander Skywalker, General Dodonna needs to see you right away.”

Luke looked up, “I’ll be right there.” He stood up and pulled the medal from around his neck and handed it to Threepio, “put this with my things, I’ll be back soon.” He turned and walked down the steps, polished boots clacking slightly on the stone floor as he walked away down the aisle and disappeared through the giant doors.

“Come on R2, let’s go" said the gold protocol droid to his squat counterpart.

“Ahh, Commander Skywalker . . .” General Dodonna opened a file on his datapad and set it on the large table as Luke approached. The doors closed behind him and they were alone. “Intelligence reports are indicating that Darth Vader’s ship did not rejoin the Imperial Fleet following the destruction of the Death Star.

It is assumed his ship was damaged in Captain Solo’s unorthodox assault and that he has made his way to a nearby system. I want patrol missions launched to find him before he can rejoin the Emperor. If we can remove him from power, that’s one less we need to contend with.”

Luke nodded “Vader is very dangerous. We’ll find him, General.”

“We also need to begin preparing for an evacuation of this base. The Death Star is gone, but the Empire will be here in force soon to deal with us in a ground assault. We have several locations being scouted as we speak.”

He put a hand on Luke’s shoulder, “I know the loss of General Kenobi has been ******* you, son. I am dealing with it myself, now for a second time. I thought he was dead once, long ago . . . now he really is. I have some information in my chambers on a datacard from one of our spies embedded within the Empire . . . about a hidden Jedi training facility that Kenobi pieced together during his years of seclusion. I’ll make you a copy, it may prove helpful to you in your journey to become a Jedi.”

“Thank you, sir. I would be very interested to see that.”

* * *

[Tyranus]

Behind the polarized lenses of my armored helmet, my eyes burned and watered from the long day’s activities and the long night that had followed with no sleep. It had been hours since Rogue submitted his report to Vader with no response yet.

That could either be a good sign, or a bad one . . . I couldn’t decide which I thought it might be. Either Vader had located the passengers from the Millennium Falcon onboard the Death Star, or perhaps the ship was a decoy, and he was involved in an intensive hunt for them. If the latter were true, he would be contacting us sooner or later for any additional information we had uncovered.

Rogue would have plenty to tell him about the discovery of the training arena. He and 4120 had secured Danz in his bunk to allow his shoulder a day to recuperate. He had fought them, saying he was fine, but in the end gave in and accepted the downtime.

Suddenly, I came back into the moment. I leaned against a stone wall and looked across the courtyard of the open marketplace . . . people were gathering and heading this way. The moisture farmers had obviously gotten the word about our meeting. I watched as they walked closer. They were a seasoned group, worn down by season after season working in the beating suns and the stinging, blowing sand. They gathered in a small group and talked amongst themselves as still more began to file in.

Rogue paced slowly a few yards away from me, as the farmers filled in and moved a bit closer. All eyes were on him, but he was waiting, watching the corridors . . . watching those who were still filing in. These were the people we were here to serve. Their lives were difficult enough in this harsh region without fearing Tusken attacks as well.

I tried again to connect to the holonet through my helmet with no luck. It had been out all night. I walked out of the courtyard and over to Blade as Rogue and 4120 began speaking with the crowd. “Hey Blade, you been able to connect to the ‘net?”

He shook his head, “Nope. I’ve been trying since last night. When we get back to base I’m going to check another channel, maybe the signal booster through the Death Star is down.”

I nodded, “Good idea. I don’t know what was in those stolen plans, but something big is going down. Those stolen plans got Vader so riled up that he came all the way out here in person to capture the princess himself, not to mention that he and Tarkin used the Superlaser to Destroy Alderaan. ALDERAAN! That’s not some Outer Rim dustbowl, that’s a Sovereign planet in the core . . . a high-profile strike.”

Blade nodded, “I know, now with the ‘net down, I wonder if a relay station was destroyed or something?”

[SethB6025]

Nice, an early b-day present! Yeah, that relay on the Death Star must be on the fritz...

[Tyranus]

Thanks Seth! Here's a little more:

“I don’t know” I responded. We turned our attention back to the conversation being had with the Farmers . . .

“I for one am glad you’re here . . . if you’ll do what you say you’re going to do. I put a ‘droid out working on one of my ‘vaporators last week and came back to pick him up once the job was done, only to find a near-empty shell of a ‘droid surrounded by little footprints in the sand. Those Jawas must have picked it clean right before I came back!”

Another farmer stepped forward, clearing his throat, “Yeah! I’ve had the same problem with those blasted Jawas scavenging parts, and the Raiders are beginning to rig the machinery with booby-traps. I lost two men last month. One of my condensers exploded when they opened the panel to work on it.”

Another spoke up beside him, “They’ve been getting bolder in their attacks, all right, raiding the supply sheds and hydroponic gardens not 20 meters from my home!”

They all began to speak at once, “Makes you wonder how much the Hutts are behind this! It would be just like them to instigate this kind of warfare using the local talent. Their turf wars and the resulting impact on pricing have all but driven many of us out of business.”

A short and bent, leather-faced man pushed through the crowd to the front, “They took my son! Three seasons ago my son was taken while he worked on some units on the edge of the Dune Sea. We mounted a search party, but he was never found. I don’t know if he’s alive or dead! Please help us!”

“That’s why we’re here” said 4120. “We’ll do everything we can to drive the Tuskens and Jawas back in line. I think the Hutts have been part of an ongoing investigation for some time now, from what we’ve uncovered so far. We’ll continue monitoring them and try to find a balance that works for everyone.”

Rogue stepped up beside 4120, “It won’t happen overnight. We’re new here and it will take some time for them to respect the authority that we bring to the fight, but they will respect it or face the consequences.”

A rush of murmurs and whispers passed through the crowd.

* * *

[TK9993]

Love the story. I also like how you mention just the TD numbers.

[Tyranus]

Love the story. I also like how you mention just the TD numbers.

Thanks!

If you are just reading part II (the part being written here) there are 10 chapters that came before this. They can be found and downloaded here:

http://mfpblogdlpage.blogspot.com/2006/ ... -site.html

[Tyranus]

Here's a little more:

Chirps, croaks, whistles and cries came from the thick forests, as high atop the stone temple of the Massassi, Luke scanned the horizon with macrobinoculars, watching for signs of the first patrol that was currently out trying to locate Vader. There had been no contact for some time. They were now overdue for return, and there was still no sign of them. He had a bad feeling about this.

The device’s small screen winked off in a flash-blip as he lowered them from his face to scan the skies above the outstretched tree canopy with squinting eyes. His chest heaved a bit as he breathed . . . he was a farmboy from Tatooine and was still adjusting to all the moisture and high humidity levels in the air on Yavin IV.

Two heavy transports under escort rose from the cover of the trees and slipped into the clear sky. He watched them until he could no longer distinguish them from the sky. The preliminary evacuation was well underway now. They had enough time for several more patrols, but if the first one didn’t return, the Empire might already be closer than they had expected. He turned and descended the stairs into the temple, heading for the ground level and the hangar bay.

General Dodonna slipped the duplicate datacard out of the replicator in the command center and quickly into his inside jacket pocket. The original card then ejected. He took it and went to drop it into his outer breast pocket. Instead of falling safely inside, the small card missed the pocket and fell to the floor as the General walked away and out the door into the hallway. The small card labeled “Base One” was now face down on the ground. It slipped into the small crack between the metal floor grates as a technician walked by.

It was in the hallway to the main hangar that Dodonna ran into Luke. “Here’s that copy I promised you” he said, holding out the datacard. Luke took the small card, hoping it would help guide him to a starting place, give him some direction back to what he needed from Ben . . . from Obi-Wan, “Thank you, General.”

Dodonna turned to walk away, then turned back, stopping Luke, “Commander, First Patrol is gone. We just received word from a reliable source that a sizeable debris field has been located along the path of their search trajectory.” Luke’s eyes widened, “What?! What happened? Did they run into Imperial fighters or Destroyers?” “We don’t know yet son. I’m sorry, I know some of them were your friends.” He turned and somberly walked away down the corridor.

Luke solemnly turned and walked into the hangar. Far across, on the other side, crews were packing containers for the transports, but this side was quiet. He stepped out into the aisle between the rows of X-wing fighters with canopies open, hardly able to believe that he was here at all, much less a Commander in the Alliance!

He quietly walked between the still, silent craft . . . all were comfortably broken in and showed signs of wear, but had been tuned to peak efficiency by the Rebel ground crew. There were precious few left after the assault on the Death Star, and this lonely, silent row represented them all.

He moved past the front of his ship, designated Red-5, and climbed the ladder to the cockpit. Stepping into the opening and settling into the seat, he smelled the presence of the ship itself. The cockpit and controls had been broken in during numerous dogfights and battles, long recon missions and escort service to larger ships under the control of others, but he had flown in her only once. He came back into the moment, clearing away the thoughts of Biggs’ ship vaporizing at the hands of Vader.

He leaned forward a bit and inserted the small datacard Dodonna had given him. Help was desperately needed if he was ever going to find a way to grow as a Jedi and hopefully stop Vader, or die trying. He stared intently at the screen as Davin Felth’s secret holonet report began to display across the screen.

* * *

[Tyranus]

It was late afternoon when Danz finally opened his eyes and sat up in his bunk. I was in my flight suit sitting across the room on my bunk with my arms buried up to my elbows down inside the burned out astromech. The radar eye on its blue and silver dome looked up blankly from its place on the floor grates beside me as I worked.

Ddraig had his hands inside the rear hatch to support power cells I was unscrewing down in the cramped cavity. Once free, I slid them out of their mounting sleeves and out the open top of the body for examination. I could smell the stale, burnt damage as I pulled them out into the light. Just as I had thought . . . they were completely fried. It looked like they had taken some massive power surge while recharging.

A closer inspection showed that the wiring harness terminals were all blackened. I glanced back inside the ‘droid . . . the insulated wiring harness that attached to them had been scorched as well, and was the one hanging out of one of the side panels. There were several logic boards adjacent to the wiring harness that were damaged as well, but it appeared that the memory chips, located just beyond a fuse panel, had been spared.

“Good luck finding those parts here” said Ddraig, wiping his hands on a towel, “this place has a lot for starships, but I don’t know about astromechs.” I reached back inside the body and unscrewed the fuse panel, removing it and the damaged wiring harness, “Yeah, you’re probably right, but someone might have something I could modify and use.

I’ll head back out to the burned out Sandcrawler and see if there’s anything useful there. The Jawas have probably already stripped her down, but I’ll check it out. If I can’t find anything there, or in the local shops in Anchorhead or here in Mos Eisley, I may have to take a few days leave and make a trip offworld for some parts.”

I knelt down beside my bunk and pulled out my gearbag, “I’m going to put a probe on this thing and make sure these are all I need.”

* * *

[Tyranus]

A reference to the 104th Moisture Farm Patrol can now be found here:

http://swfanon.wikia.com/wiki/104th_Moi ... arm_Patrol

How Cool is that!

[Tyranus]

Etz walked in pulling off his helmet, and dropping it on his bunk, began to slip off his armor as we continued to work on the little astromech. He looked over at Danz, who had dozed off again as he pulled off his forearm gauntlets. The collection of problematic parts was growing, as the diagnostic systems probe completed its sweep of the ‘droids internal workings. I watched the pulsing patterns on the probes display screen as it worked. Ddraig walked back in with 2 containers of water as Etz pulled off the last of the armor plates and zipped up his flight suit.

Several more wiring harnesses, a motor controller and the audio processor had already been pulled out and laid beside the batteries and fuse block. The pulsing stopped and a tone finally indicated that the sweep was now complete. At least now I knew what I needed to get the little guy going again. Etz lay back on his bunk and closed his eyes as I switched off the probe and disconnected the leads down inside the main body cavity.

“Here” said Ddraig, handing me the water, “So is this everything you need?” I looked over at the pile as I wound up the probe wires, “As far as I know. Thanks.” And I took the water from him. “I hope we can find the parts to get this guy going again. Then he can tell us what happened and how long he’s been sitting dormant down there.”

Etz sat up on his bunk, opening his eyes wide, “In all the confusion, I totally forgot!” and he jumped up and ran into the rear storage room. I looked over at Ddraig as I swallowed my sip of water, “What’s up with him?” He stared back at me, shrugging his shoulders, eyes wide, finishing his drink.

We could hear the lift moving in the back room as I dropped the probe to my bunk and we walked into the back. Etz had lowered himself down and disappeared into the room beyond. I pulled the lever down, calling the lift platform back. It slowly rose back to ground level as we heard Etz rummaging through the racks below. I threw the handle back down and we stepped onto the lift.

When we walked through the door, Etz was on his knees between two of the racks, ripping things off the bottom shelf and tossing them into the floor. We moved closer, walking down the aisle toward him as he pulled out a large, dusty tarp, throwing it aside. Then he grabbed what was hidden under it, straining to slide it out into the light.

There was a loud metal-on-metal scraping noise as he pulled the corner of a large metallic slab off the shelf. As he shoved it into the light and moved aside, we could clearly see now that it was a block of silvery metal with small dials and knobs set into the edges. It was a Carbonite prisoner hibernation slab . . . a slab with the raised features of someone sealed inside . . . someone wearing Commando Armor.

* * *

[Tyranus]

Ddraig glanced over at me, and although I could see him in my peripheral vision, I couldn’t take my eyes off the carbonite slab on the floor with the commando staring blankly up out of the metal. Etz looked up at us, “When I came in to get the transport, I needed a couple of new power cells. I came over hear to the racks to look for some, and when I found them, the power cable was caught on this hand thrust up out of the metal” he said, pointing to one of the hands protruding up from the smooth surface. “With everything that was going on, I totally forgot about it until now.”

I heard the lift activate just outside the room as the roof doors on the landing bay slid open and the troop transport pushed through the shield, and descended, settling onto its repulsor field just above the stone floor. Felth, Falker and Blade hopped off the tailboard. Topolev slipped out of the cockpit, walked out through the open rear and jumped down off the tailboard, following them and pulling off his helmet.

Rogue, Danz, 4120, 0600 and 1265 walked through the door from the lift as the others filed in from the bay. Danz and Rogue were talking, “I don’t know what happened, he just jumped up and raced out.” Rogue turned toward us as they all walked over toward the racks where we were, “What’s going on? Danz said Etz jumped up like somebody shocked him with a Dewback prod.” I looked over to Etz, then to Ddraig and stepped aside, so that all could see past me to Etz and his discovery.

“What the . . .” was all Rogue could manage as they all stepped closer. Felth and Topolev circled around the backside of the rack and came up the aisle from the back wall for a closer look. 0600 pushed past 1265 and knelt down beside the slab, examining the settings on the side panels. “There’s no freezing date coded here.” He turned and looked back at Rogue, “but I would bet he’s been in this thing for a very long time.”

Topolev knelt down as well, tapping a finger on the surface, “Is he still alive in there?”

0600 raised his eyebrows as he responded, “He should be . . . but carbon freezing was adapted from its initial industrial origins and pulled into service as a means of secure prisoner transfer. Freeze the prisoner and send them either to be judged, or to the prison facility where they were then released to serve out their sentence.”

Etz was looking over the control panels as 0600 spoke, “Hey, there’s a dial here for a built in repulsor. Stand back a little.” Everyone moved back as he rotated the dial. The slab rose from the floor and hovered a few inches in the air. He rotated the dial more until the carbonite was hovering at about waist height.

Rogue stepped closer, a hand resting on the edge of the metal block, “With no formal record apparent, there’s no way for us to know who put him here, or why. We’re going to need to discuss what to do with him. Bring him upstairs.”

* * *

[Tyranus]

A little more: <!-- s:D --><!-- s:D -->

“We’ve been round and round about this, and we’re no closer to an answer. It comes down to one point. Do we have the right to release this trooper?” Rogue looked around the room, into the eyes of each man standing around the floating carbonite block. The room was silent . . . each of us looking to the others. Etz had his hands on the edge of the block looking down at the frozen face staring up at him . . . feeling responsible for the trooper’s fate.

Felth shifted his weight from one leg to the other. 0600 began a reply as he looked around the room, “True, we don’t know what he did, or why he’s in there, but carbon freezing was designed for short-term use. It was never intended to be used for a long-term incarceration tool. I think we owe it to this trooper, whoever he is, to release him and find out for ourselves what his story is and then deal with him.” He glanced back to Rogue, “Have you forgotten the time we served on Kessel for something we didn’t do?”

Rogue lowered his eyes and exhaled. Shaking his head slightly he replied in a low tone, “No. I haven’t. And if I were him I would probably want to be released too. I just question whether or not we have the authority to do so.” Topolev stood up from his place on his bunk, “The way I see it . . . it doesn’t appear that anyone’s missing him. He’s been down there for who knows how long. This base station was closed up for years! No one in the Empire would ever know if we let him out or not.” There were nods of agreement around the room, and a few raised eyebrows. “****, he might not even be alive once we did. We might be releasing a corpse. In either event, he deserves to be released. He’s one of us. If he did something awful, it was a long time ago, and we can deal with that when it comes to light.”

Falker stepped back from the circle and walked around toward Rogue, “I understand what you’re saying, and believe me, I want to do what’s right here too” looking at Rogue and then shooting a glance to Topolev, “ I think we all do.” Rogue nodded as he continued speaking, “Based on his armor, this trooper was clearly encased sometime during the Clone Wars era, for reasons unknown. IF he survived the freezing and encasement, not only will he be dealing with his hibernation sickness, he’ll be dealing with catching up on the events of almost twenty years.”

Falker glanced around the room as he continued, “And don’t think of hibernation sickness as a small side effect, it’s nothing to be taken lightly. His organs will be quick-thawed from a deep freeze, which is incredibly painful. Then, he’ll experience any number of additional side effects during his recovery period such as blindness, deafness, muscle atrophy, hypersensitivity. His unusually long encasement may result in dementia or even insanity.” The room was silent.

He continued, “Let’s sleep on it, and talk about it more in the morning. Deckard, why don’t you take Etz and Danz on the last sweep patrol of the spaceport, and we’ll call it a night. Things may be a little clearer in the morning. While you’re doing that, Topolev, you and Felth and I should go down to the cache with the others and see what else might turn up regarding this guy. If there are arrest records, there may be a file on him.”

Rogue nodded, “Good plan, Falker. There are a lot of things down on those racks that we haven’t been through yet. We should know a little more about what’s down there.”

“I’ll help out with the spaceport sweeps. I could use some air” said Blade, pulling on his bucket. “I think I’ll join you guys too” said Ddraig.

Etz slid the carbonite block into the corner and grabbed his bucket from me. I thumbed the power switch on my E-11 and pulled my bucket on as well, “Let’s go guys.” The five of us that were on patrol duty filed through the door into the front office and spilled out into the darkened streets as the others headed down into the cache.

* * *

[Tyranus]

The streets were all but deserted. Etz and Falker had gone in one direction toward the East end of town to circle back through the spaceport to the barracks, while Danz, Ddraig and I had gone toward the West side of the spaceport, to also end up at headquarters.

We were finished with our inspection of the bays, and aside from removing several Jawas from number 34, had seen nothing that seemed out of place. A number of ships were being loaded by night crews, preparing for early-morning departures, but most were sealed up and deserted for the night.

Ddraig broke the silence as we walked out the main corridor toward the streets, “Danz, how’s the shoulder?” I looked over to Danz as he looked to Ddraig, and then me, bending his arm and rolling his shoulder, “It’s much better now, still not quite 100%, but close.” I looked over at Ddraig, then stopped and pulled off my helmet, looking at Danz, “Was one of those little guys in bay 34 your Jawa?”

The others pulled their helmets off as well. Ddraig smiled as he also asked, “Yeah, where’s your Jawa?” Danz glared at us “There WAS a Jawa down in the cave with me . . . with us! It ripped open the Sketto webbing and allowed me to pull myself free. After that I was kinda’ coming and going in and out of consciousness, but I know I remember it wiping my face. Then, it disappeared while you guys worked on me and then came back once more before we were hauled up. Are you sure you didn’t see it?”

We looked at each other and Ddraig answered, “No, we didn’t see any Jawa. You sure you didn’t bang your head harder than we thought?”

“I know what I saw” he said as he pulled his bucket back on and stepped out into the moonlit street. Ddraig and I pulled our helmets on and followed him, walking along in silence toward HQ.

It was late, and although the spaceport never closed, most of the businesses we were passing around it did. Chalmun’s Mos Eisley Cantina was no exception. As we drew near, the last of the regulars of the popular bar were being herded into the street as Wuher closed the door behind them. He activated the security sensors and returned inside to clean up after the long day. The intoxicated patrons staggered away into the cool shadows to sleep until it re-opened again in the morning.

As the other patrol approached from down the street, we could hear them discussing the Commando. As they drew nearer, we could hear Etz answering back about the trooper in the carbonite back at base, “He needs to be released.”

We walked over to them and Danz spoke up, “It won’t happen tonight. Let’s get some sleep and see what everyone thinks in the morning. He’s been down there a long time. One more night won’t make any difference.” Everyone agreed and we walked off toward the barracks, our armor glinting in the moonlight until we disappeared into the dark shadows of the alley.

As we disappeared from sight, the Kubaz that had been watching and listening, slipped back into the shadows across the street.

* * *

[Tyranus]

Nearly a week had gone by since Etz’ revelation of the Carbonite-contained Commando in the cache, and we were still stuck, divided about what to do with him. Rogue had conceded the point that no one would know or care if he were removed from the block, unless he decided to tell someone once he was out.

We were now in a much darker place where the trooper was concerned. It was no longer a question of authority to remove him, but rather what would the repercussions of doing so be? What had he done to warrant being frozen in the first place? What would he think of being released? Would he be able to think at all? Was he alive? We had the spare gear to assemble a set of armor and assimilate him into our group if necessary, but then he had his own armor that he may prefer to keep. These questions kept circling around and around, and we found ourselves no closer to resolution.

The work on the 'droid was coming along nicely, although the astromech still needed a fair number of parts to even approach being functional. Ddraig and I had located some of the supplies in the small shops near the spaceport, and although they were not a perfect match, we were able to make some minor modifications to suit our needs.

We had all been extremely busy. In addition to the daily city beat and the patrols around the spaceport, Rogue and 4120 were working on a roster and schedule for extended patrols further out into the outlying areas, closer to the moisture farmers and their problems. 0600 and I had made a sweep of the perimeter of the farms and homesteads to gauge the area and time needed to properly patrol it.

In the course of our travels, we noted that the Jawas seem to have been spooked by the destruction of one of their Sandcrawlers and had been laying low, leaving the moisture gathering equipment alone and not even bothering to return to salvage from their own ruins yet. I had remembered kicking aside the dome of a damaged R5 unit in the ‘crawler when the skirmish had occurred, so I poked through a bit of the wreckage in the cargo bay until I found what was left of the ‘droid body and brought it back to cannibalize parts.

Falker and Etz had just left, heading over to speak with Wuher, or someone in the Cantina to locate a local that would be willing to act as a scout for locating and dealing with the Tuskens. So far, even Garindan had turned up no one for us. It was beginning to seem that the best way to deal with the Tuskens was with a fully charged blaster.

I sat on my bunk, quietly continuing to clean the contacts on one of the new battery harnesses with a rag as Felth walked through the room. He was absorbed with what was on the screen of his holonet pack and didn’t see me. He silently scrolled through his messages and then appeared shaken when he looked up and realized I was in the room.

“What’s up Felth?” I said, as I leaned over the ‘droid body and reached inside, snapping the harness terminal’s connector pack into the main power board. He stiffened somewhat and then responded, “Nothing. The message was garbled. I haven’t gotten a decent transmission on this thing since the night we had to get Danz out of that downed B’Omarr starship.”

“Yeah, I haven’t seen any message showing credits transferred to my account, and payday was yesterday, according to local time. Granted, we don’t make much, but I need every little bit I can get, especially for these parts” and I gestured toward the ‘droid.

“Right” replied Felth absently, and walked away, slipping the holonet pack back into its belt pouch.

Topolev and 1265 had been searching through the datacard records down in the cache to see if there was any reference to our Commando. So far, they had found none. I found myself wondering just why there had been a Commando on Tatooine in the first place. I mean, Jawas and Tuskens were one thing, but in those days, there were bigger otay to fry with the tracking of Jedi Knights and the wrap up efforts of the war in the smaller systems. If he had been stationed here prior to the end of the war, why?

I was lost in thought and the memory of the historic images of the Clone Wars we had all seen on Carida when something going on in the command center brought me back to reality. I stood up and walked through the door to the front room as Falker and Etz, both with buckets off, were talking over each other to Rogue, 4120 and Felth. Etz conceded and Falker spoke again, “The DS-1 station has been destroyed.” 4120 whipped his head around to Rogue, “The Death Star?”

My jaw dropped, as Rogue nodded incredulously, “Who told you this? How?”

“The whole Cantina is buzzing about it” said Etz “Some spacer just made port last night and said that’s why the holonet has been offline, because the rebel forces have destroyed the station. Reports are also saying that Senator Organa is alive, and was the supplier of the data responsible for the destruction.”

4120 broke in “What about Vader?” Falker shook his head, “He hasn’t been accounted for yet. This all happened the night we were rescuing Danz. We’re in such a vacuum out here that we didn’t know about this for A WEEK!”

4120 shook his head, “The data they’re talking about is probably the same information that was taken from here by the Jedi and the boy. Pray that Lord Vader is dead, or this could come back on all of us.”

* * *

[Tyranus]

I just posted a new pic of DANZ (James Ross) in the sandstorm scene at the Homestead here:

http://www.mepd.net/forum/viewtopic.php?p=23724#23724

About 1/3 of the way down the page.

[Tyranus]

There was a moment of heart-stopping silence, followed by a flash across the display of the diagnostic tool as the ion engines finally came back online and powered up properly. Lord Vader’s prototype TIE fighter was functional again at last.

The mechanic pulled the leads of the tool off the engine’s power terminals and leaned his dirty face out of the access panel in the belly of the ship. Sparks rained down from overhead, where he saw another technician securing the last of the solar panels he had fitted into place on the new wing frame. They were nearly done.

He slid out onto the gridded gantry, wiping off his hands and winding up the tool leads as he stood. He stretched his back and walked off down the gantry, happy to have finished ahead of schedule, avoiding the Force-hold, strangling death that so many others had met with over the years. He hurried away to locate the Dark Lord.

* * *

[Tyranus]

As a youngling watching and mimicking Qui-Gon, he had learned much about the way of the universe, and how many times reason, and the will of the Force, took a different path from that of popular conviction.

He had spent his life, from before he could remember, studying the binding power that pulsed in all living things . . . feeling it, sensing it in others, drawing on it and allowing himself to be the conduit through which the channeled, focused power of the Force flowed.

It was the fruit of this lifelong study that had allowed him to whisper in young Luke’s ear in moments most critical, at times of absolute need. As the crimson blade of Vader’s lightsaber slashed through him, his physical body had been offered in sacrifice, allowing the necessary escape of Vader’s children and allowing the hope for a reversal of the darkness that had infected the systems now under control of the first Galactic Empire.

The energy that had coursed through him as his Force core was stripped from his physical body, pounding him with electrifying wave after wave of warmth and light had subsided. Now there was darkness, and the ebbing, rippling waves of the energy he was now a part of.

Now, his study must begin again anew. He would learn from Jedimasters that had gone on before him, and learn more about communing with the living. Years of study with his own dead master in the dim light of his Jedi training arena, through meditation and extreme concentration, had allowed Qui-Gon time to teach him to whisper to the living.

Appearing to the living would require much more control and a deeper understanding. He now sensed his own master here, himself one with the Force, anxious to once again teach his apprentice.

* * *

[Tyranus]

Rogue and 0600 stepped off the tailboard of the troop transport into the blistering sand. Undulating waves of heat rippled up from the sea of tiny stones, distorting the view of moisture ‘vaporators dotting the horizon in the distance. The cooling elements in their body gloves rushed coolant across their torsos as they walked toward the main dwelling of this modest moisture farm.

A kneeling farmhand, working on a nearby condenser unit, raised his tool in a wave as the troops walked past. 0600 nodded his bucket once at him, acknowledging the welcome. The apparent owner of the farm appeared at the entrance dome that led down below ground level. He was wiping a worn metal ‘vaporator part with a filthy shop rag, watching them carefully as they approached.

0600 turned his head slightly, looking back to the farmhand, who had returned to his work inside the access panel of the condenser. He kept walking, and turned his attention back to the moisture farmer as he flipped on the power selector in the grip of his DLT-19.

The farmer was staring at the part in his hand, which he still rubbed although it was already clean and gleaming in the sunlight, “I didn’t expect to actually see any of you. I know there was a lot of talk at the town meeting, but I never actually expected to see any action come from it.”

The sound-activated voice processor in his helmet clicked on as Rogue responded, “We’re here to make a preliminary assessment of the situation at each of the farms in the region. There are several teams like ours visiting other farmers such as yourself right now. Do you grow plants and food, or just harvest water?”

The voice enhancer clicked off with a small burst of static as the farmer’s lips parted in a wide grin revealing crooked, untended teeth beneath, “There’s only two farmers crazy enough to gamble the future of their farms on moisture collection AND hydroponic crops, and one of them is dead now.”

He pushed the back of his dirty hand across his mouth and nose in a wiping motion. “All the years I knew him, Owen Lars always worked twice as hard as anyone else out here to make sure he wrapped up the season owing nobody nothing. He worked his nephew just as hard.” He rubbed a bit more on the part within the folds of the rag, “The other one is Huff Darklighter.”

Rogue thought a moment as he turned his helmeted head, looking across the small homestead and asked, “Have you had any trouble from the Tuskens, or the Jawas?”

The farmer squinted a bit in the glaring sun, as he pulled his hood up over his head, shielding him from the brilliance of the reflected Tatooine suns. His tunics and robe flapped in the light, hot breeze, “I had 3 tanks siphoned dry last week, I don’t know who did it, but it stinks of Raiders. Jawas mainly go after hardware . . . droids, machinery. Every once in awhile the little buggers steal some water, but not as a rule.

They have their own ‘vaporators, pieced together from all the scrap they collect and cart around selling. One of the farmers on the other side of the next canyon had two hands killed when a booby-trapped ‘vaporator exploded.”

0600 looked at Rogue, then back to the farmer, “If the Tuskens steal water from you, why destroy the ‘vaporators, that doesn’t make sense.” The worn farmer screwed up his face as he thought about what 0600 had just said “I never thought about it like that before. If it wasn’t them who would it be? Darklighter has more business than he can handle and sells to most of the markets in Anchorhead, Mos Eisley and Bestine.

He has a few dealings in Mos Espa, and between you and me, I think he wants to expand in that market, but he wouldn’t do something like that. He’s had his own share of thieving and vandalism.” Rogue nodded, glanced at 0600 and then back to the farmer, “We’ll pay Mr. Darklighter a visit and see what he can tell us.”

He turned away, and headed back toward the transport with 0600, laying the weight of his rifle across his left elbow, “Who stands to gain from moisture farmers suffering?” They stepped up to the tailboard of the transport and settled on the bench as 1265 brought the engines up and the craft slipped away from the farm.

“1265, did you monitor what was said?” asked Rogue. The pilot’s voice came back through his helmet comm, “Every word, sir. We’re on our way to the Darklighter residence now.” On the horizon, unnoticed by the team as they raced across the sand, black smoke rose in a column from the Canyons of the Jundland Wastes.

* * *

[Tyranus]

<!-- s:) --><!-- s:) --> Here's some more:

Etz listened to the absence of wind, and the whirring of the ‘vaporators as they walked away from the moisture farm toward the drop ship. Falker, Etz and Topolev were about to step onto the sentinel’s ramp when Topolev spotted something coming toward them from deeper in the canyons, a cloud of sand billowing out behind it. The others stepped back off the ramp for a better view. Etz snapped on his macros and took a look. “It’s someone on a swoop bike.”

He lowered the macros and clicked them off. The rider streaked toward them at top speed, and as it drew closer, the pilot turned slightly, heading straight for them. At the last possible instant, the power to the main thrusters was cut and switched to the brake thrusters and the bike skidded to a halt alongside them, spraying sand up from the push of the brakes.

The pilot leaped off the bike in the middle of a dust cloud and pulled off her helmet, it was Camie, the young girl from Tosche Station in Anchorhead. Falker stepped over to yell at her when she began screaming at them, wild-eyed, “Get help! Come with me, there’s been an accident!” She was panting for air and shaking . . . adrenaline and fear was rushing through her.

Topolev stepped over to her, putting a hand on her shoulder, “Slow down and breathe. What happened?”

The moisture farmer they had been speaking with, and his wife, was running out of their home toward them as Camie coughed and fought to speak. Her chest heaved as she wiped her hair away from her dusty face, “The guys were out in Beggar’s Canyon on a speed run . . . in their T-16s. They were on the straightaway approaching the Stone Needle when a downdraft pushed Fixer into Deak and Windy. They both crashed.”

The farmer’s wife raised her hand to her mouth. Falker was eying the horizon, noting the black smoke rising against the sky as she continued.

“I was watching from the rim and was trying to warn them about the wind shift I had picked up on my scanners but they couldn’t hear me. There must be a strong solar wind from the suns today breaking up my signal. I couldn’t get down to where they were in the canyon, so I decided to go for help. We have to get back there now!”

Topolev turned to the others “Etz, take her swoop and go get medical help in Bestine Township, I think we’re closer to it than the other settlements” Camie nodded, “We are.”

Etz nodded and ran to the swoop, mounting up and powering it on as Topolev yelled out to him, “Watch for the sentinel signature when you head back to find us.”

Sand sprayed up from the sudden wash of the main engines and Etz was gone in a cloud of dust, racing out across the flats. Falker was already on his way into the sentinel’s cockpit to bring the engines online.

The moisture farmer ran to one of his nearby ‘vaporators and ripped the collection tank from it as he ran for his parked speeder “Get inside and see if you can raise Bestine to be ready for that other trooper!” His wife nodded, and ran down into their home.

Topolev and Camie ascended the ramp as the sentinel lifted from the sand and headed out into the canyons.

* * *

[Tyranus]

A little more . . .

The hot winds blowing in from the Dune Sea buffeted the swoop and sprayed fine sand across Etz’ armor in waves as he raced toward Bestine. Beneath the rim of his helmet, the wind roared in his ears as he watched the heads-up thermal imaging that now overlaid the landscape ahead, showing hot and cool air drafts. He slipped the bike to the left slightly, avoiding a thermal updraft. When updrafts and downdrafts clustered and became intertwined, a serious sandstorm could be born.

The roaring wind reminded him of the thunderous sound of the waterfalls on Corellia. He remembered hiking with friends, as a boy, into the mountains to the falls and sleeping under the stars with that roar in his ears and the fine, cool water mist in the air.

As he came back into the dry heat of the moment, the domed rooftops of Bestine became visible above the horizon. He stomped down on the accelerator pedal, increasing his speed toward the town, and help.

* * *

[Tyranus]

Here's a little more:

The weight of my question pulled on the Ithorian arborist like an invisible weight hanging around his neck. He closed his eyes as if my very words had caused him pain. The roar of the crowds here in the crowded marketplace seemed to fall away into silence as he opened his eyes and turned slightly to look at me, "He never took me there" was his response.

"We came to know each other fairly well over the years, but he never shared the location of his home with me. He was protecting something of great value, and could not compromise its safety. He said he had made a deal with the Sand People in the place where he lived. He allowed them water from his 'vaporator in exchange for being able to live in their territory without having to fear raids or harm."

I shifted a bit on my feet, "I've seen the leftovers the old man leaves behind when he draws his lightsaber, both in the cantina and in the alleys of this city, and I don't think he would have been living in fear."

Nadon nodded, "True, he was a master of his sword, and did not need to fear them, but perhaps he tried to choose a path that held less destruction and more good will? If I had to guess, I would say that his home is somewhere out in the cliffs of the wastes somewhere. I know that isn't much help; however it is the best response I can offer you."

I nodded silently, thinking for a moment as we walked on through the crowded market to the streets beyond. "How long have you been on Tatooine", I questioned further. He took a few steps, thinking "The better part of thirty standard years, I suppose." I nodded again, "Do you remember ever seeing Republic Commandos stationed here?"

We took a few steps further along the sands of the busy street. He eyed a small parts shop and stepped inside out of the beating sunlight, "Republic Commandos you say? Now there's something I've not thought of in a long time. If my memory serves, there was a group of Commandos in charge of the dig site."

I looked at him as he picked up a small repulsor motivator and rolled it over in his muscular hands. "Dig site?" was all I could manage in response. He nodded slowly as he put down the part, "Yes, the dig site on the far side of the planet. There was a group of them overseeing the dig operations . . . less than a Garrison, but definitely more than a Squad. I would say about twenty of them altogether. Most of their time was spent at the dig facility itself, but they came here to relax and drink between shift rotations. They had a small barracks across from Chalmun's Cantina, but they were almost never there."

He picked up a power flux coupling as I responded, "OK, back up. What was the dig facility for?" He glanced back at me, "No one really knew. It was all kept very quiet. Crews were brought in from off-world to work the dig. None of the locals were allowed to work there. Darklighter Water grew immensely in those days, supplying water to the crew and troops at the dig site. It caused a lot of tension and resentment toward the troops. What would make you ask about them? They left here about twenty years ago."

I picked up a redundant isolator and walked toward the owner, who was seated behind a small counter. He was busy re-wiring the instrument cluster console of an X-32 landspeeder, but he laid down his tools as I approached holding up the part. He rubbed his chin, "Ten credits." I pulled out two coins from the belt pouch and laid them on the counter.

Nadon followed as I stepped back out into the street and turned back toward him, "We're using the barracks you spoke of as our headquarters, and we found . . . something of interest that raised a lot of questions about that time period." I stopped and turned, looking to both sides for any potential listeners, then faced him, "We found a Commando frozen in Carbonite. Stashed and forgotten, probably for at least twenty years, possibly longer."

The Ithorian's eyes opened wide in disbelief. "It's true." I continued, "We found him, and we're not quite sure what to do with him." As I finished my sentence, a video window opened in front of my left eye, and static-laden audio crackled in my left ear. It was Topolev, and he was urgently calling the rest of us to his location, "Follow the shuttle's signal until you find us, out in the wastes."

* * *

[Tyranus]

The reptilian Harbor Master let out a breath of relief as 4120, Felth and Blade left his office. He stood up from his chair, taking great care not to step in the puddle he had created under his desk.

“Rendar raised ship again already” said Felth, reading the report to 4120 as they walked away from the office. Blade looked back to the open doorway they had just left, half expecting to see the Harbor Master leaning out, watching them. 4120 flipped off the power switch on his E-11 as Felth continued, “He’s raised ship, but this shows he’s reserved a larger private docking bay out on the fringes of the spaceport when he returns. It says that he’s flying for the Hutt.”

4120 considered the information as they walked back toward base. The sounds of incoming and departing ships layered themselves in with the low roar of the marketplace, and the occasional whine of a passing swoop. Felth clicked on his internal comm system and selected 4120 only as the recipient of his call, “4120, I’ve been thinking . . . we don’t have an intelligence officer in the group. I have the background and wanted to know what you think about me taking on that role?”

4120 kept walking, then responded only to him, “Let me speak with Rogue. I can’t imagine a reason why you shouldn’t be allowed to assume that position, but let me run it past him for his thoughts.” Felth nodded slightly, moving further away and falling back in step. Beneath his helmet, his lip curled into a slight smile as he thought of the damage he could do with the information he could begin funneling to the Alliance. Dodonna had been appreciative of his last reports, and was now sharing information with other high-ranking Alliance Commanders and Generals.

Suddenly, 4120 stopped dead in his tracks, “There’s an urgent message coming through from Topolev.” He waited, watching the holo-display before his left eye. Blade and Felth moved closer, anticipating the news about to come.

“There’s been an accident out in the canyons. We’ve gotta get back to base and get the transport. Blade, comm over to Deckard, we’re going to need him to go with us.”

* * *

Falker raised the nose of the shuttle and lifted away from the rock formations they were skimming over, pulling up higher into the air. Late afternoon shadows now filled the canyons below, and the horizon was shrouded in a purple haze as the twins suns descended. Topolev noticed the other T-16s circling nearby.

Camie leaned over past Topolev to look out the port, “They’ve been waiting for their turns at the speed run route. I guess when the guys from the previous run didn’t come back to the start position, they came up here to get a better view of the course”, tears welled in her eyes as she thought the worst of what had happened.

Falker was busy on the comm, hailing the smaller ships and directing them away from the airspace. “T-16 pilots, leave this area at once and set down on the canyon rim.” The other pilots were local kids, all refusing to evacuate the area. “I repeat, evacuate this airspace now!” They continued to circle until Falker fired a warning shot dangerously close to one of the small craft. They all broke formation and rolled away, heading for the canyon rim. Falker shook his head, “Kids.”

* * *